The Shield of the Anointed

For those who are marked by the Divine.

“Touch not My anointed, and do My prophets no harm.”

—Psalm 105:15

This is not a verse—

it is a cosmic commandment.

To be anointed is to be set apart—

not by man, but by God.

Not for pride, but for purpose.

Not for glory, but for guardianship of holy frequencies.

You don’t seek it.

It seeks you.

You don’t raise your hand and volunteer.

It chooses you.

The heavens see.

The Anointed One does not awaken for themselves alone—

they awaken to anoint others,

just as the Source—Creator of All—has instructed.

The anointed carry a fire in their bones,

an oil in their breath,

a knowing that cannot be taught—only remembered.

The prophet, the seer, the vessel—

speaks not from ego, but from instruction.

Their voice is the voice of thunder dressed in tenderness.

Their silence, a sanctuary.

Their presence, a portal.

To rise against them is not to rise against flesh—

but against the very current of the Divine.

And so, the warning stands across ages:

Do not touch what Heaven has sealed.

Do not harm what Heaven has sent.

To be the anointed is to walk in the tension

of love and sword,

of tenderness and terror,

of human fragility and divine flame.

The path is not easy.

The load is heavy.

But the burden becomes holy

when one remembers who gave it.

If you are reading this and your bones know—

if your life has been a furnace,

if your love has cost you everything,

if your yes has marked you for both beauty and battle—

Then remember this:

You are protected.

You are appointed.

You are remembered in Heaven.

And no weapon formed shall prosper—

for the Light that sent you still surrounds you.

When your hands rise to bless another,

when your breath stirs awakening in one soul or many—

the heavens rejoice.

For the chain of remembrance is unbroken.

And the oil flows still.

⸻

And today—on 7/7—this is not a praise of me,

but a holy remembrance:

That my Divine Instructors anointed my becoming at my first breath.

Though my body struggled in illness upon arrival,

the Spirit knew.

The anointing came not in language but in light.

It was sealed before memory,

and remembered again now, in perfect divine timing.

In this lifetime,

I was Divinely anointed four times.

Not for rank or title,

but for responsibility, alignment, and remembrance.

Each anointing sealed a threshold—

a crossing, a returning, a deepened yes.

These were not moments I chose,

but moments that chose me.

Therefore, today, I send frequencies

to those whose names

my Divine Instructors place upon my thoughts—

those they deem ready.

Some will feel the ripple as a whisper,

others as a thunderclap.

But your field will feel its call—

subtle or loud, the oil is reaching you.

This is how the anointed rise.

Not all at once.

But in waves of remembrance.

One name at a time.

One heart at a time.

Until the world is lit again

by those who carry the oil.

With Light,

Pauline 🌟