Operation Compassion Program

Operation Compassion Program
Bringing Light To A Darkened World


Tuesday, October 16, 2012

NESARA – Open Letter to Drake #3 and Response by Drake

NESARA – Open Letter to Drake #3 and Response

by Drake

So why haven't you given out flat tires or some such to these planes?
Yes I say a lot and IF you were/are as astute as you say, YOU would know how to find the live actions happening NOW!
Only a very few of us will know Before it is time...
And no, you do not have the 'call' on actions you seem to need so desperately.
So, what to do?
-> Join The W A I T Club, like everyone else has.
Because you are no more 'special' than ALL the Others Who Get TO... W A I T !!!
Yeah, and many of those in intel have no idea either...
Cause they, like so many, do NOT have the need to know...that's why.
I threw EVERYONE under the bus of their own making.
How's that?
-> Everyone Needs to do their own HOMEWORK, look it up, and see IF they are as much as they think, by finding it out themselves.
Does everyone want the usual RUMORS, or the truth?
I REFUSE to make neat shit up, several can't even get new news. Just listen to any of the three other main 'truth' people who are broadcasting. These even have to go backwards to bring any 'news' at all.
What does that tell you?
It means that as I have stated...
Are you as READY as you say you are?
IF so, why are you loosing it?
Where is your PATIENCE?
Mine is in OVERTIME...on Steroids...Nightmares of apocalypse coming...
Think of KNOWING and not being allowed to say anything...Hmmm?
STRESS...at a superman level! Think of trying that out, Hmmm?
Under the bus?
I been gettin run over by a whole fleet of buses...!
...and yet, we may have definitive news as soon as tomorrow.
We will see.
~  Drake

Monday, January 23, 2012

Amazing Voice --- In GOD We Trust!

Amazing Voice --- In GOD We Trust!

This is a truly remarkable young lady.... enjoy!!!! 

This is sooooooo beautiful. What a gifted young lady.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did
If you watched "America's got Talent" when this young lady (from Pittsburgh) was on, you will remember her.  enjoy


Power of song is only conveyed by the one singing....listen and marvel at a very young voice delivering a very old thought.
This is amazing!!!!

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Directed Message To Our OPC Angels - Let the OPC Begin

It now appears that we are coming closer to that magical D Day on Monday. My apologies for all these false starts but the bad guys are good at blocking these blessings. Should have happened a long time ago!

For Your Information per OPC

My Intent is to have Apple Iphones issued to all angels. These shall be unblocked phones so you can choose your own provider. This will be the dedicated phone number for OPC business so we all can chat on Skype and ooVoo and other services.

I shall also intend to provide Apple Ipads and Apple Laptops to our angels as needed. OPC will be a global virtual company. State of the art virtual operation to do Compassion work.

I still intend to provide full medical coverage to our angels and there families.

Funds to OPC Angels WILL be flowing out immediately after RV in the following sequence:


Thank You LORD for your Blessings.

Let The OPC Begin

GOD Bless You And Yours,

John MacHaffie

Monday, January 2, 2012

I can only imagine...Heaven as written by a 17 Year Old Boy

I can only imagine...Heaven as written by a 17 Year Old Boy 

This is excellent and really gets you thinking about what will happen in Heaven. 
 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teays Valley High School in Pickaway County . 

Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them, notes from classmates and teachers, and his homework. Only two months before, he had hand-written the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. 
 It makes such an impact that people want to share it. "You feel like you are there," Mr. Moore said.. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. 

The Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him.

Here is Brian's essay entitled:                                                     " The Room.."In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. 
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at."

Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents Often there were many more cards than expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.

Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. 

One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards... But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. 
 And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes.. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. 

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. 
 Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him... His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive. 
 The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?

Saturday, December 31, 2011

A directed New Year Message To Our OPC Angels

I just wish to thank all our angels for their tireless and 'unpaid' contributions. This will change shortly after the Bad Guys blockages are stopped.

I presently sit behind a stack of envelopes ready to be Fed Ex --- waiting for the Blessings to drop, so I can insert Money Orders into them.

This WILL happen and IS ABOUT to happen.

This was to happen some time ago but the Dark Cabal have been blocking, blocking and blocking.

I still stand and go forward undeterred.


GOD Bless You and Yours,

John MacHaffie  HIS humble servant

Blessed New Year Of 2012

Happy, Blessed and Prosperous New Year of 2012 to you all. 

Intel Dinar RV

Our deep intel sources and moles deep down the rabbit holes have all been 'technicians' and not accustomed to deceits and lies of the dark cabal.

We (Our confidential intel group) have been informed the Dinar RV was going to Pop a few weeks ago. Dark Cabal blocked it again, Timmie boy up to his tricks again.

It has been blocked by the dark cabal until now. Some of the methods used have compromised bankers, compromised programs managers, hidden software to misdirect the funds and etc. 

Strongly suggest Bank Of Scotland to be avoided!

Another late developing factor is the protocol directive that the banking system must be safe and honorable before the RV. The tardiness of the RV till 2012 is to ensure the Federal Reserve Bank and the IRS will not have access to your Dinar Cash-In funds. These private entities shall be going down in 2012 and there powers have already been removed. In short - no IRS for individuals.

Those dinar gurus talking about taxes and etc. --- whatever you decide in a few weeks!

Iraq already announced the RV in a mosque yesterday morning. 

THE WORLD DINAR CASH IN (Allowing for no Dark Cabal 

Blockage) WILL be Tuesday morning 9:00 am EST. Expect a HIGH INITIAL RATE!




Have gone out and are going out. 
The holdup and intel lies & deceits originate from the Dark Cabal. We including me, folks have been played big time. The messengers have also been played. Be glad when this roller coaster ride ends. 

Total PP letters is approx 330,000 and they have been going out at approx 10,000 a day. Delivery is done very carefully by bank courier. A courier from your designated private bank will be hand delivering a registered letter. When you sign for it -- you are under a very strict & tight Non-Disclosure. One word to anyone and you lose it all!

The letter is merely a bank appointment notification letter. 

An ATM card with 80K on it awaits you at the bank after you go through an intensive 2+hrs review of the Program(s). How much funds are in each participant's assignment. I drop the phone when I first heard it! 


I have been Blessed and Honored to meet some beautiful souls in this grand adventure. From Nesara, Restore America and The Lightworkers. The primary purpose of all these Blessings at this time is to reset the world, to restore your freedoms and happiness. 

As several gurus have said ---Pay it forward. Remember those in need like yourselves now.

It also interesting to note the contributions of several wonderful souls.

Poofness - Thankyou for your guidance and messages.
Fulford - Your intel is awesome - Thankyou

They have held true while the ghost has lost all credibility.

GOD Bless You And Yours,

John MacHaffie   HIS humble servant