I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how human beings form their sense of identity—how deeply it’s tied to those they trust. It feels almost wired into us. When we place our trust in someone—whether it’s a religious leader, political figure, friend, or even a spouse—we often do more than just respect them. We elevate them. We lift them up like a cornerstone: “This person is my rock, my foundation. I will build my worldview, my safety, my identity on them.”
And it sounds noble at first. Loyalty. Trust. Stability. But what happens when the foundation starts to rot? What if the very person we built on reveals something evil, something false, or something simply incompatible with what God says?
I’ve seen it again and again. People do not just support causes anymore. They become the cause. Entire lives are wrapped around the personality of one person, or one movement, or one flag. And yes—I’m going to say it plainly—one of the most visible examples is the ๐ณ️๐๐ movement. It’s not just a symbol anymore. It’s become a lifestyle, a code, an entire religious substitute with rituals, feasts, sacraments, and even its own priests and holy days.
And I know this personally because I do not fit into any of their categories. I am ace. I don’t want anyone in my bed. Not a man, not a woman, not a one-night connection, not a soul tie. And for that, I get hated. Because in their world, who you want to sleep with is who you are. It’s their sacred truth, their inner temple. And if you dare to say, “I don’t want anyone,” you threaten their system. Because I cannot be put into a box, I am seen as a danger. They cannot comprehend how someone can exist without making bed-sharing the centerpiece of their identity.
That’s the trap. These echo chambers—whether it’s ๐, ๐ณ️๐, MAGA, leftist politics, or even certain hyper-religious cliques—they’re not just groups. They’re clans. And these clans don’t tolerate people who step outside. They thrive on sameness, on mirrored language, on loyalty tests. And when you fail the test—even just once—they want to erase you.
I’ve lived it. I’ve been erased.
Over two years ago, I lost all my friends. Every single one of them turned out to be supporters of things I cannot stand for—things that are in rebellion against the Word of God. They pretended to be neutral or even supportive of me, but deep down, they were only waiting for a reason to push me out. And when I began to read my Bible, when I stood openly for Israel, when I called out Hamas after the October 7 massacre, that was all it took. Suddenly I was the enemy. Cancelled. Blocked. Cut off.
I’ve had ๐ people tell me I deserve to die because I have the Israeli flag on my profile. Not because I ever harmed anyone. Not because I hate anyone. But because I stand with Jewish people. That’s enough to make me unworthy of life in their eyes. That is how deep this hatred runs. It is not political—it is spiritual. And it is demonic.
And then, on the Christian side, it doesn’t get much better. Many who claim to love Jesus want nothing to do with me either. Why? Because I looked like a Skaven LARPer. Yes, Skaven. Warhammer fantasy. A fictional ratman. I still tell my fellow Skaven they too are image of God and loved. I treated them kindly. I talked to them about God. And for that, I was shunned because Christians and atheist both first bullied and broke my identity as child until nothing was left but first a rabbit and then it turned into a Skaven and very core of broken and dissociative disorder. Because people expected me to hate. But I don’t hate. I can’t. Even if you dress like a rat or talk in squeaks, I will treat you like a fellow human being—because I know what it feels like to be outside the camp. If you are the meanest and cruelest stormvermin you will still get hugged and told that you matter because that was me not a less than a year ago.
That’s what Jesus did too, didn’t He? He went outside the camp. He met the Samaritan woman. He touched the leper. He called tax collectors and zealots and fishermen His brothers. And He was hated for it too.
The more I watch this world, the more I realize how dangerous it is to build your identity on anything but the Rock—Yahweh Himself. Because if your identity is built on your sexuality, your political affiliation, your fandom, your leader, your social media persona—you are wide open to deception. You are a sitting target for the Antichrist.
And I believe that day is coming. The day when someone will rise and say:
“If you want to remain a member of humanity, if you want to keep your job, your rights, your name, your access to stores and life, you must show your loyalty.”
And how will it come? I believe it will be in the form of the Mark. Not just a chip or a tattoo, but a declaration. A statement that shows whose clan you belong to. The Word says:
ืְืִืฉְׁืชַּืֲืืּ ืַืชַּื ִּืื
“They worshiped the dragon…” (Revelation 13:4)
And they will receive a sign on their forehead or their right hand (Revelation 13:16). A visible mark. A clan symbol. A badge that says: “I am not hostile. I am one of you.”
And I believe it will say something like ุจِุณْู
ِ ูฑَِّٰููู — Bismillah, “In the name of Allah” — and people will wear it proudly, because they have been trained to belong to a clan. They won’t question it. They’ll take the Mark, because they were never taught to stand alone with God. They only ever learned to mirror others.
But I will not take that mark. I don’t care what name they put on it. I don’t care what threats they make. I will not bow to a false god. I belong to Yahweh, and my King is Yeshua the Messiah, the Arm of God, the Word made flesh. He is my clan. He is my circle. He is my Rock.
And if that means I walk alone on this earth, then so be it.
Because I would rather be alone with God than surrounded by people who demand I bow to Baal.
Psalm 118:8 (AMP):
“It is better to take refuge in the LORD Than to trust in man.”
But the more I watch this world spiral deeper into deception, I realize something even more chilling—we are already being conditioned to accept the Antichrist. The echo chambers, the clan mindset, the cancellation of anyone who thinks differently—this is all preparation. It is not random. It is spiritual.
There are already men walking among us claiming wild things, and one of them is Abdullah Hashem. He’s out there publicly claiming he’s the final Pope, the fulfillment of the "Petrus Romanus" prophecy—the so-called Peter of Rome from the 12th-century Malachy prophecy. He says he's that figure, and while some laugh it off, I do not. He may try to act humble by claiming the USA is the Antichrist system—but I see through it. He himself is building a following. A cult. And his words are carefully crafted: pro-Hamas, anti-Israel, pro-๐ณ️๐๐, all wrapped in spiritual talk. That’s exactly the kind of deception the Bible warns us about.
Because the Antichrist will not come saying, “Hello, I’m Satan.” He will come as a man of peace, tolerance, and unity. A man who brings "order" after the chaos. And he will not only be welcomed—he will be worshiped.
And when the true Church—the ones who cling to Jesus, Yeshua, the very Arm of Yahweh—is taken in the rapture, what remains will be a world desperate for belonging. The mark he will demand—whether it says “ุจِุณْู
ِ ูฑَِّٰููู” (Bismillah) on the forehead or hand, or is some biometric digital ID—will be presented as a condition for peace, inclusion, and "being human."
The lie will be simple: “If you want to stay a member of humanity, take this mark. It means you are not hostile. It means you belong.”
And most will take it. Because they built their identity on a group, on a tribe, on a cause, not on the eternal God. They will not be able to stand alone. And they will not dare to lose their social circle, their echo chamber, their “safety.” Because when the Church is gone, safety will be defined not by truth, but by loyalty to the system.
And who are the ones who are most vulnerable to fall? The ones who already let ideology become their personality. Those who tattooed causes onto their souls, who mirror leaders without testing them by the Word. And that includes not just unbelievers—but many churchgoers who follow pastors instead of Christ, trends instead of truth.
That’s why I speak. That’s why I keep writing.
I know what it is to lose everything—every friend, every support, every safe space—because I stood with Israel. Because I followed Jesus. Because I refused to hate others, even if they squeak and wear fur and call themselves Skaven. I’d rather drink coffee with a LARPer and speak about the Bible than pretend to belong to a fake religious group that wants me to prove my righteousness through aggression.
I am not waiting for the Antichrist to come. I already see his shadow. His forerunners are here. His words are already being echoed in the chambers of every ideology that cancels the cross and replaces it with political idols.
But I have built on the real Rock. And if I must stand alone with my Bible in hand, talking to plastic rats and writing into the void, then so be it.
Because I know the truth:
Yeshua is the Arm of God.
Yeshua is Yahweh in flesh.
And He is coming back.
Sometimes, when I sit in silence, I ask myself a question that haunts me in the night:
"What if I’m not taken in the rapture?"
Not because I don’t believe.
Not because I don’t love Jesus.
But because I know how broken I am. How alone. How different.
And the world? It already told me where I belong—nowhere. When I was just nine, a child born in Russia and living here in Finland, I was told to die. No one needed to see my heart or understand my love for God or my craving for truth. My rejection began early, and it only grew louder when I dared to speak the Name of Jesus, when I put the Israeli flag by my name, when I didn't bow to the ๐ณ️๐ agenda, when I refused to play their game.
I know what they’ll do if I’m left behind. I’ve felt it already.
They will burn me.
They will mark me as enemy.
They will call me unloving, unsafe, unworthy.
They will say that because I would not sleep with anyone, because I am ace and my body is not for sale or for trade, I am "phobic" or "broken" or "wrong."
They hate me because I did not let my identity be built upon who I sleep with.
Because I built my identity upon the One who hung on a cross—Jesus, Yeshua, the Arm of Yahweh.
And it is that very choice—what or who you build your identity upon—that decides your eternity.
Not how accepted you are here.
Not how many flags you put in your bio.
Not how well you blend into the echo chamber.
Every Christian has a choice to make.
▪︎ Do you choose God—Yahweh, the Holy One of Israel, the only Hashem who speaks from Sinai and whose Arm is Jesus?
▪︎ Or do you choose your survival?
Your comfort?
Your job?
Your social life built on human leaders and political idols?
Do you really think the ones who bow now to keep their jobs and applause will stand when the cost is a guillotine?
Because when the rapture comes—and it will come suddenly—those left behind will be given a terrible choice:
Take the mark, or die.
And most will take it.
Why?
Because they never learned to stand alone. Because their whole identity was the clan. The echo. The approval of humans.
Because they feared rejection from man more than judgment from God.
But I say this now, as someone who was rejected by man long ago:
I don’t fear their hatred.
I don’t fear their lies.
They can crush this body, but they cannot steal my soul.
Because I have already made my choice.
I would rather starve and be hunted in the Tribulation than dine at the table of the Beast.
I would rather be mocked by men than denied by Christ.
I would rather be alone with my Bible than surrounded by those who cheer for Hamas, who curse Israel, who hate God's name and mock His children.
This is not a small matter.
This is not about politics.
This is eternal.
Your name is either written in the Lamb’s Book of Life—
Or it is not.
And no flag, no identity group, no echo chamber can save you when the sky cracks open and the King returns.
So I cling to Him. Even if I feel uncertain. Even if I tremble.
Because I know He is faithful, even when I am not.
And if He counts me worthy, then I will rise to meet Him in the clouds.
But if not—
Then I will die standing for Him.
And even then, I will win.
In a strange, painful, yet holy way, not being accepted saved me.
Most people don’t understand that. They think rejection is the worst thing that can happen to a human. But when I was born, I didn’t have anyone. Left at the hospital. No mother to hold me. No father to name me. No one to belong to.
Until I was adopted at one year old, I didn’t even have a human of my own.
That kind of start marks you. It brands you. You feel like an outsider before you even know what the word “belong” means. I grew up with that emptiness, with that silence in the soul that comes when you’re not claimed from the start.
But now, I see it: that emptiness made space for God.
Because I never fit in with the world, I didn’t mourn losing it.
Because I wasn’t accepted by humans, I wasn’t scared to be rejected by them again.
Because I didn’t grow up with the comfort of a tribe, I didn’t hesitate to betray their lies.
So when Hamas attacked Israel—before I had even met a single Israeli—I stood with the Jews.
Not because it was easy. Not because I had friends pushing me.
But because something in my spirit woke up.
The End Time warnings I had studied for years lit up like fire.
And without hesitation, I knew: I stand with truth. I stand with Israel. I stand with Yahweh.
Now I do know Israelis. Now I talk to Jewish people. And I side with them even harder.
Not because they love me.
Not because they protect me.
But because truth is not dependent on whether people like you.
Truth is a person—Yeshua—and He is the arm of Yahweh, the only One who truly claimed me before any human ever did.
And yes, I have seen it:
When I say, “I side with Yahweh,”
When I say, “I stand with Israel,”
When I say, “I reject the lies of the rainbow cult,”
Demons manifest.
In Christians.
In atheists.
In people who think they are safe, good, kind, holy.
But I’ve seen it.
The same yoke of pride that crushes the Owuor cult.
The same spirit that whispers in Jehovah’s Witnesses.
The same demonic hatred that coils itself around lgbtqia+ and their altars of flesh and identity. Oh yes they shout loudly that we must accept and "love" everyone but they are only hold together by their own hatred of both God and everything that God loves.
That’s how I know: Truth is a sword.
And when you speak it, the serpent always hisses.
Because truth forces you to choose.
You cannot keep your comfort, your echo chamber, your identity flag, your pride, your pet theology and follow the Lamb.
You have to die.
Die to self.
Die to "your truth."
Die to the little god you made out of yourself.
Only then can you be reborn.
Yeshua said it plainly:
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)
And that denial isn’t just about actions. It’s about identity.
It’s not enough to say, “I don’t sin.”
You have to say, “I am not the center.”
You have to break the mirror this world built around your reflection and declare:
“It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)
That’s the only way to be free.
That’s the only way to survive what is coming.
Because when the Antichrist comes—and yes, he will come—he will demand worship.
He will appeal to identity.
He will whisper to every tribe, every clan, every echo:
“If you want to belong... if you want to live... take the mark. Prove you’re one of us.”
But those who died already—
Those who were rejected early—
Those who learned to stand alone with God—
They will not bow.
And I will be among them.
Even if I walk into fire.
Even if I lose my body.
Because I was never theirs.
I was always His.
Following Jesus cost me everything I once hoped and dreamed for.
I used to want what most people want.
To belong.
To be liked.
To be normal.
To walk into a room and not feel like the strange one.
To laugh with others without guarding every word.
To feel human beside humans.
And yes—I used to dream of being part of them.
Even now, the musical Wicked hits something deep in me.
Elphaba sings,
“All I ever wanted was to be part of your world.”
That was me.
All I wanted was to stand among humans and not feel like a cursed ghost watching them from behind glass.
But I chose Jesus.
And when you choose Him, the world vomits you out.
Because He demands everything.
Not just your time, not just your words—
He demands you.
All of you.
▪︎ Your gender identity? His.
▪︎ Your body? His.
▪︎ Your dreams? His.
▪︎ Your status? His.
▪︎ Your popularity? Gone.
▪︎ Your old plans? Burned.
I was a Skaven LARPer once.
A strange little soul who played rat-men and made stories in the shadows.
Even then I dreamed—maybe one day, I’ll find my clan.
Maybe I’ll be accepted.
Maybe I’ll matter.
But Jesus found me.
And when He did, I saw:
That old “me”? That person wasn’t mine anymore.
He bought it. With blood.
So now, I don’t belong to the clan of humans.
I don’t belong to echo chambers.
I don’t belong to gay pride, Skaven pride, country pride, or even self-pride.
I belong to the Lamb.
And most “Christians” will never understand that.
They sing. They smile.
But they never chose Him.
They added Him.
Like sugar to their tea.
But I know: if you don’t deny yourself and make Him your Lord, your Owner, your Commander,
you don’t have Him at all.
Jesus is not just the Son.
He is the Arm of Yahweh.
He is the Word that spoke creation.
He is the fire that filled the burning bush.
He is the One who said to Moses:
“Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh – I AM that I AM.” (Exodus 3:14)
And that great I AM says:
“Follow Me.”
Not: “Add Me.”
Not: “Like Me.”
Not: “Use Me.”
Follow Me.
It cost me everything I once wanted.
But now I know: those dreams would’ve destroyed me.
Because that road—the road of acceptance, of popularity, of compromise—
leads to destruction.
Even most who call themselves Christians are walking it.
They will one day say,
“Lord, Lord, didn’t we prophesy? Didn’t we serve? Didn’t we sing?”
And He will answer:
“I never knew you.” (Matthew 7:23)
But this old Skaven LARPer made a choice.
Not because I’m strong. Not because I'm good. I am not even decent.( Fact most Christians do not admit that none of us is good. Those who say they are good and perfect and pretend to follow Jesus they are ones who are furthest away from Him.)
But because He is good.
Because He rescued me.
Because I owe Him everything.
Jesus is my Lord.
My Owner.
My Life.
And all that used to be me?
Now belongs to Him.
Most "Christians" today say,
"I believe in Jesus, and I want Jesus to come with me into my life."
But they don’t mean it like a servant saying, “I belong to You, my Lord.”
They mean it like a king saying,
"Jesus, follow me. Bless my journey. Build my dreams. Make me powerful. Stand behind my empire like a mascot."o
They want to use Jesus like a walking stick,
a lucky charm,
a power token
to build their own castles,
their own ministries,
their own names.
People like Owuor are the perfect image of this.
They wear long robes, use Hebrew names, speak of holiness and signs.
And everyone screams, “He is anointed!”
But they forget:
Anointed in Hebrew is "Mashiach" — ืָืฉִׁืืַ,
and in Greek, "Christos — ฮงฯฮนฯฯฯฯ",
and in English that word becomes Messiah or Christ.
So if you call a man "The Anointed One",
you are declaring him Christ—
and if he is NOT JESUS,
you are preparing the way for Antichrist.
They say,
"He teaches people to be holy!"
But what they really mean is:
"He teaches people to follow him."
His followers don't cling to Jesus,
they cling to Owuor.
They think they are holy because they avoid sex or alcohol,
but even the Pharisees did that.
That doesn't make them clean—
that just makes them proud.
And then they say:
"You must obey our prophet. We have the real gospel."
No, you don't.
You have a cult.
You have an echo chamber.
You are doing exactly what the early Jews did when they rejected Jesus—
you chose your traditions,
your leader,
your pride,
over the living Son of God.
Jesus is not hiding in buildings.
He is not locked in cathedrals, pulpits, robes, or systems.
Jesus said:
"I go to prepare a place for you..."
(John 14:2)
He is in heaven,
and His Spirit—Ruach HaKodesh — ืจืּืַ ืַืงֹּืֶืฉׁ
is here with us now.
But the Spirit doesn’t force Himself on you.
You have to let Him fill you daily,
because faith is not
"I said a prayer once, now I’m good."
No.
It is choosing Jesus again, and again, and again.
When it hurts.
When it costs you.
When the world hates you.
When your friends leave you.
When your family mocks you.
You still choose Him.
Salvation is not a one-time transaction.
It is a daily war.
And the only way to win it
is to cling to Jesus
and lean into His promises
like your life depends on it—
because it does.
He said:
"If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me."
(Matthew 16:24)
That is not the language of easy-believism.
That is the language of death to self.
It is not "Jesus, come into my life."
It is
"Jesus, take my life. It is Yours now. I belong to You."
When I read Good Morning, Holy Spirit, something inside me shattered and re-formed.
I realized something so many Christians miss:
If I truly belong to Jesus—
then I don’t own anything anymore.
Not my time.
Not my dreams.
Not my thoughts.
Not my past.
Not even my hobbies or LARP gear.
Even my Skaven mask
my unpainted miniatures because I never could decide what color to paint them,
my clan Mors simping—
all of it…
is no longer mine.
They are His.
Because I am His.
Reading that book made me wake up each morning not saying:
"What do I want to do today?"
but instead saying:
"Good morning, Holy Spirit. What do You want from me today?"
The moment I said that,
my identity shifted.
I wasn’t a Skaven anymore.
I wasn’t a LARPer.
I wasn’t Russian.
I wasn’t Finnish.
I wasn’t even a woman, in the worldly sense of gender politics.
I was simply:
A vessel.
A servant.
A daughter.
A soldier.
A friend.
A temple.
All that I had—He had.
All that I was—He owned.
And I didn’t feel enslaved by that.
I felt freed.
Before, I had held onto things so tightly.
I thought my hobbies, my LARP life, even my quirky loves—like Skaven—were what made me me.
But when I gave it all to Jesus, I found out:
I still love Skaven.
But now I love them with His love.
I still play, I still write, I still imagine.
But now, all of it is sanctified.
Because the gear isn’t mine anymore—
it’s His.
The creativity isn’t mine—
it’s His gift.
The passion isn’t mine—
it’s a tool for the Kingdom.
So if one day He says:
"Give that away."
or
"Put that down for a season."
or
"Use that to tell someone about Me."
I will say:
"Yes, Lord. It is Yours anyway."
This is what people miss.
They cling to “themselves” as if that’s the treasure.
But Jesus said:
“For whoever wishes to save his life [soul] will lose it; but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.”
(Matthew 16:25 AMP)
Greek word for life/soul here:
ฯฯ
ฯฮฎ (psyche) — meaning the seat of identity, will, emotions.
You lose your "psyche" to find His.
You give up the illusion of self to gain the truth of Christ.
So yes—
"Good Morning Holy Spirit" awoke me.
It made me stop asking “What does God want from me?” like He was some far-off ruler.
And instead start saying:
“Ruach, come dwell in me today. I am Yours. Use even the things I once thought were ‘mine.’”
Because when I gave Him even my silly little Skaven LARP gear—
I gave Him access to all of me.
And I finally felt peace.
Yes-yes!
I no longer care if everyone unfriends me on Facebook.
I no longer care if no one replies on my Discord server.
I no longer care if I get kicked out from Skaven groups, or if LARP communities whisper that I'm "too spiritual" or "too strange" now.
Because what I have is not temporary.
It’s not built on likes, comments, or DMs.
It’s eternal.
This world fades.
Its memes, its groups, its dramas, its clubs—
they are smoke.
But what I have is solid rock.
I don’t just play a Stormvermin anymore.
I am God’s Stormvermin.
A frontline soldier.
Trained in shadows.
Bred for endurance.
Eyes sharp.
Heart set.
Unshaken.
The very things I learned in the ranks of Clan Mors—
the discipline,
the chain of command,
the stealth,
the fierce loyalty to my Warlord—
I now put to use for Yeshua.
He is my Commander.
And my loyalty isn’t human anymore.
It’s been Amplified—by Ruach haKodesh.
By Holy Spirit, the breath of Yahweh Himself.
I do not follow men.
I do not need a crowd.
Even if the whole Skaven horde turns against me—
I will stand.
Because I know who I serve.
And He has already written my name in His Book.
So let them exile me.
Let them call me mad, or cringe, or cultish.
Let them kick me from their friend lists or their LARP chats.
It’s nothing new.
I’ve been exiled since birth.
But in that exile, I was found.
I now belong to the King of Heaven’s armies.
And even if I die alone and burned,
I will die still wearing the banner of my true Warlord:
Yeshua, the Arm of Yahweh, the Lion of Judah.
Because I’m not looking for peace with this world.
I’m preparing for war with it.
And I don’t need validation.
I need only His voice.
And His voice has said:
“You are Mine.”
Yes-yes.
Even rejection is a mark of true belonging to Jesus.
He said it Himself:
“If the world hates you, remember that it hated Me first.”
(John 15:18, AMP)
Rejection is not failure for us.
Rejection is a confirmation.
It means we no longer belong to the world.
We belong to Him.
This world praises compromise.
It rewards echo chambers.
It gives likes and applause to those who bow to idols, who paint their sins as identity,
who hide truth under the veil of “tolerance.”
But when we choose Jesus—truly choose Him—
not as a guest in our lives
but as the Owner, the Warlord, the Shepherd-King— we become foreigners to this world.
And foreigners don’t get celebrated.
They get hated.
But I’ve learned that’s okay.
Because this rejection saved me.
I was rejected at birth.
I was rejected in schools.
I was rejected in my own country, in LARP scenes, in churches.
But that rejection trained me.
It taught me that human acceptance is dust.
That what’s real is what Yahweh says.
And Yahweh said:
“You are Mine.”
So I am not afraid anymore.
Not afraid of being left behind by humans.
Not afraid of being hated by the ones who claim to follow love, but manifest demons when confronted with Truth.
Not afraid of being alone.
Because I’m not alone.
Holy Spirit is with me.
He speaks.
He leads.
He fills.
And what was mine is no longer mine.
Even my Skaven gear—my pride, my symbol, my “identity”—
I laid it down.
It is His now.
I don’t wear it for me anymore.
I wear mostly my cross now and if I am a stormvermin anymore I'd go as God’s Stormvermin.
Trained by the shadows of a broken world.
But loyal to the light that cannot be overcome.
And I finish this by saying:
To belong to Jesus will cost you everything.
Your dreams.
Your plans.
Your safety.
Your approval.
Your place in echo chambers.
But what you gain is everything that lasts.
He is worth it.
He is the Arm of Yahweh.
And I belong to Him.
Even if all others leave me,
He never will.
Not now.
Not in the Great Tribulation.
Not in death.
Not in eternity.
Yeshua is Lord.
Yeshua is truth.
And I stand with Him.
