Category: Uncategorized

It seems that each time I visit a new doctor or have a new procedure done, more of the puzzle of what caused my illness emerges. The most recent development threw me for a loop, though, I must admit.

Apparently, my illness is not a recent thing. According to the specialist in the field of advanced lung disease and transplants, I have been exposed to something, in his words, day in and day out for a long, long time. Kind of like miner’s with coal dust or a more recent phenomena, dentists and dental hygienists and particles of tooth.

What caused my severe allergic reaction issue, I don’t know and we may never know. It could have been the smog in LA that I lived in for many decades, the dust that kicked up there constantly, the mold from the house next door, the dander from my former cats or even something as simple as the down pillows I have slept on most of my adult life.

The doctor I am seeing now is very interested in my case. He asked permission to present it at a conference that is coming up. I figure that having many specialists look at the issues may be of benefit to me, so why not?

We’ve determined that I am at 57% lung capacity, which seems to be both not so great and good at the same time. I am apparently way too healthy to consider as a candidate for a lung transplant. We are about conserving and maintaining my lungs rather than trying to replace them.

My allergies still continue to be an issue and, with that in mind, I had 13 vials of blood taken to do sophisticated allergy tests. I don’t think I set a record or anything but it was certainly an impressive amount of blood.

I’m currently on a steroid (thanks to pneumonia from cottonwood pollen) and will hopefully move to a more cutting edge medication in the next month or so. While I like the reading I get in at night, I would actually like to get more than an hour or two of sleep. After seven weeks with the prospect of that much more, a good night’s sleep is awfully appealing. But on the plus side, I am reading through more of my books than I ordinarily do.

I’ll let the doctors do more investigation (though, of course, I felt like I needed to provide them a list of things that may have been exposure issues.)

Interestingly enough, the craft items that they thought initially were to blame were not. However, as part of preserving my lungs, I will be looking for new hobbies that don’t throw micro-dust in the air about me. My husband has suggested that I consider rock climbing or log throwing but I think I am busy all of those weeks. Perhaps writing, playing the piano, jewelry making, watercolors, drawing, and still designing cross stitch but not stitching it all the time. A whole myriad of choices stretch before me to explore.

I can still do bits and pieces of the crafts that I enjoy but will have to wear masks while doing so. That will get old quick so I will figure out what my new hobbies will be sooner rather than later.

One thing is for sure, my primary hobby/job/vocation are the exercises that I have worked out with my physical rehabilitation therapist. He will probably only be working with me for a few more weeks as I will graduate to doing the workouts completely on my own.

Right now, I am being challenged by core exercises for the first time in many years. That I am doing them on a memory foam bed makes it even more difficult. When I complain, my therpaist says, great, it’s good for you. Which of course makes me laugh and try all the harder to get done what needs to be done.

We’ve come a long way in the last few months. To get an idea of what I am doing daily, I’ll give you my schedule of events on optimal days:

7am – get up and get dressed (harder than it sounds but I sure enjoy taking care of myself)

8am – walk a quarter mile with supplemental oxygen while carrying ten pounds. (weights to increase over time)

9am – walk a quarter mile with supplemental oxygen as fast as I can while staying above 90 oxygen

10am – walk a quarter mile (slowly) without supplemental oxygen staying above 90 oxygen

11am – walk a quarter mile with supplemental oxygen while trying to find my pace (slower walk but one where I maintain a good oxygen rate)

Noon – walk staircase, do free weight arm exercises (currently using two three pound weights but weights to increase over time) and leg exercises (freestanding and partially supported)

2pm – walk one half a mile (slowly) without supplemental oxygen staying above 90 oxygen

4pm – walk one half a mile with supplemental oxygen as fast as I can while staying above 90 oxygen

6pm – walk one half mile with supplemental oxygen while carrying ten pounds (weights to increase over time.)

8pm – walk the staircase while carrying weights (currently at 2lbs but will increase to ten over time)

10pm – bath and ready for bed – again a pretty taxing task for me these days. It is pretty much the only time of day that I bump my oxygen levels up from one to two. At level one, I am pretty much in a state of challenging exercise at all times so it is nice to have an hour where I don’t have to monitor my breathing too much.

* alternate for times when walking is too difficult – do a movement based task going through items to give to other – clears them out of my house and gets them in the hands of people of enjoy them)

* second alternate for times when walking is too difficult – do a movement based task of my choice. I use this time for something I enjoy doing.

That’s a schedule that keeps me out of trouble! We’ve moved to harder tasks but every other hour in the afternoon to give me some me time for reading, napping or whatever feels right that day (though I usually choose an activity that is a harder exercise than I would have scheduled anyway.) I’m learning how to dial back when I don’t feel well and to slowly move back up.

This weekend was challenging as, of all things, sand from the Sahara desert was blowing into North Texas and playing havoc with my ability to breathe. I learned techniques to help and will be able to apply them in the future. I’ve always had a problem with stopping abruptly when confronted with issues and then being unable to restart. That can’t happen again, so learning the new skills and self control is important for me.

Through this and my husband taking over cooking duties (I can’t use the gas range while on oxygen), I’ve managed to lose 34 pounds in the last six months. I can’t really recommend almost dying as a good weight loss method but I’ll take it in the plus column for me. Also, who knew my husband would be such a great cook? He’s also lost about 50 pounds with his lower fat style cooking, so all is going well for the two of us.

Through all of this, I say Praise the Lord! He has been so very, very good to me. He has held me up and kept me safe when the enemy has tried to tear me down and destroy me. At the time the damage was actually being done, I was in a bad place.

It was probably around the time that my son passed away. I had stopped living the life that God planned for me and, instead, starting waiting to die. I wasn’t depressed but I could not see my way into the future. It took years and the birth of my first grandchild to make me see a future where I could be of use and thrive.

In the nearly five years since my grandson was born, my health started to decrease and culminated with the hospitalization and lung issues I have. While my health has suffered, my spirit has grown and blossomed. I’m doing what I’ve been called to do and life is very good.

God made sure that I was equipped for the battle as it has raged and he is still holding me up and keeping me safe. I trust him for my healing and spiritual growth. I must admit I am so pleased that so many doctors get to hear the story of my faith in Jesus Christ and get to witness what he has done and will continue to do with my life to glorify his name.

Romans 8:28-30

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.

And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.

I always wonder at those who cannot see that we have been made by a Creator and are not the happenstance of stars and such smashing together and apart again.

Intellect discarded evolution as a means of creation. (After all, the fossil record is nowhere complete – where are the four and six and eight and ten cell organisms? Where are the “tweens” between fish and bird and fish and land? One would think the record would be inundated with such and yet, they do not exist at all.)

I see the evidence of our Creator in everything. I “see” designs appear out of marks on the floor, the texture of a wall. I hear music from the sounds of the dryer turning, the refrigerator running, the jingling of the joints of a car as you drive down the street.

All of this is created in my mind from the world around me. I can’t stop hearing or seeing these things. I walk to the beat of this music that I hear. I stop in wonder of the face of a bird that appears suddenly on the wicker of a basket.

The real evidence of a Creator is that we ourselves are compelled to also create. We are made in the image of God, that means we are an extension of him. At least we were before sin entered the world and broke that connection into shreds on the floor.

Even so, we are still in the image of God and, because of that, we continue to reach for new creations. Some of these creations are good (in some ways like those of God in the first days); some creations are evil because we are evil due to our sin nature.

I look around at those whom I know and see the same evidence of creative work in their lives. A newer friend of mine followed God’s calling and left her old life behind in India to come to the United States to marry. Once here, she picked up a paintbrush and the most beautiful art starting spilling out. Her husband, one of my older friends, is a musician and can create wonderful melodies and stirring lyrics.

I marvel at my daughter’s mother-in-law, who can cut up fabric and sew it back together in beautiful arrangements that have shape and purpose in warming quilts for the bed. Her husband takes mica and wood and creates Arts and Crafts style lamps.

My elder daughter can create lovely art in traditional ways but also yummy and gorgeous art in the baked items she makes for her family. My son-in-law has stories that take birth in his mind and are written down for others to enjoy. My younger daughter is creative in so many ways, with traditional art, textiles and more. My husband can take a photo, a piece of wood and create intricate and delightful wood jigsaw puzzles.

Even my young grandchildren take blocks and create buildings and such. They take a jumble of a puzzle and create a picture from them.

For me, I have found that whatever my hand finds to work becomes something that I am compelled to create. I cross stitch both other artists patterns and those that I create to share with others. I crochet and knit warm scarves, hats and shawls. I color to create a world which reflects that in my mind. I have even taken Barbie dolls, remove off their hair, wipe their faces and reroot and remold them into postures that are pleasing to me with the face paint that and hair that I want them to have. There are so many creative avenues to explore and I want to try so many during the time I have on this earth.

There are times and days when I feel the music of God running through me. I want to dance and sing with all my might, just as David did. As I physically cannot do that due to my illness these days, I close my eyes and dance and sing to the Lord within the confines of my mind.

That we are compelled to create is not just an odd manner of behavior or something that we have picked up. It is part of us. We were actually commanded to create. God told us to be fruitful and multiply.

Creating a new individual is a blessing from God. It also contains the most important job we will ever be responsible for apart from serving the Lord. The care and nurturing and training of those who will follow us.

We have this drive to create and, on the surface, the world appears to be a beautiful and wonderful place. In actuality, it is a fallen world headed further and further into chaos. Our creations are a pale shadow of the reality that we were meant to have. When sin entered the world, everything changed. The beautiful creation of God was sent into a tailspin. From beauty untold to inevitable destruction.

Mankind, at its heart and separated from God, is evil. That is all of us, not just some of us. We all inherited the curse of sin from our father Adam. We, absent a new birth in Christ, are at odds with God. His enemy, if you will.

We want things our way and not the right way. We can create something lovely and think it good. At the same time, as a people, we create havoc and destruction and pain and suffering and death and think it a good thing, too. Regardless of the beauty or the evil intent, without Jesus at the center of our creation, it is all a house of cards. Something to behold but nothing of any real and lasting use.

The Bible tells us that Jesus was the creative force and that not one thing that was created was done so without him. Thankfully for us, Jesus is not done yet. He will, one day, return to this earth for the judgement. At that time, a new heaven and new earth will be created and it will endure forever.

I look forward to that day as I know that I am in right standing with God. I know that all of my sins, whether in thought or deed, will be read aloud. I know that, on my own, I am guilty and deserve the worst of punishments.

Thankfully, I am not on own. Jesus took my sins away with his perfect sacrifice. He willingly took on my guilt so that I could be presented to God as wholly good and clean. He died so that I could receive a Not Guilty at judgement. He rose again from the dead to show that his sacrifice of his sinless life had removed the sting of death from the consequences of that first sin and I, as well as others who have accepted this gift, were free from the eternal curse of sin.

I serve a risen savior. The creator of everything. His love is there for you as well. He died for your sin, too. There is no price for you to pay, no good deed to accomplish. There is only the need to accept his gift of love and to become one of his own. Once you do this, your life will forever be changed. You will have a place in eternity with Jesus, who as both man and God loved your so much, he could not bear the idea of eternity without you.

He is standing at the door of your heart asking for you to accept his gift. Please don’t ignore the calling of your spirit. You are only given today. Yesterday is gone forever and no promises are made for tomorrow. Today is the day to call upon the name of God to fix the broken relationship between you. Bring all of your brokenness to him and he will make you perfect and good and beautiful.

It is my prayer that you heeded his call and that I can now call you my sister or brother in Christ. That we will share in the time of the new creation and then be able to spend eternity together creating our masterpieces throughout the universe as God originally intended.

Revelation 21:1-5

Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”

One of the things that I most look forward to these days is when my grandchildren can come to visit. Because I’m on steroids (combating another bout of the allergic reaction pneumonia that I first experienced last fall, I’m somewhat immune suppressed. That means if the kids are not at the peak of health, we have to pass and not see them that week. It’s hard when that happens because we so look forward to it but we know it is better to wait and stay as well as possible.

We’re blessed to have children (both my daughter and son-in-law) who sincerely want their parents to be a present factor in the lives of their children. They go out of their way to make opportunities for both sets of grandparents to spend true quality time with the little ones.

I was lucky enough to be both well and have the time and energy to help out when my grandson had issues shortly after birth. He had successful heart surgery at age six weeks but needed someone to watch him during the days while he recovered and caught up with his abilities.

To have him five days a week and be able to really help him make progress in recovery is a memory I will always cherish. He’s almost five and the days of catching up are long behind him. He plays puzzles and Legos and likes to watch superheroes with us. He is especially drawn to my husband and my husband to him as well. It must be the Lego bond.

When my granddaughter was born, the kids had established a nice pattern of letting each set of grandparents take a grandchild one day per week so we could time with each child on their own. We alternated children/week and it was wonderful. On weekends, we would usually get to spend a couple of hours with both grandchildren at the same time (though at their home instead of at ours.)

My granddaughter is a beautiful and loving little one. Right from the start, just holding her relaxed me and gave me rest. She is definitely a delight for me to talk to and to play with. At almost two and a half, she likes to wear my jewelry, watch her Nana exercise, play puzzles and Lego Duplos when she visits. She also likes to get tastes of my lunch though hers is always much more appealing but after all, Nana’s food has to be good as well!

These days, the kids come to us as I have to be extremely careful about what outside environment factors I’m exposed to. They make the time and the effort to keep our relationships together. I know that it isn’t always easy and that it takes time away from their own family time. There simply aren’t enough words and ways to say thank you to them.

Being a grandparent is so different from being a parent. The heavy lifting is for someone else. The enjoyment of spending time with a child takes over and, maybe because we are in our second childhood, fun and games seem just about right.

As a parent, I had to consider everything. I needed to make sure my children did not get exposed to bad things and, if somehow they did, I needed to be ready to set in and intervene. I must admit that as a grandparent, this would still apply, at least for me. It is so easy for children to be caught up in things of this world rather than in loving and serving God.

It is in the family that the real order of things important in life must be set. It is a heavy responsibility but, apart from serving God, it is the most important one for an individual to have. If a parent puts God first, they will be able to raise their children according to his purpose.

My parents did not, unfortunately, have this outlook and I and my siblings undoubtedly suffered for it. I was a little bit better but as I worked ridiculous hours, I wasn’t as present in my children’s lives as I should have been. They surely suffered for that as well.

It’s a real blessing to see my daughter’s family. They are Christians and are raising their children to love God. What a difference it is already making compared to what I’ve seen and heard in my life.

It makes it easier for me to know that, should something happen to me earlier than I would like, my special little ones are so well taken care of. Not only with such loving parents but also with my son-in-law’s parents as well. His mother is a lovely sister of mine in Christ and just knowing that she is and will be part of the kids lives sets my mind at peace. She’s also very skilled in crafts and needlearts and will certainly teach the kids those skills as I will myself if I am given the time.

I would never have thought that life could turn around so quickly from the difficult days of my youth to such a beautiful and wonderful life for my family. I praise God daily for letting me see and experience this in my lifetime.

He has been good and kind to me when I did not deserve it. He loved me and guided me even when I was his enemy. His love is more than abundant. It is there for us just waiting to find it. He is my Father and it is he who teaches me, just like a child, to know and experience the real order of life. With God first, all things will come into proper order.

That isn’t to say that there are glitches along the way. It seems like every time I start looking at life by the Vicki perspective, I’m inclined to fall off of the path that God has set for me. It is so easy to start thinking of the way I think things should be. I have to constantly remind myself that I have to lean on God and not try to make life decisions without him. When the me in the equation starts getting too big, the results start skewing.

It’s taken most of a lifetime but I am finally able (most of the time) to step back and put myself into proper perspective. If I fail to note I’m putting my thoughts ahead of those of God, I have a wonderful husband who brings it promptly to my attention.

These days, I spend my time getting stronger. I’m eating better than I have in years and, as my daughter told me, though I’m really ill, I’m also in the best condition I have been for a long time. What diametrically opposed results! Only God could set this up. I’m learning to relax and to let him have his way in my life instead of trying to figure out what it is that I’m supposed to do.

I’ve found that letting God reign is the best way to live. What he asks, I’ll do, even when it seems more difficult than I could imagine. And when it turns out that I am able to do what I thought impossible, I give glory to God for the work he has done in me. It’s not me but a reflection of his love and order that shows through me.

Praise God for his plan even when it doesn’t make sense, when you can’t see your way, when all seems dark or so messed up that it can’t be fixed. He is working with you and for you. Give him your life and do as he asks and you too will become a reflection of his love to others.

Proverbs 3:5-6 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.

When I was quite young, on the surface, my father seemed to be a good one. He loved his children and played with them. He was big and strong and made me feel safe with things were scary.

The problem was that he was one of the most scary things in our lives. While he showed love and attention to his children, my mother bore the brunt of all of his anger and disappointment in life. He was mean and cruel to her in words, thoughts and deeds. There is nothing more traumatic for a child than to see their mother knocked unconscious. I kept wishing that I would grow up quick and be able to stop him from hurting her.

That she stayed with him for so many years is pretty much a miracle in itself. I was 12 when they finally divorced. My father walked away from his family with scarcely a backward glance. He headed for Florida which was one of the two states he could live in (at the same) from which my mother could not force child support.

We went from a middle class background to one of poverty overnight. My eldest sister had married and moved but there were still four of us at home with my mother who had a fairly low paying job. She refused to quit her job and go on welfare. While it was a good lesson in work ethics, it also meant that we had little medical and virtually no dental care. I almost lost my front teeth before a teacher noticed and got me into a student dental program.

My mother was also a serial abuser and, as she told me, I was her whipping boy.

I had been prescribed with glasses (which I desperately needed) but would not have the prescription filled for more than two years. While I did well in school before this happened, I found the struggle too difficult when I could not see the board from anywhere in the room. It was so bad that I learned the multiplication table by sound rather than by sight. I stopped going to school and finally, rather than give me up to foster care (which I really wanted at the time), my mother convinced my father to let me go live with him instead.

I arrived in Florida with all of my belongings, which were essentially, two shirts, one pair of pants, cheap sandals, and one set of underwear. When my father saw what I had, he immediately bought clothes to fill my needs and, within a week of arriving in Florida, I finally, after almost three years had glasses which allowed me to see and to once again start school on a good basis.

Even though I did not live with my father (he parked me with my uncle and his wife), I was much happier than I had been in years. That is, until my uncle started making advances to me. I was only fourteen and was quite an innocent. I didn’t understand what he was doing until it was almost too late. I would hide from him and glued myself to my aunts side. She was the one that finally convinced my father to move me out of their home. She told him I was misbehaving but she told me she did not want my uncle to abuse me as he had her own little sister.

I lived with my father for the rest of the year. He worked a lot and I was alone much of the time but that was okay. Things started falling apart when he started dating a new woman. The lady was wonderful and I really liked her; however, her teenage children were into the drug culture of the time.

When they went on dates, they would leave me with the older siblings. They would take the money I had for dinner and movies and buy drugs with it. They told me that they would say it was my idea (since I was worldly and from California, even though I was adamantly against drugs all my life.) They were getting into LSD at the time and one of them had a really bad trip. He was still threatening to kill himself when they came home that night. I was finally able to tell my father what had been going on. He believed me but was really unhappy to have his relationship dismantled. He started being petty with me about many things.

One morning, on the way to school, I told him what I had learned in history about the start of World War I. He disagreed with everything that I said and was really angry about it. All I could say was that what I had told him is what the school book and teacher told me.

I don’t know if it was because I didn’t agree with him immediately or if there were other factors at work but the next thing I knew is that he had hit me square across the face. He hit so hard that my head bounced off the car window behind me with a sickening crack. I sat there with blood streaming down my face and he said that I was never to disagree with him again.

I knew, as I sat there, that I had found my new monster. The one that beat my mother would be the one that would then beat me senseless. When I got home that evening, my mother called me for the first time since I had left California. She wanted me to come home. My elder brother had stolen her car and she was alone with my brother and needed help.

I made the decision to go with the monster that I knew well rather than than to go with the new monster in my life. I tread very carefully and did not disagree with my father and, when the school year ended, I headed back to California. My father was rather pleased because he could, once again, have his relationship with the nice lady back.

My first day back was the day that my mother beat me almost senseless and then gave her blessing to my newly returned elder brother to do likewise (though being careful not to hit anywhere it would show.)

I didn’t expect anything to be different but it was. It was much, much worse.

It would be years before I would speak with my father again. He came for my brother’s funeral and managed to steal belonging from my mother at that time. More years would pass and he arrived one day with a new wife and two step-sisters in tow.

By then, I was married and had two children of my own. They met their grandfather for the first and last time. From what I understand, my father was a good father to his stepchildren, providing well for them. He had no provision, love, or care left for his own children.

Apart from my elder brother who died young, we were all able to put that work ethic we learned from our mother to good use. Even more was that my two sisters and I became Christians. I can’t speak for my younger brother because religion is not a discussion point for us.

After my son died, my father contacted me once more but by email to tell me how sorry he was. After struggling with what to say to him, I turned it over to God. I was told that I was supposed to honor my father regardless of what he was and what he did. I knew that it was a responsibility of mine. So I apologized to him for not honoring him over the years.

His response was that he was not honorable. He didn’t know how to be a father because his father and mother had had him as an anchor baby in the United States and then sent him home to Greece to be raised by his grandparents while they had fun without having to raise their children.

We made up our differences and I found out that he, too, had become a Christian. He still carried the same prejudices and such but he was a brother of mine in Christ as well as my earthly father.

I never spoke to him again and didn’t feel the need to do so. I had made my peace with him and was doing as God commanded me to do. I honored him though I didn’t love him. When he passed away several years ago, I didn’t go to his funeral. It would have made a mockery of my relationship with him. My elder sister and my younger brother both had developed relationships with him and that was enough.

I had a hard time understanding the relationship of a good father because I didn’t have that in my life. That is, until I became a Christian and learned that God is my father and he is the best father there is. He wants only the best for me but will allow me to make mistakes and to learn from them though that means that sometimes I have to suffer the repercussions of bad ideas, thoughts, and deeds.

I am so blessed to have Abba father as the daddy I can turn to. I do so increasing over the years and it is this part of my relationship with God is so important to me I can’t imagine life without it. It is the work of God in our lives that can change us from sinful creatures to those who walk in God’s ways and paths.

I’ve also been blessed to see a wonderful Christian father take care of his wife and children. My son-in-law is a young Christian man who is bringing his children up well. He is infinitely patient and loves to spend time with his kids. He showers them with love while at the same time making sure they are accountable for their misdeeds. It has been a delight in my life to see this for my daughter and grandchildren.

So, as Father’s Day approaches, we should honor our fathers whether they deserve it or not. Our heavenly Father is good and perfect and just. If your earthly father was like mine, look to the heavens as I did. If you do, you will find a Good Father who loves you so much he wants to spend eternity with you.

1 John 3: See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him.

I’ve recently been reading a blog about a woman who loves to stitch on fabric. She does cross stitch, painted canvas needlework and counted needlework. The blog is a history of her life, her stitching and of her oh-so sweet dog.

I started reading her blog from the beginning and discovered that she is also ill but with some illness that involves dialysis. I finally figured out how to “go back” in time on her blog to 2008 when she wasn’t ill.

She’s a very funny person and her occasional curse I can take with a grain of salt. I must admit I make sure to read through a page of her writing each day. At the rate that I am reading, I should be caught up in ten weeks. I think she is waiting for a transplant and hope that all is well with her once I am in real time.

I plan to contact her at that point and let her know how much I am enjoying her writing and her beautiful needlework. I must admit that reading is bittersweet as I know that at some point, the reality of her life will fall into chaos.

From the few days I read in real time, I can see that she is a fighter and is determined to make the best of her life though she is laid really low.

I can relate to her in many ways. I also love to stitch though needlepoint is well beyond the strength in my arms these days. Counted cross stitch is what I do (my own designs and those of others) as well as crochet, coloring, drawing, puzzles and reading. Her blog has re-awakened my desire to stitch and to create.

I’m also fighting an illness that dropped on me like a lead weight. So, while I can’t do many of the things I once did, I can still be creative in my own way.

Sadly, I don’t think I have the same attitude as this slightly younger woman. I am a fighter but I don’t find much in what has happened to be funny about it (well, except for gallows humor which my husband simply does not appreciate as much as I do.)

What I do have that she does not is the knowledge that God is in control. That he has allowed this challenge in my life to somehow work to the best for me.

This is a promise of God that I have had to cling to over and over again in life. Sometimes the wreck in life is of my own doing and sometimes it just appears out of the blue. However they arrive, trouble and sorrows feel the same. So much struggle and hardship. Though, along with that is a deepening of my relationship with God. Each time I seem to be out of control in my life, he steps in and takes control and rights my course.

I sometimes think it is because I seem to be hard of hearing when God is speaking softly to me. It is easy to ignore that small warning voice. It is so much easier to just do what I want without thinking of consequences.

Wouldn’t it be great if God would simply throw a great big red STOP sign in front of your face when you are going off the rails? I guess he could but then all we would learn to do is stop at a sign. We wouldn’t learn to rely on God and to look to him when making decisions and using our judgement and free will to make those choices. To learn, to grow, and to mature in the way that he is looking for in his children.

In a very real way, it is just like raising children. When they are young, you watch out for them like a hawk. As they get older, you have to let them learn to do things for themselves. I love when my two year old granddaughter tells me she wants “me do it” rather than have her Nana help. It means that she will learn and fail and learn and succeed and ultimately, be a responsible individual with the ability to make decisions and have skills to back them up.

My grandson is even more independent. He likes to play with his Lego blocks and create new and interesting structures. He’s four and is already so very creative. He will, sometimes, listen to instructions on how to make his buildings more stable and durable.

I am taking my lesson from my grandchildren. I like to do things myself but I need help, knowledge and instruction. I’m learning to talk with God throughout the day. When a challenge comes up, I ask him for help and wisdom. He is always willing to give me more wisdom in making decisions. He won’t make the decision for me (else what is free will for?) but he will give me what I need to know to understand the pros and cons of whatever is troubling me.

I speak to him directly, through Jesus and through the Holy Spirit. His answers are sometimes equally direct. Other times, I find my answers when I read the Bible or when I speak to other Christians. It’s amazing how many venues God will open for you so you can get the answers you are seeking.

So, while a great big red stop sign seems optimal; in reality, the soft voice of God is even more powerful. It is also filled with love and compassion.

I’m back on steroids to fight off pneumonia and, except for when there is cottonwood pollen, I am doing well. I am breathing deeper, walking further and faster though it is all relative. My walking rate right now is around 1 to 1.5 mph. I have a fairly aggressive exercise schedule because that is how I do things. If something works, lets try to amp it up and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, then back to where I was and see what next to do.

I’m up again throughout most nights but this time, I spend time with God and then he graciously allows me time to read (my first and most beloved hobby.) In the quiet and dark of the night, I can pull out my Kindle and have access to my books without waking my husband or feeling (oh so slightly) guilty for spending my time so indulgently.

While I am as physically ill as I have been in life, in many ways I can honestly say that my life has never been better. I look forward to each day and am thankful for my family and friends who are so encouraging. I want to thank all of those who have been in prayer for me. Please continue! God is simply not finished with me yet and I know that I need your prayers for whatever it is that he will set before me.

Also, if you would, please say a prayer for my cross-stitcher friend. That God would protect and heal her and, if she doesn’t hasn’t already accepted him, to knock at the door of her heart and let her know that all of his promises are for her if she will accept them for free.

Romans 8:28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

Life is hectic. It seems like everyday, more and more piles up and gets backtracked and sometimes, simply shoved away and forgotten. It is the “high priority” list that is most likely to be accomplished. That generally means that we are working at breakneck speed, thinking that somehow, once these tasks are done, then some of the less stressful jobs can be taken on.

Somehow, that rarely happens. Living at this type of stress level can play havoc with you physically, emotionally and spiritually as well. While I can’t speak for the actual physical detriment of high stress living, I know that I have suffered from physical and emotional issues which have been caused by stress.

My last job (apart from the businesses I have run since) was a high stress position that required an enormous amount of travel. I joked that I had made Platinum status just on my travel between Los Angeles and Silicone Valley.

But seriously, I did. That didn’t include travel to spots around the country and to other countries as well. Just the travel was enough to bring an enormous level of stress to my life, let alone that I was negotiating multi-million dollars software contracts for a well-known software company. At first, the travel was exciting but it became not only tedious but something I began to dread. Before I would even leave, I wanted to be home again. I was also exhausted and feeling defeated before I even left.

It came to a screeching halt for me when my son became ill and passed away. I no longer had any desire to leave my home base. I wanted nothing more than to spend my time with my family. When the travel began to ramp up again, I waited a full year before quitting my job just to be sure it wasn’t an over reaction to my son’s passing. When I told my doctor that I had quit, all he said was, “Thank God. That job was killing you.”

However, it didn’t take me long to build my stress level back up somewhat. I had started a successful company and used the enormous work it entailed as a way to hide and let my emotions work themselves out after the loss of my son. It took six years before my husband and I decided to shut it down and let others take over the market. I wasn’t dedicated to it and they were. Again, my levels of stress reduced.

We moved to Texas and, while my work stress was gone, suddenly I had physical stress due to many allergies that I did not previously know existed. The worst of these is from something called Mountain Cedar. We lived in the nature preserve area of Austin where these trees grew in wild abandon. The allergy is so bad, it is considered a toxin and it was for me. While in Austin, I started yet another company. This one was fun and the stress was not bad at all.

When it became unbearable after seven years (and my husband started exhibited symptoms), we moved to North Texas. While the Cedar fever ramped down, suddenly I was confronted by another range of trees and my own drive to accomplish more. While I shut down the last business so I could take care of my grandson (who had heart surgery at six weeks old), I turned instead to writing reviews.

I thought it would be fun to express my opinion about products I used. However, living in the stress lane meant I ramped it up way too much.

Between the allergies and the writing, I stopped taking care of myself. I had some physical issues which changed my diet dramatically and not for the better. After gall bladder surgery, I ended up with only a short list of about ten items I could eat. To give you an idea, two of those were soda crackers and graham crackers. No vegetables, no fruits, very little protein. I could tolerate some soft green salad mixes but only with vinegar.

Between stress and malnutrition diet, I was an accident waiting to happen. I was finally diagnosed with GERD and put on medicine which allowed me to eat once again after four years. It wasn’t that I ate too much, it was that I was eating at all that put twenty pounds on me within three months.

So there I was, overweight, stressed but finally able to eat some foods (not all, I still have a short list but it includes some good foods as well.) All it took was the administration of a drug that I can’t tolerate to almost kill me. When a doctor looks you in the eye and tells you to quickly get your affairs in order, you take it seriously. Especially if you are in the hospital and one step away from being put on a ventilator.

I was thankful to have that opportunity to reconnect with my younger brother. We had been living estranged for way too long. I could not bear the idea that he would have to live (after I died) thinking we should have made up our differences.

So, there I was, in the hospital while they ran every test they could think of and administered massive doses of medicines that might help. The thing is, I didn’t die. I got better (relatively.) I was able to go home after a nine day stay but on oxygen and weak as can be.

While we still are working through it all and figuring out what type of life we will live, the thing is that, for the first time in decades, my stress level is gone. I take each day as it comes. I don’t worry about tomorrow. I’m finding all the lower level tasks that would have been enjoyable now fill my day to the level I want and can cope with.

What changed wasn’t just my life’s circumstances. It wasn’t as if I had an epiphany about how to deal with life. Left to my own inclinations, I would probably ramp back up with stress and problems.

Instead, I looked to my Creator and started living the life He wanted for me. I look each day for what I am to do based on His will and His way. Somedays are busier than others but that works out okay. It is never too much or too hard. In some ways, I am being stretched in ways I never thought I would do. Those have turned out to be the most satisfactory work (other than raising my children) that I have every accomplished.

God wants the best for each of us. That begins with understanding the need for and the acceptance of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. Once we are aligned with God spiritually, He can do wonderful things in our lives despite the circumstances we find ourselves in.

That doesn’t mean life is a bed of roses. Sometimes, it is far from that. It means that He can give us the ability to live through trying times and still find the joy and peace and thankfulness that comes from Him and Him alone.

I’m so thankful to be alive and to be living a life that has meaning and purpose. I now give thanks in all my circumstances knowing that God has His plan for me and it is unfolding in beautiful and wonderful fashion. Each day is a gift that is not to be taken lightly. Each night is a time for reflection and rest. My life is full and I am so happy to be able to share it with you. My prayer is that you will find it helpful to you as you search for or walk with the Lord.

Matthew 11:28-30 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Breathing is something that most of us take for granted. I know that I did up until early November of 2017. Everything changed for me in what seemed like a blink of an eye.

It actually took a couple of weeks between being given a drug at the dentist (which was noted that I should never have) that caused bronchial spasms (along with aspirating water) for the pneumonia to take over and, when exposed to something I was allergic to, a severe allergic reaction to shut down and damage my lungs. I went from having good lungs to having advanced lung disease. Currently, I’m battling a second onset of pneumonia, this time caused by cottonwood pollen and perhaps soy and wheat, we’re not completely sure.

We’re still trying to work out a way for me to get around and somehow wean off oxygen but in the meantime, I am extremely thankful that both 24/7 and portable oxygen units are available for my use. While today has been challenging so far for me, I know that God has a plan for me and I will be following where he leads.

God breathed the breath of life into his creation, Adam. With that breath, the history of mankind was born. Can you image how beautiful and fantastic those first times were? The world made completely perfect, so perfect there was no need for rain. The ecosystem allowed plants and animals and man to grow and flourish.

The only problem was that Adam needed his mate. God created Eve from Adam. I’ve wondered why Adam was made from the elements but Eve from Adam. I’ve wondered if the entire history of perfect genetic code was in Adam and by separating Eve from him, the code was then available to both and thus every person since has been a derivative of the perfection that was made originally.

The setting was idyllic, the company superb. Can you image walking with God in the garden? Everything was available to them and Adam had been put in charge of the whole world.

There was just one rule. A small one. Simply, do not eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If they did, they would certainly die.

Adam and Eve were just like us, given free-will. Where they were different is that they were spiritually alive and communed with God. Even so, the temptation to break the one rule proved too much. With their sin of disobedience, death entered the world. Spiritual death was immediate and passed through to all generations. Physical death also came to be. God himself had to sacrifice animals to make clothes for his creation man to cover their nakedness.

Ever since, it seems like mankind has been trying to find a way live and flourish without having God be part of it. According to C.S. Lewis “All that we call human history – money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery – is the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.”

There has been one great exception and that is the history which is told in the Bible. According to Paul, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.” 2 Timothy 3:16.

The Bible is the revelation of God’s plan: the creation, the fall, how to live before a just God and, finally, the redemption of mankind by Jesus Christ. Just as God breathed the breath of life into us, he also breathed the breath of new life into the Scriptures. It is his love story to us. It tells us how and where we began and how and where we will be in eternity.

When faced with issues, I pray and I seek God in his Word. There is no issue too big for God to handle nor too small for God to have overlooked. His answer is complete.

God choose a nation to record his history. He created them from a single man, Abraham, who walked with God. It isn’t that the Israelites didn’t also try to turn from God time and time again; the Bible tells us over and over how they wanted to turn back to Egypt or had stopped listening to God and fell victim to conquerors. It’s that they turned back to God when things went wrong. And God was good and just and loving and forgave them and helped them.

Because of his great love, he sent his Son to save the human race from their sins. Without Jesus, we would all have been lost forever. The Old Testament is the history that shows the need for a savior and which also contains his redemptive promise and the prophesies which told us how to recognize the Savior when he appeared.

The New Testament is the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, his directions for life everlasting, the actions which began his church, the studies which give us instructions for our daily life and, finally, the view of what eternity with Jesus as King will be like.

All of this because God so loved us; he did not want to have eternity without us.

He is as just and good and loving today. He wants to forgive you, he already has. He wants to help you.

If you, like me, are facing issues today. Whether they are physical like mine, emotional or spiritual, now is the time to ask God for help. Sometimes we don’t know what we are burdened by. For Christians, the Holy Spirit knows and can translate your groans to prayers to God for what you need. For non-Christians, seeking God is a good thing. Ask him to reveal himself through the saving power of Jesus Christ. Ask for help with your problems as well.

The answer is there, in prayer and in the Bible. The thing is, we often think we know what the answer should be, only to discover we were totally wrong. Because we want something doesn’t mean that it is what is good and right for us. What is good and right is what God will provide.

As you breathe today, think about where the wonderful breath of life originally began. Think of all the beauty and perfection that will one day reign. Know that those who will be there will be there because they made the free-will choice to accept Jesus and to follow him. According to the psalmist, Psalms 150:6, Let everything that has breath praise the LORD. Praise the LORD.

For me, when I have days where I am struggling with breath, I know that one day I will breathe easily again. That hope and certainty allows me to look beyond the here and now. Eternity awaits and I hope to see you in heaven with me. With this breathe and with my last, I say, Praise the Lord.

Genesis 2:7 Then the LORD God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

I’ve always been interested in crafts and other hobbies but the hobby that has endured and remains my favorite is reading. Over the years, my tastes have changed and, currently, my favorite genre is mystery. I also like some suspense and thriller style action books.

I think that what appeals to me most, about mysteries, is that I feel as if I am part of the story. I can solve the whodunnit along with the current sleuth. Solving the crime involves looking for missing pieces and trying to put the jumble together for the solution. I feel a bit cheated if the mystery is solved in the last moment by a drop of information that no one could ever have foreseen.

Life is somewhat like a mystery too. We try to solve problems or questions every day. There are inherent questions that each of us struggle with, too. Who am I? Why am I here? What made me? Where will I go when I leave this life? Is there something more out there? It’s been that way throughout time, as each generation lives its life and is replaced by another. We all want to know if there is some higher purpose, if we are more that what is plainly seen by all.

I know, for myself, that the inherent me is the same as it has always been. I am the same person now that I have been my whole life. I have learned much and so my thoughts are more mature but I still know that the little girl I once was is still right here.

I have always wanted to solve things. One of my favorite things to do as a child (and still as an adult) is to put together a puzzle. In a sense, puzzles are also a mystery. You need to solve the disorder to complete it. There’s something extremely satisfying about taking a jumble and turning it into a picture that makes sense in a disorderly world.

Nothing frustrates me quite as much as working on a 1,000 piece puzzle only to find that, even though it was brand new, it is missing a piece. To me, even though I had put in all the effort to solve it to that point, my time was wasted and the result is useless.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could just pick up all the pieces of our lives and spend a few hours putting them together and making life whole and complete? The unfortunate thing is that there is an important piece missing in all of our lives. We are born in a sinful state and our spiritual place of communion with God is empty. Without that piece, there will be a semblance of order and completeness but there will be a hole where a necessary piece is empty.

It’s no wonder that the world is in disorder and is full of frustrated, confused and even hateful people. The piece that is missing is the one that shows true love. We think we know what love is but only Jesus was able and willing to show the world what true love really meant. Even though he was born and lived without sin, he was willing to take on the sins of everyone (yes, you too) and to take on their punishment and die in their place.

That is true love. That while each of us were filled with hate and disobedience, while we were ready to kill him ourselves rather than admit our own sin, he loved each of us (yes, you too) so much that he wanted to give us a way out of our confused and broken lives.

You see, Jesus is the missing piece of our lives puzzle. Through him, our connection with God will be complete and we will be made whole. Without him, all our efforts are wasted and the result is useless. With him as our savior, we are complete and the mystery is solved.

Once the connection with God is made, the answers to the questions we all ask are answered.

Who am I? I am a beloved child of God. So special and dear to him, he knows how many hairs I have on my head.

Why am I here? To show God’s love to others and to show myself pleasing to my Creator and to do the tasks that he sets before me.

What made me? God made me. He says he created my inmost being; and knit me together in my mother’s womb

Where will I go when I leave this life? I will spend eternity in heaven with other Christ-followers glorifying God.

Is there something more out there? Yes, there is much “out there”. Heaven and Hell. A place of eternal peace, love and fellowship with God and a place of eternal damnation cut off from God. Eternity with our Creator or an agonizing and timeless eternity separation from God and of pain and suffering.

If you are looking at your life and wondering where the missing piece is, you can find it at last. If you are trying to solve the mysteries of life, the clues that make the whodunnit of creation are here right in front of you.

God wants to have a relationship with you. He wants to show you the love he holds for you. He created everything and everyone but he wants you, especially, to find fellowship with him.

Jesus says that he stands at the door of our hearts and knocks. If you ask him in, he will come in forevermore. He will put the pieces of life back together. Life won’t be perfect but you will have peace. Perfection awaits for you in heaven. Here, you have to live life with all of its ups and downs. But you don’t have to live it all alone. You don’t have to struggle with questions of why and how and where.

Asking Jesus to take control of you life is simple. He doesn’t require extraordinary efforts. He doesn’t want you to earn it. He wants to give it to you for free. Right where you are, no matter how broken you are, no matter what awful things you have done or thought. He wants to help you make sense of your life.

All you have to do is tell God that you know that you are a sinner, that you have not lived a perfect life. Acknowledge that Jesus, as the Son of God, did live a sinless life and that he went to the cross to carry your sins. That he died for you and rose again to new life. That he is your Savior by taking your punishment and that you want to share with him in his new and eternal life. Ask him to come live in your heart and to guide through all the days to come.

That’s it. That’s all. With that, your missing piece is found. You connection to God is made whole. Your mysteries are solved. Your life will now make sense and, as each day passes, you will come to rely more and more on God to hold your hand and lead your way.

Romans 10: 9-13 If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved. As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.” For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile — the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”

Life is precious and it goes by so quickly. I remember when I was little, it seemed as if time barely moved. I couldn’t wait to be older and to be able to do whatever I wanted (oh, for the innocence of youth!) I had two older sisters, an older brother and a younger brother. While we were not a close knit group, when we were young children, we had a camaraderie that worked well for us.

I was the fourth of the five and had a gap of five years between myself and my little brother. I remember when he came home from the hospital. I was so entranced by him. I wanted to touch his hands and feet and to kiss his little cheek. I was allowed to hold him on my lap only when my mother was present. It was so thrilling and wonderful to have such a lovely little one to hold and love.

When he was six months old, we moved from Santa Monica, CA to Lancaster. At that time, Lancaster was a really small desert community that was just at its beginning. My mother was home (having been laid off from her job) and my father worked back at the shore. He stayed there during the week and would come to visit only on the weekends (and not everyone at that.)

It was a wonderful and peaceful time. You see, my father physically abused my mother. I can remember, all too clearly, him knocking her down and unconscious. I remember how frightening it was and how I wanted to hurt him for hurting her. I felt so little and helpless. I thought if I were a big girl, I could stop it.

So, the year we spent in Lancaster was calm and serene compared to our life before. My best playmate was my little brother. I was in kindergarten in the morning and would rush home after half-day to spend the rest of the time with him and my mother. We planted a garden together, had a dog and my brother and I would bang pots and pans and play peek-a-boo.

My oldest sister was a wonderful girl. She was more like a mother to me, even though she was only 7 years older. She would help me with my problems, quiet my fears and keep my middle sister from picking on me. I shared a room with the middle sister and when she wasn’t pleased with me, she would boot me out of the bed that we shared. I knew that my oldest sister would let me sleep in her room across the foot of her twin size bed.

My older brother was a good brother at that time. It would be years before he became enmeshed in the drug culture of the time. In the earlier days, he would play catch with me and would show me all the cool things he was learning how to do. I was pretty much entranced by all of it.

My middle sister was the cool one. She was always trying to be on trend, which was difficult because we didn’t have much money. After my parents split up and my father left the state rather than pay child support, we were actually fairly poor. Even so, my sister could always find a way to make almost nothing look wonderful, desirable and cool. I remember ironing her hair to get it straight and helping zip her into way too small a size of shorts. Even though she and I had our squabbles, when I was a child, I wanted to be like her.

So, our life was good that year. We moved back to Santa Monica the next year. I don’t know why, I didn’t ask questions back then, I just let life happen to me. We left behind the beautiful house and the dog and moved back into a three bedroom apartment with my parents in one room, my brothers in another and my sisters and I in the third one.

Sadly, the abuse began again in earnest. My father didn’t just shove her around, he actively hit her with fists and certainly slapped her often enough. My mother had five kids, worked a full time job and had to also be his wife. I know it had to be too much for her. Her outlet, unfortunately, was in abusing her children.

I don’t like to think about the abuse. It got worse when my parents split up and she was left with four kids. My oldest sister had just married, my older brother and middle sister were involved in the drug scene and my younger brother was only a little boy. So, a lot of the abuse fell on me.

I remember reading a book that talked about a whipping boy and I realized that I was that to my mother. She could (and did) say vile and hurtful things. She could (and did) take all of her frustrations out on me. I would not object, I would not cry, I would not beg her to stop. My middle sister told me to do so because it would make her stop. I found out later that my mother had tried the same abuse with her and it stopped when my sister threatened to hit her back.

I couldn’t do that. I remembered reading in the Bible (back when I was in Sunday School years before), that we had to honor our mother. So, no matter what, I would take it without complaint.

There were so many times, it seems countless looking back. One time in particular does stand out. It was when she repeatedly bashed the back of my skull against a porcelain clad sink until it cracked the surface of the porcelain. It so angered her that she beat me almost senseless and then cut off my hair so I would look unattractive. My older brother was there and I remember her telling him that it was important to never hit me in the face where others would see the bruises. I remember wondering why she would say that to him.

It became clear soon when I found out that she had ordained him to punish me because he was stronger and she could not hit me hard enough. Not that she stopped, she just added him in as well. That started an even worse period in my life that will be, God willing, another entry in this blog. However, it is not for now.

When I was finally old enough, at eighteen, a full year out of high school for me, I got a job as a waitress and moved out, hoping to never return again. It turned out that when my mother had cancer, I ended up moving back in with her for a year so I could pay living expenses and to keep her from returning back to live in the projects with my little brother. I could not bear for him to live in that place. Once she was on her feet again, she moved to Oregon and I moved closer to work.

I met and married my first husband and had three children. As our marriage fell apart, I found myself punishing my children when I was angry at him. I was so frightened that I would turn into the abuser my mother had been. I asked God to help me and he led me to a therapist. I was able to talk about my fears and issues, which unsurprisingly, were of both my parents more so than my ex-husband. She gave me a number to call if I felt like harming my children, told me that she didn’t believe I would and that what I had done so far was not abusive. I knew in my heart and told her that any time you spank a child because you are angry at someone else, it is abuse.

I went home with the number in my purse, told the children I needed their help. If I said, go to your room, no back talk, just do it. Mommy was mad at someone else and needed quiet time. I then prayed and asked God to help me. From that day on, I never had a problem again. My elder daughter and son told me my younger one could have used a few spankings but since I felt like I could not control myself, it could not happen.

My elder daughter now has two children of her own. She and her husband are raising them wonderfully. They are Christians and their children go to church along with them pretty much every week. Such beautiful children and such loving parents.

I’m sure my younger daughter, if she someday has children, will be a good mother as well. I’ve told them both, please be a better mother than I was. I was better than my mother but not good enough. My one regret in life is that I could have raised my children better and enjoyed life with them more.

In later years, my mother and I were able to somewhat mend our differences. It was after she also became a Christian. While we were never close, we had reconciled by the time she passed away. While she was not a good mother to me, she was a wonderful and loving grandmother to all of my children. My daughters’ memories of her are beautiful and deservedly so. I honored my mother during the bad times and I honored her during the better times. I know that one day we will meet in heaven again and love each other the way we should have done so during this life.

If you had a wonderful mother, you are really blessed. You should thank God for it every day and not just on Mother’s Day. If you, like me, had a mother who was not wonderful and in some cases much less than that, remember, if you cry out to God and with His help and guidance, you can be a better parent. You can stop whatever abusive behavior that you may have learned. You can strive to be the mother that God called us to honor. The one that your children will count as a blessing in their lives.

Proverbs 31:25-31 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

These days, when I wake up each morning, I make a conscience decision to follow Jesus. There are many distractions that can alter my course throughout the day, so every morning, it is time to right myself and look to God to provide His plan for me.

It hasn’t always been that way for me. I would allow other things, worries and temptations, to take my focus and before I knew it, months and even years would pass without my having given thought to where my walk with God was to take me. I was a Christian and I would certainly pray from time to time, but getting right down to what God wanted versus what I wanted was something I rarely did.

I became a born-again Christian at age 18. While I would love to say I have lived for God ever since, that would be a lie. For decades, I lived for my family and, mostly, for myself. It wasn’t as if I was rushing headlong into destruction. I was gliding towards it, allowing myself to slowly but surely justify things of the world that I knew (in my heart of hearts) were wrong not only for me as a Christian, but for individuals, societies, countries and the world. In other words, sin. Anything that doesn’t measure up to the perfection of God, no matter how big or how small, is a sin.

Every once in a while, something in my life would jolt me back to an awareness of the gift Jesus had given me and that I needed to walk a better Christian life. And so, for a season, I would until I started to forget once again.

It was by the grace of God that I insisted that my children attend a Christian school for many years. When that avenue closed for us, the children started attending Youth Group at a local church. With this, my children were exposed to, confronted with, and saved by the sacrifice and love of Jesus Christ.

For myself, I moved from gliding into sin to embracing it with open arms. Still in the back of my mind, I could hear the Holy Spirit telling me to back off and come back to where I belonged. On several occasions, I willfully decided to do what I wanted to do regardless of the consequences. And there were consequences.

During the time my life was spiraling out of control, I met my now husband. He, like I, was a backsliding Christian. It seemed like we were made for one another, though Christianity seemed to be not so high on either of our lists. We married and life was generally good. We both were giving in to desires of greed in getting whatever we wanted without saving and planning for the future. Our kids were fairly happy but there was something missing in our lives.

I remember my son came home from a summer session with his Youth Group and was so excited to tell us that he had dedicated his life to Jesus. He was ready to do whatever was asked of him. I’m sorry to say that I listened, brushed it off with something like “that sounds good” and completely forgot about it.

That is until about a year later when he became ill. Once we knew what was wrong with him and that the odds were heavily stacked against him, my only thought and question to him was, “Are you saved?”

It seems weird to me now that I didn’t already know this about my three children but I did know that it was the most important thing to find out at the time. My son reminded me that he was and that God was now using him as he had offered.

His illness and death brought me back to the Lord in a mighty way. I was broken in a way that could never be repaired and, apart from my family, there was no solace for me anywhere but with God. So I turned back to Him.

Walking the Christian walk takes work. It is like working a muscle. If you stop exercising and eating properly, your muscle will lose definition and get loose and useless. You will still have the muscle but it won’t be good for much.

Being an effective Christian means exercising your faith by doing God’s will and eating right is consuming the Word of God, the Holy Bible. If you aren’t doing these, then your Christianity will slowly become fairly useless in God’s plan for your life.

If you are doing one or the other, you will either be effective in your works but won’t grow in your walk without being nurtured in the Word or you will have great understanding of the Word but won’t be doing the mission Jesus left us which is to preach the gospel throughout the world.

Even after all that we went through with my son and my (and my husband’s) reawakening to Christ, it was still easy to let things of the world slowly take over.

I was drifting into a state where the good opinion of others was something I sought more than I sought my Father. What was worse is my husband, in an effort to help me, began to care about this as well. We had started making efforts to change our lives but those efforts were not Christ centered and were fairly ineffective.

We Christians all go through this cycle, some to a greater degree (like myself) and some to a lesser degree. It has to do with the distractions and temptations of the world. It’s so easy to fall back into an on-going sinful state. It’s also so easy, with the Internet, to bring sin right into your home.

This time, it was my illness that brought our lives to a halt and made us realize that our walk with Christ had, once again, fallen by the wayside and was being trampled.

It was during the first few weeks of my illness that I was confronted by the Holy Spirit. I was told that I needed to do the work that God had set forward for me. Though it was up to me, with the help of both the new church we started attending online and my husband, to figure out what that work was and when and where to start (here and now was pretty much the answer to that one.)

While I’m still on the mend and will see what life is going to be in the future, I’m very happy with where and what our lives have become. We’ve found a great church on-line, they’ve created their first on-line Bible study (just when I needed it), my husband and I are praying together often throughout the day, and we are both reading our Bibles in a set plan for the year.

More than that, I am finally doing what God has asked me to do. I begin to feel like I am finally growing as a Christian. It reminds me of the vegetable garden I love to grow each year. I sow the seeds, water them, pull weeds and feed them. Eventually, the plants grow and begin to blossom and bear their fruit for me to eat. From each seed, many meals can be enhanced. With enough seeds, banquets can be made.

I think of myself as a single seed that is finally sprouting. The thorns which have choked me for decades have finally been pushed aside. As I continue to grow and reach towards the Son, I am fed and nurtured by the Word of God. My prayer is that someday soon the fruit of the Spirit that is finally beginning to show in my life will be pleasing to my Father.

Matthew 13:18-23 “Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.