Category Archives: God

Tunnel Vision

A year ago, Adam had a stroke after surviving hypothermia, during a flash flood in the dead of winter. Since then, he has struggled daily to eat. The stroke left him weak on the left side of his entire body and caused his throat to partially collapse. I’ve watched him slowly dwindle away over the past 12 months. For the last three months Adam was very sick. Dropping weight much faster and unable to eat at all, he became so weak and frail that I was able to pick him up, despite him being half a foot taller than me. He couldn’t shower or dress alone. I didn’t know it but, I was doing more than lifting him up in my arms. I was carrying his spirit with me. He was dying. Unable to feed himself, losing precious nutrients and struggling to breathe, he couldn’t recharge his own life force. As his partner, I began to channel my own energy into him. The sicker he got, the stronger my focus became, until keeping him alive became so much of a focus it turned into tunnel vision.

Something in me had been set in motion. It was like life support. I went to work, but a part of me stayed home with Adam. I went to sleep, but part of me stayed awake, because he couldn’t sleep. If I did see flashes of energy, it was always somehow connected to his organs. There was constant cleansing going on, but never enough. Then around the middle of January, everything came to a head. Like a big puss blister, the filth that was killing him emerged.

January 15th he asked me to take him to the ER. He had been extremely thirsty for a month, so much that I wondered if he could be diabetic. He had been coughing up fluid and struggling to breathe for about a week, and then vomiting without any nausea those last two days. His whole body violently shook, as if he would convulse any moment. His skin turned grayish yellow. He was immediately taken back, assessed, and the ER doctor sent him to get a chest x-ray and a CT scan of his abdomen. The news was the worst. The doctor told him he would die soon. He had pneumonia, pancreatitis, colitis, was in heart failure, having a heart attack. All of the organs in his abdomen were already shut down. He was expected to die during the night, within hours.

For some reason, we were both very calm when we got that news. Adam, shaking so bad he could barely sit up, told the doctor in emaciated, short breaths “I’m not going to die.” It was in his eyes. Despite everything, a small light. The hospital staff recognized that light. They wanted him to live as much as he did. As much as I did.

In less than 2 hours, he was admitted to the ICU, started on fluids and given insulin by IV, because his pancreas had shut down. He had an 800 blood sugar. They started him on two IV antibiotics, because his white blood cell count was extremely high. They gave him an injection of heparin in his abdomen. His vitals stabilized, but were showing signs of severe cardiac distress. His heart and lungs, still filled with fluid, were now trying to do the job of everything in his body. Even his brain stopped working like it should have. Sometime around 1 am, he started talking gibberish, randomly putting words together to make a sentence. I could see in his eyes, he knew very clearly what he was trying to say, but what was coming out made no sense. “Did we win?” “December mirage 12.” “78 omelet taco.” He told me about seeing two people in the corner of the ICU room – a woman and a man. No one was physically there, but I do not doubt he saw two people who were watching and waiting for him. Adam had one foot in this world and the other in the next. He had a choice – to be at peace and cross over, or to live and fight a great fight. Either way, those angels were there for him, and they stayed there all night.

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At around 2 am, he couldn’t talk anymore. He mumbled, sticking out his tongue and rolling it around. He was still clearly thinking. His eyes told me that he was still in there, so despite his actions, I wasn’t afraid for him. To be honest, I was completely calm. This was like watching the end, and then a rebirth. Like watching a caterpillar transform into a butterfly. It made me think about what goes on inside a butterfly’s cocoon… it’s safe for a time, hidden from the world, but then the time comes for great change. How it must hurt for soft tissue to transform into knuckled appendages…to grow wings and antennae, in the muck and mucus that is feeding you when you are trapped, unable to breathe. It is a process that must be so painful…agonizing, but necessary for the morphing creature within the shell to unfold, break free, breath new air in new lungs, to be more aware of its place in the world, and then escape. It was like that for Adam, and I think on some level, he was aware of everything.

For a few hours between 2 am and 6 am, Adam completely lost his regal, philosophical, musically talented, culturally enriched, and beautiful mind. I kept a vigil as he lost the words to communicate. He kept his eyes on me, until his body slipped into a coma at about sunrise January 16th. This was the time for his rejuvenation. Ultimate rest, for the shedding of the killing filth. I dozed off on the couch in his room when his eyes closed, and slept two hours.

At around 8 am, the ER staff came up to the ICU and quietly checked in on my sleeping beloved. They were amazed at his strength. One woman cried tears of joy with me. Even as he still slept, we both knew Adam had new life. During his deep sleep, his organs started working again. One that first day, his pancreas started to work, then his liver, then his kidneys, stomach, and finally his intestines.

He started talking and making sense at around 9 am. His vitals, and consistent blood tests showed a one step forward, two steps back kind of progress. Blood sugars came down on their own, and then went up, and then down again. His liver enzymes came down, and went up again, and came back down. His white blood cell count was coming down, blood pressure starting coming down, pulse came down, and by midday, the urge to urinate (not in a bottle but in a toilet) miraculously got him up. Through it all, the nurses kept a vigil, giving heparin, insulin now “as needed”, and changing the IV bags of fluid and antibiotics. He was able to eat and keep down a clear liquid diet on the second day, and then full liquids, and then he started to feel hunger, and wanted to eat solids. He asked to be weighed, wondering how much weight he had lost in the past year. He weighed in at 133. That means he lost 56 pounds. I remember walking the ICU halls that day, looking for a nurse to fix an IV occlusion that I couldn’t fix, passing by patients in those other rooms…my mind registered that they all had one eerie thing in common with Adam. Their skin was grayish yellow.

By this time, his progress became lightening fast. By the end of the second day in ICU, his pancreas was working at 100% without insulin, his liver was working at about 80%, his skin was quickly returning to a normal hue, and he was transferred to a recovery room on the 4th floor where he would stay until discharged.

While on the 4th floor, Adam received three “banana bags” of vitamins and minerals. The IV antibiotics were continued until the last minute on his last day (January 20th), just to make sure the bacteria that caused his pneumonia was completely obliterated. His liver enzymes slowly came down. By day 3 he was asking to be wheeled outside for some fresh air. By day 4, he was walking the hospital floor at least three times a day. and by day 5 when he was discharged, he was walking every few hours or so around the clock.

 

When he was being discharged, the ER staff again came up to meet him, and shake his hand. For Adam, this was the first time he remembered seeing them since he was in their care. I don’t know how to say thank you for saving his life. To the dr’s, nurses, the people who prayed for him like warriors, some of them our friends and family, and some who don’t even know him personally. That to me is the sign of true love – to give without condition or expectation. The miracle continues, as he is now eating, with a vigorous appetite, able to swallow much better now than he has in a year, and he’s regaining weight. He was given extra time. We were given extra time. Here’s to new life…

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Give and Take

pizap.com13756727552281I’m about to shake things up. This might sting a little bit. But you know what? That’s OK.

Life is all about an exchange of give and take. Another way to look at giving and taking, is sending and receiving energy. Each one invokes feelings or either love or fear, depending on how we view giving and taking. Sending and receiving. Living. Right now, I want to talk about takers. People who take. Who make a living out of receiving energy, in whatever form, be it physical, metaphysical, emotional.

There are 3 kinds that I’ve found during the course of my life.

  • The amateurs – People who want payment without bartering anything in exchange. You might think I’m talking about the homeless or welfare recipients, because we’re taught to think shamefully on people who are in “that much consistent need.” No, I’m talking about addicts and thieves. They seem to be the most outwardly low, societies scum, but at least they give us the blessing of being obvious. Wanna know why they make themselves so visible? They don’t have to get close to you to take what they want or need. In their mind, you are not part of their equation at all. Their main goal is survival. They think about immediate needs – right here, right now, today. Their presence may be a surprise, short lived, and leave you reflecting on your own life and surroundings. Believe or not, very few people fit into this category.
  • The entrepreneurs – These are people who get under your skin, get close to you, you have to allow them in for them to hurt you, and it’s a process for them. We’re talking about people who lie, cheat, and manipulate. All forms of emotional rape. It may take time for them to show you their true colors because they need to be close to you first in order to get what they need. Control. They feel secure in their income, their job or their place in life. They just want to control everyone in their realm so they can regain some sense of peace that was lost at some point in life, and feel good about themselves. If this person isn’t someone who is in authority, they sure think they are. The majority of the living, breathing human race fits somewhere in this category, at some point in their life. It’s ok to admit it. BTDT myself.
  • The professionals – People who give to have glory, to look important to the world. Masters of disguise, of “putting on a front”, possibly high standing in society, always well loved in their niche.  When you send out a call for help, they are there with chest puffed up, shouting “I’m here! Look what I can do/have done.” For a short while, you and helping you is their new project. And they might even invite some of their friends to see what they have done after the fact, so their friends can give them pats on the back, support, and validation. They might as well come equipped with their very own background music – an angelic choir of “Ahhhhhhh”. But when they get bored of you, they will ever-so-politely forget your importance to them. Why wouldn’t they? You’re stable, and you no longer give them a chance to show the world how wonderful they are.  What a pity. The sad thing is, for someone to fit into this category, they have to be a friend. The only silver lining I can find is that this club has so few members.

Taking is meant to be part of a two-way interaction. We’re supposed to take only when something, as precious as energy, is offered, but many times we think and act out on our fear of losing ourselves, and we take without any interaction.  It takes….love to be brave.

  • To give without anyone noticing you doing so (Matthew 6:4).
  • To give without validation or praise from your peers (Matthew 6:5-6).
  • To give yourself when you have nothing solid under your feet (Matthew 16:24-25).

Hope for the birds in the ‘Doves Nest’

I never went to a rehab center, but it wasn’t because I shouldn’t have. It’s because no one knew there was a need. Not even when I needed it most. I saw the segment on this bible study I’ve been doing for a month, and I want you ladies to know, you’re always on my mind.  You’ve probably heard the reference to the Bible verse many times by now (Matthew 6:25-30), about how God loves everyone, and He provides what ever we need – He even protects and provides for the sparrow, such a tiny creature that seems insignificant and overlooked by people, but never by their Creator.  That was how I felt when I was doing drugs. Insignificant and overlooked by people, and I couldn’t trust God enough to see Him as my Creator back then.

As women, we’re raised to be the nurturing half of a family.  We’re expected to put our feelings last, and that to think of ourselves before anyone else is a sin.  That’s a recipe for disaster, especially when you’re raised in a home where addiction is the quick escape to your miseries.  I was drinking hard liquor by the time I was 14 and smoking dope by that age, and doing it daily by the time I was a junior in high school – and still performing great in all my classes, so no one had a clue.  I’m pretty shocked now, as I look back, being a mother now of three daughters, that even though I was also – at that tender age – dating multiple sexual partners and enjoying every minute of it, that no one thought that might be a silent scream for help as well. I shouldn’t be too shocked, after all, no one knew that I was being raped when I was in preschool by my uncle either. No one cared when I tried to kill myself at age 17, because for some reason the 32 pills I swallowed had no affect on my body.  I simply took about a 2 hour nap, and woke up with a headache I’ll never forget as long as I live. I swear I could hear my grandmother on Mom’s side, talking to me as I woke up, telling me that I was going to be alright and that she was watching over me, telling me she understood how I felt and that she had carried those same burdens when she was my age. She died when I was 11.

I just wanted to tell you all at the Dove’s Nest, that I’m praying for your recovery and your future, and for the past to be just that – a part of you that has passed, and left there. You shall overcome, because God is molding you into a Greater Being, taking the worst and creating cornerstones for a well rounded individual with a heart of gold, who can stand up against any evil knowing you are never without Jesus Christ.

I don’t know if any of you ladies are from the South (capitalized cause, it’s an attitude we have), but this song by Dolly Parton, recorded many years back when George Bush Sr was still President, for 20 years has given me so much hope.

Your friend in Tennessee, Carolyn.

P31 OBS Blog Hop

Becoming a “foster parent”

In every situation, God speaks to us. That’s what I find, anyway.  It’s the littlest things, you know? Where grace can be easily found, if you are willing to just do what God puts in your heart.  Sometimes that takes a little courage. It may be especially scary when times are tough and finances, food, and everything you have is in such small amounts. The good news is, all you need is a big heart. God will provide all of our needs when we put our faith and trust in Him (Matthew 6:25-26).

5 days ago, we received some very sad news about some friends of ours who we had not seen in about 8 months. A married couple.  They were our neighbors when we lived in that campground, just ten feet from us. We shared meals together every day, spent time in each others homes every day, and our dogs became best friends, despite both of their breeds (Chihuahua and Jack Russell) making each territorial and dominant.  Our friends became very lost after we moved….they separated, and recently got back together, except during the course of their split, the woman had become a meth addict, even cooking it herself. Her husband took her back knowing that, and within just 3 days of her return, they were busted for making meth, right there in their tiny trailer home.

My husband and I were both shocked.  Everyone we knew from that campground was texting us or contacting us on Facebook to tell us the news. The sheriff, fire department, haz mat team had come, had taken the mans truck, tools, trailer, ripping out all their belongs, hosing down the couple, burning a great deal of things. It was very scary. I’m a little glad I wasn’t there to see it.  Once we got over the shock of the news, both my husband and I immediately thought “What about their dog?” What had happened to her?  Where was she? God was putting a thought in both our hearts: Help Shotzi.

I started asking around. It turns out that at the time of the bust, one of the neighbors there in the campground acted very quickly and grabbed the Jack Russell  mix while the house was being stripped and the couple was being arrested, so she wasn’t in the pound.  She couldn’t keep the dog because she can’t even afford to pay her rent and feed herself. I immediately drove the 45 minute trip to where we used to live and picked up Shotzi. I was worried about bills on the way. Worried about gas money, about the long wait til the next pay day when I could stock the fridge and pantry.  I was listening to K-LOVE, the radio station my car radio stays on 24/7. The female DJ was talking between songs about how, no matter what the situation is in your life right now, God is the Great Provider. I needed that reminder! I knew everything would some how be OK and that this was what God wanted us to do. All we had to do was answer the call, and trust in the process and give it to Him.

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When I first saw her, she immediately remembered me, even though we hadn’t seen her in 8 months! She greeted me with a thousand licks. She was visibly shaken. Her eyes echoed the loss and confusion of not knowing what was happening, why she lost her family. Unlike her normal self, she was docile and malaise. I knew it was from exposure to the meth fumes. It had been 3 days at that point.  During our ride home, I talked to her as if she could talk back to me. I told her how sad I was to hear about what had happened, and how I knew her family could find some peace knowing that she would be staying at our home for how ever long they couldn’t be with her, even if that meant years. I know Shotzi knew I was there to help her. She gratefully crawled in my lap as I drove home, wanting nothing more than to be as close as she could to something she knew was safe.

When I got us home to our little trailer, she recognized it immediately, running up the steps to our door. She saw Adam and instantly rushed to him, giving her whimpers and woofs and chirping barks, telling him everything that had happened in the last few days. Her expression said “Ohhhhh my God, you would not believe what all has happened! You don’t smell the same but I don’t care!”

Lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick-lick.

Michi, our chihuahua was thrilled to have his girlfriend back. He seemed to understand without any explanation, that she was going to be a part of our little family, for however long she needed to be.

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I bathed her really good as soon as we got her settled in, to get the meth fumes off of her. They seeped from her skin for a few hours more, but by morning, she was smelling like a Jack Russell, using the bathroom normally and eating and drinking water normally, bouncing up and down, excited to go for walks and play fetch.

The first morning, waking up with her, I caught the most beautiful moment on camera, as Shotzi and Michi both seemed to share a deep conversation with Adam, who was still waking up.

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I think I know what Shotzi was saying. She was saying “Thank you.” Michi was saying “Dad, get up so I can have your nice, warm spot.” And thats what Michi did, as soon as Adam sat up.

We pray for our friends, that they will somehow find the healing they need through all that has happened.  We know the good they are capable of, and that everyone gets lost, and everyone makes mistakes.  I hope they can find peace knowing Shotzi is safe.

Giving comfort when the miracle doesn’t come

My story is not anything powerful or life changing. I’m a Christian who does not go to church. I’m not religious. I started this bible study because I don’t fit in anywhere, but I do know I need fellowship, and I would love it if it was with other Christian women, even if they do look at me like I’m a freak. I was a stay at home homeschooling mother of 4 children, who taught sunday school at church and vacation bible school, until 2 years ago when my (now ex) husband threw me out of our home after 17 years of marriage.  Although I never lost my faith in God, I did feel a lot like Job. I never imagined anyone could hurt that much. God showed me different.

I’m a barista at a Starbucks kiosk inside of a major corporate grocery store. We’re open from 6 am to 9 pm everyday. Last night, at 9:20 pm, after me and the other closing employee finished closing up the Starbucks and as we were walking together to clock out and go home, we ran into an older woman who came in the grocery store with one sole intention – to get a Starbucks White Mocha Latte.

You could tell she had been crying. She was visibly WIPED…and when she saw that we were not only closed but getting ready to walk out, she started to sob, again.  I calmly asked her what kind of drink she wanted, and she went into detail and said her son wanted a White Mocha, 120 degrees, no whip.  She also told us that he was dying in the hospital right across the street.  I don’t know if she meant he was dying that night or dying slowly, but I didn’t care.  I looked at the other barista and looked at her, and knew God was asking me to go back, reopen the kiosk, reassemble the espresso machine and dirty up quite a few machine parts just to make this one drink.  The other barista (the wife of a pastor) didn’t give me any verbal exchange, she just walked out the door.  I told the woman, “I’ll do it.”

I went back, reassembled the espresso machine and white mocha pump and made her a Venti White Mocha, 120 degrees, no whip, and made her the Venti Dark roast coffee she asked for when we got there (having to grid fresh coffee for a pour over, since the pots were already washed and broken down).  She didn’t go into much detail, but she broke down several times in those 5 minutes. I held her as I walked her over to the cash register in the grocery check out aisle so she could pay, since our register was already closed for the night.

She kept asking me why I went out of my way to reopen and make the drinks, did I know what it was like to watch my child die?  I told her about my youngest child who lives with Type 1 Diabetes and how its almost killed her 7 times in her 12 years, but that no, I still had no idea what it was like. I had lost my four children in a custody battle, and in losing them, I grieved as if they had all died, because they were my entire life, but no I didn’t know what it was like…I didn’t have to know, all I knew was this mother was going to lose her precious child soon…probably a man who was the same age as my husband and myself.  And that his dying wish was for something I could actually give him, and in doing so, bring some comfort to hopefully him and his mother, who wanted him to be out of pain and healed of the cancer.

Re-closing and rewashing twice in one night, and leaving a little bit later than normal, is worth being able to give comfort to someone who’s heart is breaking,  especially when the miracle they want doesn’t come. #YesToGod

Friendships and technology

True friendship is priceless and can’t be measured, contained, defined, or bound by any earthly means. I’m aware of that. But God put something in my heart just now, that will bust me at the seams if I don’t write it out. I wanted to look at how friendships have changed as technology has changed over just a lifetime.

In the 70’s: Hanging out with a friend meant going out of your house and walking,or riding your bike, to your friends house or to your favorite “hang out” corner, and talking face to face.  I remember walking a mile or more and thinking it was no big deal. I remember my great-grandmother walking that distance and she thought it was no big deal! You could also call someone on the phone, if that person had a phone. Fights, backstabbing and lies were less common, because the person doing the lying/backstabbing had to deal with their victim face to face.

In the late 80’s: we had this groovy brand new thing called the “world wide web” or “bulletin board” that required you to do a wild hook up with some Radio Shack purchased phone adapter gadget that looked like it was swallowing your phone – and I mean the old fashioned kind of phone, with a “microphone speaker” and a “voice speaker”, then dialing 16 numbers to connect long distance (which resulted in AT&T sending your mother a bill for $1000 the next month) to a server, and waiting for about 30 minutes for the connection, that would happen at the amazing speed of about 300 baud.  Never heard of baud? There’s a reason. This was usually encompassed by nights of D&D, inventing new DOS programs in order to play TIC TAC TOE on a green screen, and typing the words IF and THEN until your keyboard died. The connection was with usually 1 friend at a time. You had the ability to be anonymous only if that person could not track down your physical address by using your phone number.
aimiconBetween the early and late 90’s,people used e-mail to contact others, or chat rooms at places like AOL (these chatrooms were as crowded as a baseball stadium and getting the “boot” was an everyday experience). Writing an email required more thought back in those days – to actually type out a “letter” and type out the email address, and send it. The dial-up experience was getting a little faster, it was 9600 baud by then if memory serves, and phone companies were getting with the program by allowing free long distance!!!!!

Somewhere between 2000 – Myspace: Keeping in touch with friends meant going to a forum (writing an email to a friend and saying “You should check out this forum, we can talk there, they have a quiet and private chatroom!”), typing in yourscreen name and password, and reading pages and pages, finding “the right one” to respond to with your thoughts. Friendships were capable of being many, but a lot of contact meant a lot of multi-tasking. Connection time was DSL, very fast and reliable. A few more bullies, but it was manageable. You could always open your own free forum for your friends to use to get away from hurtful people online.

Myspace: Our first taste of instant gratification, mass appearances of anonymous bullying online, and speaking to friends and relatives very easily.

Facebook-Like-ButtonAnd then came wi-fi, Facebook, and mobile uploading of photos/status updates: Staying in touch with a friend or relative is as easy as following them on your news feed – in essence they come to you, so speaking to them requires no effort. At the same time, if you want to be a blazing asshole and show the world how much you need to shut your mouth by not doing so – no effort is required, and you can even do it anonymously, thanks to Facebook allowing multiple accounts to the same IP address (using a different email to set up an alternate account).

And then came the government legally monitoring every thing we say and who we contact, day to day. It was bound to happen, but did you notice that it only happened when we made it easy?

All of the above is a reminder to me of just how precious true friendships really are, and how with great power comes great responsibility.

Thank you to all of my friends for being there, especially the ones who have made every effort to stay in touch – through us all growing up and moving, through our marriages, divorces, job changes, technology changing around us, and our ever-changing homefront.

Immeasurable Miracles

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I took this photo 2 days ago. With it, I want to talk about healing.

God is the Great Physician. God heals miraculously, spiritually, physically, and emotionally.

Sometimes when we pray for healing, we think the prayer is answered only if the measured miracle happens – the illness disappears.  For a disease, we ask for a cure.  During and after a crisis, we ask for safety and security.  When we are watching a loved one deteriorate at the very end, we ask for a peaceful passing.

I remember 3 months ago, praying for Adam to survive his stroke.  There was a warm feeling that rushed over me when I pleaded with God for a miracle, and I knew Adam would live. I knew he would never be the same, but that there would be a greater good happening as a result.  I didn’t know the details. I didn’t know the when or the how, or the why. I’m thankful for that, too – because waking up every day, seeing his progression as his spirit and his physical body heals,  is such a gift.

As I’ve watched the physical and spiritual transformation happening to my life partner over the last 3 months….over the last month…over the last week….as I come to grips with his newness and appreciate his oldness, I see Healing before our eyes that is without form, immeasurable, and undeniably God.

The world around us says that healing takes place one way, but God will give it His way. In truth, the Healing that comes is for the Glory of our Creator, and it’s only in whatever form God says is right.

It’s not always visible and immediate, but it is given always.  

Watching God Work

3 months ago, Adam survived a massive stroke that stripped him of his left side, of many memories, of the ability to open his left hand and play guitar, of the ability to remember the words and chords to the hundreds of songs he has played to eclectic crowds for almost the last 30 years. He’s spent the last 3 months relearning how to walk and talk, trying to grasp the concept of time and keep track of it. God has moved Mt. Vesuvius for Adam to heal mentally and physically as much as he already has.

Today, another miracle happened. Today Adam was baptized by Christ!  Not in a church, but in the campground where we reside here on Mother Earth. Because, that is where we are.  Adam wanted to be washed clean and become God’s servant, and he reached out in obedience.  Dian, our friend who is not an ordained pastor, but simply a brave, obedient and open minded servant of God, agreed to drive an hour to our doorstep, and give Adam God’s gift of salvation.

It was better than being in a church! I watched the partner God gave to me two years ago today, become the husband that God is making for me.  I watched a shell of a man that I have known and loved for 27 years become filled with the Holy Spirit, and sins washed away, curses removed, and a lifelong hunger filled.

I’ll never forget what Adam said as he repented his sins – “I wanna be washed clean, ” He begged, “Please let’s get some water.” He could barely sit still, he wanted it so bad.

I’ll never forget the words Dian spoke as she prayed over him before and after she used my grandmas old pot to pour the water over Adam’s head.   She asked that all his afflictions be taken away, addictions lifted, and he be healed, and if God sees fit for Adam to play the guitar again, that God use him however He see’s fit, to fill hearts with heavenly music and lead others to Christ. I felt stones being laid, like the beginning of a path.

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It goes to show that you don’t have to be a member of a church to be used by God, to spread truth and give hope and strength.  You don’t have to be certified on paper. You just have to have a heart for God, and be brave enough to answer the call when you’re asked.  It was breath taking. And I know that in order for me to be the wife Adam needs in our future, that I need to woman-up and give Adam Godly discipleship.

 

The Other Side of My Cardboard

 

 

God has really worked on me today…this morning I woke up so unable to celebrate the Easter holiday, apathetic and still buried in sorrow from the loss of my children…

My heart is broken. That hasn’t changed. But, I have so many reasons to celebrate Easter. I know that Jesus is my Savior. I love God, but God loves me a lot more.

If I can add to this cardboard testimony….

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Signs of Equality

8545_10151845914042468_2116655436_nI love the equal signs that have flooded Facebook today!  The message is warm, and ultimately respectful. I so want to see Congress grow a pair…and take action to allow equality in every aspect of life, and marriage is only part of that picture.  How sad it is, that we must rely on a government that was built on freedom from oppression, and developed with fierce diversity….to dictate to us… who we can marry, who we can legally kiss, hold, live a life with, parent with, cherish the golden years with, and die beside.

If you need a social comparison of how bizarre it is…to judge people by who they love…to understand it..

I wasn’t prejudiced in the 70’s growing up, when integrated schools were “new” and “being tried out experimentally in various school systems” in Alabama. I was raised to be open minded, to form bonds with people based on their personality, not by their skin color, not by what they wore, not by what they believed in, not by what political party they supported, or who they married…by my grandparents, who were all born in the 1910’s-1920’s – who must have been raised to be equally respectful of others by their parents and grandparents (born in the 1880’s-1910’s), despite societies norms which purposely divided people according to race in the time of my grandparents and parents, and according to sex in the times of my great-grandparents.

In this day and age, it’s almost ridiculous to think that white women were not treated equally, not given an equal chance as white men to have an education, or to vote, or to work, or to make an equal wage. It’s almost absurd to think that people were once separated in schools, or assigned to different classrooms, simply because their skin colors were not the same. I remember not being able to share a classroom with my neighborhood playmates in the first years of elementary. It’s painful, but it was real. I saw it.  Alabama was one of the last to integrate. It blows my mind personally, to think that if you had the unfortunate experience of being born a natural descendant…if you were of the 3rd or 4th, or 10th generation of a person who was kidnapped and sold off the docks of Africa in the 1700-1800’s, and you were born and raised in the USA, and you worked here, and raised your family… and you were even able to fight for the country in war and die with pride doing so, in other words, if you were “black”, you were still not allowed to cast a vote in my country until the 1960’s.  You couldn’t even use the same bathroom or drink from the same water fountain.  That sounds so painful to read in black and white. The “you can’t be gay” rule is no less ridiculous, absurd…painful.

Please let today be a new beginning for equality in marriage across the USA. Many of my friends and some of my family have been waiting on this moment.

Some of them for a very long time.

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