My Angel

This morning a friend wrote on her facebook page that her cousin went home to heaven. Her words, not mine. She wrote about how much she loved this cousin, and how Donna had touched her life so deeply. She shared how Donna was always so excited to see her, and hug her and just pour out love to her. My friend recently moved far away from her family, and was very sad at not being able to spend time with her cousin at the end of her life. "My angel", she called her. Donna had special needs; I don't know what they were, but my friend wrote about this in a beautiful tribute to her.
 Another friend of mine, who I wrote about a few months ago, also had special friends. She also called them her angels. "My angel", she said about the first young man that impacted her life.  (please see  MARIA'S ANGELS 9-23-12)
I was thinking about this today. Two women who completely love special needs people. They love them without reserve. They both treat Adam the same way, as someone who is lovable and wonderful. And they call him "my angel". Both are good friends to us, and I appreciate them.
I see the heart of God in them. I wish everyone felt and acted the same as these two women do.
Unfortunately, this isn't so.
 I was reading on a page yesterday about a young man with Down syndrome who died tragically at the hands of some overly zealous police officers when he refused to leave a movie theater when the film ended. He wanted to watch it again. I don't know how much of the story is true, but it is terribly sad. The thing that's just as sad is reading the comments on the post. The ignorance of some of the writers there is beyond belief, especially a few from those who claim to work with the special needs population. Excusing the behavior of the young man because of his disabilty as some of them did is wrong, but so is the expectation that he could behave exactly the same as typically developed adults behave. Needed intervention did not happen, and he died. The remarks that I found the most offensive came from a self described caregiver...she called those in her care her "tards". She claims that she loves her "tards" and wouldn't have let that happen to any of them. Really? She loves them? Then where is the respect for those she claims to love? Using the word "tards" as a term of endearment is disgraceful and disrespectful. What a contrast to my friends who call them angels!

The word "retard" is a pet peeve of mine. It makes my skin crawl when I hear someone say that. When I mention it, people say that isn't what they meant, that they're not making comparisons to people with developmental disabilities. And I always say "Really? That's not what you meant? Then what did you mean?" There really isn't a satisfactory answer to my question, because that's exactly what's being said. The word retard comes from "mentally retarded", an old classification that is slowly passing from usage. "Devopmentally disabled" is one of the newer and less offensive terms. I think the classification had to be changed specifically because "retard" has become such a derogatory way of speaking, and is of course, intended as an insult.
One of the hardest things for the family of someone with disabilities is to trust that there will be someone to love and take care of their special person when the family can no longer attend to their needs, especially when that person can't communicate and tell what happens to them or around them. To trust that they won't be hurt or mistreated by their "caregivers". When I read posts like I read yesterday, it makes me more determined than ever to keep Adam home with us and never let him live in a group home.That young man's family trusted his caregiver to protect him, and he died. Even though I know there are some who love, and love well, my fear is that there are far more who just work with in this field because they couldn't find anything else, or because they see them as easy prey.
I hope that as time goes by and people learn that those with disablilities are just like everyone else, with feelings and the ability to love and bless others, that things will change. I hope there will be a screening process that keeps predators and cruel and ignorant people out of the field as care providers. And I hope that more people who see them as angels will be drawn to work with and care for our wonderful family members. My heartfelt thanks go out today and always for those who love our children, and love well. God bless you. He put His love in your hearts and you pour it  out with no holding back. You are a treasure.

here is a link to the story of the young man who died . the above picture is not him; this is our Adam.

 ): http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/autopsy-finds-that-md-man-with-down-syndrome-died-of-asphyxia-while-in-police-custody/2013/02/15/4d752304-77ab-11e2-b102-948929030e64_story.html



 http://www.dropbox-movie.com/trailer.html this is a link to a movie trailer about a man who rescues unwanted, disabled babies! please watch.



 

MORTIMER: a children's story

In a little town, on a hill far away, there lived a family of birds. They were all, every one of them,  a lovely shade of blue, with big, green eyes. And they were happy. One day, the mommy bird knew, just knew, that she wanted just one more baby bird. She knew, just knew, thet her family wouldn't be complete without just one more baby. So she started to build her nest just a little bit bigger. The family began to get excited when they saw her working hard to get ready for the new baby, and they all, every one of them, wanted to help.
All the little bird brothers and sisters were flapping around and asking, "What can I do? What can I do? I want to help." So the mommy bird gave each one, every little one of them, their very own job to do.
One  brother helped to gather sticks for the nest. One sister helped by shaking out the blankets for the new baby. Another gathered leaves to line the nest, and another gathered soft dandelion seeds to place on top of the leaves to make the nest even softer. And when all, every little thing, was done, it was time to lay the egg for the new baby bird.
It had been a busy, very busy day for the family, so after the daddy bird came home with dinner, they all ate together and then the little birds went to bed. The mommy bird settled into the new, soft nest and waited for her baby egg. The daddy bird flew back and forth and back and forth, and watched over his family. And he waited, just waited for the new egg.
The next morning the new egg was there! Everybirdy was so excited! But they had to wait a little bit longer for the baby to hatch. The mommy bird sat on the egg, and when she was tired or needed to eat, the daddy bird took a turn to sit on the egg and keep it warm. After a few days, they began to hear sounds coming from the egg, and they knew, just knew, that it was time for the baby to hatch. How wonderful! This day was going to be the baby's Hatchday!
Before too long, the egg cracked. It cracked and cracked some more, and the little bird inside began to stretch itself and push itself, and suddenly, out popped a little bird with RED feathers and GREY eyes!
OH MY GOODNESS! That family was so surprised! There had NEVER before been a red bird with grey eyes in their family.....what would they do? How would they take care of this different baby? What would everybirdy in the town think?
"Well", said the mommy bird, "This is our baby, and we'll love him and learn about him, and it doesn't really matter what everybirdy in town thinks. He's our baby, and we love him just the way he is." But in her heart, she was very sad that her baby was different. She was afraid that other birds wouldn't like him, and that he wouldn't have any friends.
Mortimer, however, didn't know that his family was worried about him.He didn't know he was different. He just knew he was hungry. So he peeped and he cheeped, and the mommy bird was kept very busy feeding him and taking care of him. Before long, he was jumping out of the nest. The mommy bird kept putting him back in the nest to keep him warm and safe, but he would jump out of the nest again. She was getting tired. Finally, she couldn't keep him in the nest any longer, and it was time to teach him to find worms and bugs for himself. So she took him outside.

Mortimer was so happy to be outside! What a big wonderful world it was! There was so much to see and so much to do! He flipped and flapped his wings and ran around and around trying to see and touch all the flowers and bugs and grass and ...other birds. Other birds? Yes, the other birds came over to see this new bird with RED feathers and GREY eyes. And some of them were not very nice. They STARED at Mortimer. They POINTED at Mortimer. They whispered to each other about Mortimer. And they flew away. Mortimer didn't understand this. He wanted, really wanted, to get to know the other birds. He was very sad. His mommy bird was sad. His brothers and sisters and daddy were sad too. BUT.... there was one bird that didn't STARE. She didn't POINT. She didn't whisper to anybirdy. And she didn't fly away. She flew right up to Mortimer and said "HI!"  Mortimer said "HI!" right back to her. She said, "I never saw RED feathers before. I think you're beautiful!" Mortimer smiled. His mommy smiled. His daddy and brothers and sisters smiled.
It was turning out to be a good, a very good day.
The moral of the story is "When everybirdy else is afraid, you don't have to be. It only takes one  to make a difference for somebirdy else."

 

HURRICANES

Last year it was hurricane Irene. This year, hurricane Sandy is on the way. Last year, I thought often of my friend Irene, who had died of cancer a few years before. This year, I'm reminded of hurricane Gloria and the damage to Long Island. Trees were down everywhere, power outages went on for weeks for some residents, houses and cars were damaged and some were lost. I don't remember the count of lives lost, but I believe it was small.  We lost power for ten days. It was 1985, and the weather was still warm, so although it was challenging, it wasn't too bad. We had fun camping out in the living room during the storm, and going outside in the wonderfully fresh air as the eye of the storm passed over our house. As far as damages, we lost ten trees on our property and in our woods out back, but our house was completely spared. We had plenty of wood for our Pillsbury stove for a long time after that, and we shared some of it with friends. How I wish we still had the wood burner! We took it out when we remodeled the house and moverd to Florida for a year. We thought the house would sell and we'd be Floridians forever. God had other plans for us. But that's a story for another day.

This approaching storm feels like it has the capacity to be another Gloria for Long Island. We've stocked up on essentials and I'm cooking ahead of time for things that I won't be able to make if we lose power for a few days. Cooked meat holds up well in ice chests and makes great sandwiches. I have a gas stove, so I'll have my cooktop, but not the oven as it's electric start. Matches work just fine for lighting burners that are electric start, but are not a possibility for ovens. We have propane for the grill, batteries for the flashlights, candles and oil lamps for lighting. Prayers going up for the storm to downgrade and become smaller; it's four hundred miles wide at this time, and moving at ten miles per hour. Flooding is a serious concern in this storm, as it was in Irene. My family upstate is still in the recovery process from all that they lost last year.

Are you ready? Are you listening? Warnings are all over the different forms of media. For those who can hear Him, God is warning too. Don't get caught short; PREPARE. Don't be afraid, be ready.

Love and peace to you today. I'll check back with you soon.

Cat Tail

The other day, a friend posted a picture of her calico cat. In case you don't  know, calico cats are a mix of black, white and orange patches of fur. They are almost exclusively female; rarely, a male is born with that coloring.
Years ago, when my daughters were little. one such beauty came into our lives. This little cat was showing up at the bus stop every day for about a week, and the kids were all saving bits of food from their lunches and feeding her when they got home in the afternoon. One evening, our neighbor came knocking at the back door, cat in hand, asking me to please take her in as a bad winter storm was expected and she was afraid the cat would freeze to death. She doesn't like cats, but she has a tender heart. As much as I wanted to take the cat in, I said no. We had a dog that HATED cats, and I was afraid she'd kill it. My neighbor persisted, pleading for her life. I really wanted her. Calicos are my favorites when it comes to female cats. I knew it would be trouble, not only with the dog, but with my husband. He was not a fan at all. He didn't grow up with pets, and having a dog was enough in his opinion.
I brought the cat in and shut her in the bathroom. I warned the girls to not open the bathroom door without my help. They were only too happy to comply. They wanted the cat too.
Paul came home and I will not write what his response was to the situation. He finally said, "If you can get the dog to accept it, you can keep it." He was on pretty solid ground for getting rid of it, as we had tried in the past to have kittens, and had to give them up.
So, over the next three weeks, the cat lived in the bathroom. I prayed and asked the Lord to make a way for it to all work out. For the first week, whenever I put the dog outside, I let the cat roam around the house. She would investigate and she'd get in my lap and purr. Then I'd put her back into the bathroom and let the dog back inside. She would go all over the house and smell every place the cat touched, and then spend the rest of the day with her nose to the crack under the door, sniffing and snuffling as hard as she could, and guarding just in case the invader made an appearance on her side of the barrier.
The next week, I would hold onto the dog's collar, and let the cat out of the bathroom. I held on tight and prayed as we followed the cat around the house. The dog would stiffen up and bristle her fur, and follow the cat everywhere. The cat ignored her.
The third week, I decided it was time to let go of the dog and see what would happen. It was absolutely amazing!. I held the dog, let the cat out of the bathroom, and then let go of the dog. She followed the cat with her nose to its tail, all over the house. The cat never even looked at her! I couldn't believe it. If you know anything about cats, you know they are not too inclined to let a strange dog get familiar with them and have nothing to say about it. My husband came home from work and was totally dismayed that he had lost the battle over having another animal in the house.
Alpha, the calico cat, lived to be twenty years old. She was the first cat I had after being married. My husband grew to love her too. The girls adored her.

 We always had cats when I was growing up. But...mine had a pattern of suddenly disappearing. When I was ten years old, I went to visit a cousin. When I came home, my cat and my sister's cat had gone to live at my grandmother's farm. In their place, my parents kept one of their kittens, a black and white male. I named him  Irving. They tried really hard to convince me to name him something else. I wouldn't budge. I later learned that it was my father's middle name, and he hated it. I secretly loved that. I was very angry over losing my friend. She disappeared after being sent to the farm. My sister's cat didn't. Irving got sick a few years later and died. My father told me he had cancer; he was hit by a car shortly thereafter. Dad brought him home and buried him. Years later, after having cats with health issues, I realized that it was an abcess,  probably from fighting over breeding rights. Our cats weren't neutered.( Most people didn't bother with that back then.) My parents  weren't much for vet care. With five kids, they probably couldn't afford it.
My sister's dog died around the same time, and they got her another one. I was told I couldn't have another cat. I couldn't understand that and made a federal case out of it, which was a real stretch for me: you didn't disagree with my father, no matter what. Eventually, a long-haired orange female kitten came into my life, and my heart was happy again.
A few years later, she had some skin and digestive issues, and one day when I was in school, she disappeared. My father got rid of her. They never told me what happened to her, but I think they had her put to sleep. My heart was broken once again. They kept three of her kittens, but it wasn't the same.
Having Alpha the lovely calico for so long brought such healing to my heart. She was mine and nobody took her away from me. When she got very old, and developed a fast growing tumor in her liver, I made the difficult decison to put her to sleep. She had lost her hearing several years before and was losing her eyesight. The tumor was inoperable. She had a hard time getting into a comfortable postion, even to sleep, which she did most of the time. I cried like a baby at the vet and wore my sunglasses to hide it. I brought her home and we buried her in her favorite flower bed in the back yard. I was sad for a long time.
Some time after her death, I had a growing realisation of just how much my heavenly Father loves me. I saw His hand in my life with the cat so clearly. He brought her to my doorstep that freezing winter night, worked things out between her and the dog, and kept her healthy for twenty years. She was a gift to heal the wound in my heart over all the other lost kitties. The anger at my dad over them was released and healed. I forgave him. (But I still laugh over Irving; I can't help it) God stopped by and showed me that He is in the little things that are really big things, and that a daughter's heart is important to Him. He spoke to me and told me so. I learned that He can be trusted to keep my heart safe.
Thank you, Erinn, for posting the picture of your baby. She reminds me so much of mine. I hope you get to enjoy her for twenty years. Thanks friends for stopping by. I appreciate you.

 

MARIA'S ANGELS

 Ginnie, some of my memories come back alive after reading your post “Broken…..or Not”. The Lord wants me to share them. I love the way God stops by you and you use it to talk to my heart,to stir up my memories,and teach me and challenge my life.

 I was ten years old when on my street in a small village where I grew up, I saw a young man. I did not know who he was; he was attending a wake at the house next to mine, and he was crying; his image captured me and it got stuck in my mind. I overheard the adults saying that he used to go everyones' funeral. Later that day they explained to me that he was born with special needs. At the time there was nothing for children with special needs; families kept them hidden inside their home. In my young mind I convinced myself that he was an angel from God and he was there to help us “normal ones”. I knew right then that I had to love him with all my heart. God was in him and he was my way to be closer to God.  His name was Gino. He could not speak,but every time I saw him I smiled and he smiled back and in his way he was telling me “ciao”. Each time, my heart warmed up and was filled with joy.

When I went to high school I commuted to the big city. I met more angels and started to love them more and more. I remember telling the Lord how blessed they were; “Lord I can see You in them… I can see your love in them..  Instead I had to work so hard to be with You, to see You, to hear from You.”

 

In 2007 here in the U. S. I was looking for a home church; I went to visit a church few minutes away from my home. After the service people were walking to the front to get prayers. In there
I saw my angel; a lady was helping him to walk after he went for prayers. He was on his way back to his seat. My eyes met with her eyes and we smiled to each other. I felt all the Lords love, grace, kindness, and compassion. The Lord was confirming that I had just found my new home church and He was using my angel to touch my life and other people's lives.

 

That Angel was Adam with you Ginnie, both made a difference in my spiritual life. Now your new ministry In His Image is blowing me away. I’m praying the Lord to use me for his purpose..

Thank you for asking me to write this. It was a blessing J

 

Maria also told me that she feels that Gino was expressing the grief of the families as he would sit weeping for those he never even knew.

 

Thank you Maria. Your story is so beautiful and blesses me deeply. The Lord is using you already.

Broken...or Not?

I was listening to the Lord the other day..it was His turn to talk. ;0} I was talking with Him about Adam and I don't remember exactly what I had been saying to Him, but His answer was; "You want to fix him, but did I say he was broken?"
That stopped me where I was. I didn't realize that I thought this way. I pray for Adam all the time, but realizing that I think he's broken revealed a great deal to me.
As I pursue a new direction in ministry for people with special needs, my understanding of how the Father sees them has deepened. I have always known that He loves them just the way they are, and that they are created in His image and likeness. I've come to understand that they are created with gifts and abilities from Him that we often don't see. One of these is their ability to know and understand God in ways that go beyond what I know. I see this in Adam.
So what did God mean in what He said to me? Did He mean that I shouldn't pray for Adam to be healed? NO. Healing is the children's bread (see Matthew 15:21-28) The point is that Adam isn't broken just because he's in need of healing. The Father sees him as whole. I need to see him the same way.
In Adam's spirit, he is complete. He knows and loves God. On the outside, he has many needs, but he is not broken. He is just in need. As I continue to pursue the Lord in this awareness, I know He'll teach me more. For now, I've settled inside as I continue to pray for him.

When a child is born with special needs, or becomes ill and then develops disabilities, the family's dreams for the child are crushed. They know he or she will never become the doctor, lawyer, teacher or parent that they were thinking about. Perhaps their child will never speak, walk or fully know them.There may be life long needs for medical interventions or surgery. There are many degrees of disability, and many depths of pain for the family. Our family knows this well, and each one of us deals with it in our own way. I wrote a bit about that recently.(Just One Of Those Days) It had to do with milestones that Adam will never reach. Like driving, or dating, or just hanging out with friends. But it's also his need for help with everyday living skills. Our desire is for him to be more independant, and over time, he will become more so, but he will always need someone to help him. He will never live on his own. I feel badly for him about that, but he doesn't seem to care. He likes it here. :0}

But what was my point?....oh yes, broken or not broken. When our dreams for Adam came crashing down, I guess I saw him as having gotten broken, because as far as we know, he was not disabled when he was born. He became seriously ill, and everything changed. Personally, I felt like we lost who he was supposed to be. I felt that he was cheated out of becoming everything he was meant to become. And our family was too. God stopped by the other day and gave me a reality check. Adam is not broken. He's fine the way he is. God knows him and he knows God. I have many typically developed friends and family whom I can't say the same about. It's a matter of perspectives, isn't it?
I like the Father's perspective on this subject much better than my own.

Have a great day and enjoy all the blessings in your life. Be thankful for all that you have. Love the ones around you to the fullest that you're able. They need that and so do you. Thanks for visiting here again. I hope you make a return trip soon.

A Very Small Reflection

Today, we remember that 1st September 11th that makes us realize that no one is invulnerable. We were shocked at just how vulnerable our country really was. It's not a day for political posturing, it's a day to remember those who lost their lives in an unprovoked attack. To remember those innocent victims, and to pray for their families. It's a day to be thankful for our military and security organizations, who lay down their lives for us and protect us every day. We don't often see them, but they are there.
I'm so thankful for all that I have, and for all those who are in my life. 9-11-01 made me realize how blessed I truly am. If you've ever been in my heart, you're still there. If I haven't met you yet, there's still plenty of room for more.
Spend time today to be thankful for your life, your family and your friends. And for the place where you live. Many of us have so much more than the many who will never own a computer and be able to read this post. May God bless us all today.

TROLLING

I am learning something new all the time. It's hard to keep up with the new expressions that are in common use. Today I learned about "trolling". It's a useless behavior that apparantly is becoming popular online.
Someone sent me a petition to sign to get rid of a Facebook page. It's called "cancer is funny cause people die". Now, I think it's juvenile and stupid, but even as a cancer survivor, it doesn't upset me. I did report the page and I do hope it gets taken down, because it really is going to be so hurtful to so many who might see it. I won't be forwarding the request, because I have friends on Facebook who have dealt with or are dealing with cancer in one form or another, in themselves or a family member.

Any way, "trolling", for the uneducated like myself, is putting something nasty out on the internet, like a Facebook page, just for the fun of seeing how upset and angry people will get over what you posted. And I'll tell you, the comments on the one page I looked at were worse than the page itself. The page owner doesn't  say anything , only the title of the page, and people are writing horrible, nasty and filthy comments.
One or two mention the author's desire to provoke wrath, and  there is where I learned the concept of trolling.
But really, what the heck is wrong with people? Are they so bored that they have to do something so stupid?
This speaks to me of a life that is so lost.Someone who's at a dead end. I can't imagine any reason for such awful behavior. Anyone who would do this must have had a miserable upbringing.
Perhaps if people would wise up and ignore these foolish ones, the foolishness would go away. Commenting is what they want; it wouldn't be any fun for them if no one said anything. 
They're just throwing out the bait and waiting for the unsuspecting to take it. And they sit back and have a good laugh at everyone's expense.
So today I learned a new word. It's one I wish didn't exist.
"Be the change you wish to see in the world.", said Mahatma Ghandi. "Do unto others as you would like them to do unto you.", said God. I'm trying. I bet you are too.
Sleep well and sweet dreams tonight, my friends.

Political Nonsense

I've been watching the Republican and Democratic conventions these past two weeks. I haven't watched every minute; I really don't have time to listen to every word. As I have watched, I find myself wishing that they would say something different; something original. Something that isn't the spin nonsense of the party line. I am so tired of hearing how bad the other guy is...when will someone actually tell me something that tells me what they think? I want to hear the truth from someone! I don't want to be needing to go to Google or snopes.com to verify what's been said. And...can I believe what I read there anyway? It just seems to me that no matter how many times they say "It's not about me......", that's really all it's about!

Politics have become such a dirty business. It seems to be more about how much trash one can talk about the other guy, rather than what can really be done to help our country regain the status of being the greatest nation on earth. When I was younger, I didn't pay much attention to the political games. I only knew what was happening in my own life. I remember very well the recession of the 1970's; the long lines at the gas stations; you had to go on particular days of the week to get fuel. I remember losing a business, and how hard it was for my husband to find work to support our family. We had two little girls and one on the way. Times were very hard. I have great sympathy for those who are stuggling now. And I don't know if there is anyone now running who truly has the answers our country needs, because no one is laying out their plans for the future.
The other thing that bothers me is the hatred I see being stirred up. How come it isn't okay to have a different opinion than someone else? Many politicians seem to be depending on dividing the country along party lines in order to get what they want. What happened to civility? I see friends online who vehemently hate the other side! How truly sad this is. We will never be able to work together if we don't stop trying to blame someone else for the state of the union. When will someone stand up and say, "ENOUGH! Can't we all just work together?" Don't bother to tell me that so and so says that this party wants to work together but that party doesn't...they both say the same thing. Generally speaking, the truth will be found somewhere in the middle.
Finally, I call to those who say that they are followers of Jesus. My question is this, "Are you showing the world a Jesus they could relate to?" Take a look at what you're posting on your Facebook wall, and then think again. Are you drawing people closer to finding God, or sending them further away from him? We can post the truth without being obnoxious. I know I need to be more careful in what I post, and be more diligent about checking my resources; people are asking; they want the truth.
The election is only a short time away.(60 days, to be exact.) Please pay attention to what is being said. Please pray. And please vote. You can only blame yourself for the next four years if you don't.
Thanks for revisiting my blog. I hope my rant doesn't stop you from coming back. I'd love to hear what you think. Leave a post if you like. Peace, Ginnie

IN HIS IMAGE

I preached this past Sunday at my church. Our pastor was going to be away, and he asked me if I would like to fill in. I agreed, and so I did. I enjoy preaching, occasionally. I don't think I would enjoy it as much if I had to do it every week. Once in a while is about my speed. Also, preaching every week would mean that I was probably a pastor; not a pair of shoes I care to fill. And not something that I feel I am called to be, either.
We worshipped; I sing and sometimes dance a bit. The worship time was wonderful, as always, and the songs that the leader had chosen spoke to my heart and confirmed the message I was about to give. As I entered into that place where I meet the Father and it's Him and me alone, I felt especially close to Him. It's so peaceful there. I suddenly became aware of someone standing close to me; there wasn't even anyone in my row before that. It was one of those times when you realize that it's either someone with a powerful anointing presence on them, or it's really Him. I didn't want to be distracted with guessing, so I looked.Visually, the space was empty. It was Him. And the depth of His presence increased as I stood there and reached out for the One Who was reaching out for me. He is so very beautiful. He told me things that made me laugh; how childlike I was when I first approached His word. I remembered the first time I read in Isaiah 6 that "His train filled the temple"  (RSV)   A train? Really? O, or course not, but what did that mean?
It made me laugh to remember how innocent I was regardiing the scriptures. (other versions are much clearer, i.e the NIV says "the train of his robe filled the temple."). It set me at ease for what ever I was going to say in just a few minutes.
You see, it isn't because I have become a scholar (I haven't) that I am able to give a message. It's because I know Him better than I did before, and I trust Him more. It's because I am secure in His love for me that I can say yes to some of the harder things He asks me to do. And I've learned that when I share my heart, people will listen. They won't always agree with everything I say, but they'll usually pay attention. At least for a little while. I have no need any longer to convince someone of what I believe; that's the job of the Holy Spirit. My job is to share the journey that I'm on; you may join me if you like. I'll always invite you, in one way or another. I like company.
So that's what I did last Sunday. I shared my heart and my vision for ministry outreach, and I invited people to come along. Some will, some won't. But I believe that even the ones who don't come with me will support me in this endeavor for the Lord. I am reaching out for a mostly unreached group of people, in a way that I haven't seen them being searched for. (That doesn't mean it isn't happening, it just means that I haven't seen it.)
We are all created in the image and likeness of God, and because we are, we are created with gifts and abilities that are particular to what God wants us to do and be. This is for everyone, not just the very noticably gifted and talented. I'm attempting to reach out to the Special Needs community in order to encourage them to become all they are supposed to become in the Kingdom of God. I'm not exactly sure what this will look like, but God knows. My job is to listen, follow and do what he shows me.
I've had a few people who are definitly interested in this project and want to help. That's so encouraging. It helps me to know that I'm in the right place and following the Lord's timing. I'm not rushing into it, either. I'll go one step at a time and it will come together. The fields are ripe for the harvest; the Lord is calling laborers into the work. They will be full of joy in the call and  that's how I'll know they were sent to work with me. His joy will be our strength. His wisdom will be our instruction. His love will guide us all. Perhaps you'd like to join us. All are welcome.
Peace to my readers today. May your homes be a haven of blessing, love, and joy.

Just One of Those Days......

I've been posting pictures on my Facebook page. One of them in particular reminded me of having one of those days. You know, when reality slides in and bites you. Most of the time, I refuse to visit that place, because it drags me backward and causes me to sink into a place of deep sadness. Ever have times like that?
 Adam uses his wheelchair whenever he doesn't have his orthotics(leg braces) on. He really can't walk without them. This day, we were outside and he needed his chair. The kids had been playing for a while, and Adam got tired and pulled over to a shady spot under a maple tree, near the end of the driveway. He sat there for a few minutes, watching the cars go by. I sat watching him, and thinking over the years of his life, and the milestones he had made. And the milestones he never made. That's where the sadness struck. He'll never skateboard down the block with friends. He'll never walk to the McDonald's around the corner. He will never drive a car. Friends don't call to ask him if he wants to hang out.
It's hard watching kids who are the same age as him; they're going to college and graduating. They're dating and getting engaged. They're driving and talking excitedly about the next car they're going to buy. And lots of other things that he will never do. I get so mad at myself whenever I let this take hold. It makes me cry and I feel awful. Paul and I can't even look at each other when we have this happen at the same time. It just hurts too much.
Well, that was depressing, wasn't it? But here's our usual reality.
Adam is one of the happiest people I know. He is also one of the most loving. In all the years of surgeries, endoscopies, and countless CT scans and medical procedures, Adam always comes up smiling when it's done. He never holds a grudge against the ones who have hurt him, or against me for subjecting him to all these many things. He is truly forgiving. I learn so much from him.
He also has a wonderful relationship with God. I think Adam knows God in ways that I can only imagine. I believe this because when he's able, he tells me what he knows and what he's seen.(Adam has expressive aphasia; which means he often cannot speak even though he knows what he wants to say.) He encourages others from time to time by praying for them or just blessing them by yelling out "JESUS,JESUS." and waving his hands towards them. How do I know it blesses someone else? Because they tell me. And the first time it happens, it blows them away. They always say something like "He really just blessed me. I mean REALLY. How does he do that?" Or, "I didn't know Adam could do that. I really felt the presence of the Lord." Amazing. God is so good. It used to be just me that got to see and understand what the Father is doing in Adam; it seems that now He is letting others in on His secret.
So, today is just one of those days too. But it's one of those days when I'm truly thankful for all that I have. Family, home, health, and Adam.  There were times when we weren't so sure that he would still be here with us. I'm so glad that he is.

Father,please bless my readers today. Meet their needs according to your glorious riches in Christ Jesus. Comfort those who mourn, encourage those who are disheartened, laugh with those who are rejoicing, and dance with the dancers! Thank you. I ask all this in Jesus' strong name.

You probably can't see this but the bag hanging on the back of the chair says "Life is Good". It truly is.
 

SIXTY. REALLY?

8-20-1952. The day I was born. Younger readers will think that's the dark ages, and in some ways, they'd be right. It was actually dark at night on Long Island. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face if the moon was new and you were out in the woods or at Gram's farm and out back in the orchard. There were still lots of places that didn't have streetlights. When you were lucky enough to be out at night, it was fun and mysterious. I remember driving to my grandmother's house in the dark, and how the trees overhanging the roads were like a tunnel that was lit only by the headlights of the family car. Mysterious, I tell ya! I loved it. Every once in a while I'll be driving somewhere and notice that effect; andit's like going into a time warp. I feel young and adventurous. The funny thing is, I really do still feel young. I remember my grandmother telling me that even though she was getting older on the outside (she was sixty-nine at the time), on the inside she still felt like she did when she was eighteen. I decided then that she had some particular wisdom about the situation, and that I would do the same. She lived to be ninety-two. I think she really had something there.
But sixty! How the heck did I get here? Wasn't I just thirty a few years ago? I guess not, because my eldest daughter turned forty this year. That was one of the few birthdays that made me realize that I really am old enough to be hearing from AARP, and that I can eat the senior citizen meals in the restaurants.(I don't). Did you know that many supermarkets give discounts to seniors on certain days of the week? I didn't either. I just found out a few weeks ago. I refuse to identify myself for the five percent I'll save. If I begin to think of myself as a senior, I may defeat my grandmother's inheritance of a youthful interior. That's way more valuable than two bucks at the checkout counter. 
 So....HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! I received lots of beautiful cards, and lots of greetings and blessings on Facebook. No one mentioned my age but me. Wasn't everybody nice?
I have heard it said that for the younger generation, our ceiling is their floor. I have even had that said to me by one or two who thought they were giving me a compliment. Actually, they were. But my response was and will continue to be, "Well then, you better get your climbing boots on, 'cause I'M NOT DONE YET!"
Thanks for checking back every now and then friends. I hope you enjoy the variety. And all you seniors out there....you ain't done yet either.

Welcome, Baby Owen

Baby Owen. His name means "young warrior", If his birth is any indicator, he certainly will be. My daughter gave birth after nearly thirty hours of labor. She gets the gold medal for her endurance. Front and back contractions, back to back, for hour after hour. She used "The Alexander Technique", which teaches you to focus on what's happening to your body and to stay in control, rather than to focus away from your labor onto something else to gain control, as Lamaze teaches. Rather than many breathing techniques, she used low sounds and groans as she rode wave after wave of pain. After about twenty five hours, the midwife decided it would be best to break her water and hopefully bring a quicker delivery of this little one who had stalled. Meconium in the fluid indicated distress in the baby, and Jessie was moved from the birthing suite to the labor and delivery rooms, where there would be faster access to doctors and any emergency measures that might need to be taken.  A quick consult between midwife and daughter, and the decision was made to have an epidural, so that Jessie could rest for about an hour and then begin pushing and deliver her baby. A wise decision, as she immediately went to ten centimeters dilation. After pushing for about twenty minutes, and a baby who wouldn't stay where he was sent, the obstetricians were consulted and then stayed and took over. The cord was around his neck and kept pulling Owen back in after each contraction ceased. A vacuum was neccesary to hold him in place so that he could be born with the least medical intervention possible. Three pushes more and Owen entered into the world! I have spared you some of the more graphic details, but I'm sure you get the intensity of the situation if you've ever been in a delivery room. Anyway, he cried almost immediately, which is what they hoped for; no complications from the meconium. His Apgar score,(which indicates the strength and alertness of the newborn) was 9.9 of a possible 10, which, according to an obsetrician friend of the family, is unheard of in such a difficult birth.
So I now am the proud grandmother of six wonderful children; two girls and four boys. Jessie and Doug hope to have one more, and if they do, my heart will be full with seven.
It was wonderful to be there for Owen's birth. I had made arrangements for a flight to San Diego in advance, knowing I would probably have to change my plans. But booking and changing guaranteed me the ability to get on a plane at the last minute, as long as there was still a seat. I didn't get to California until about fourteen hours after I got the call that labor had started, and I prayed that she would deliver before I got there as it would take so long. I couldn't get to the airport for the earliest flight; it was rush hour, the plane would take off in an hour and a half, and the trip to JFK would probably take two hours instead of one.
I am so glad I was there. Doug was so wonderfully supportive and calm that you might have thought he did this every day! Some of Jessie's friends were there too, and they took turns massaging her back and encouraging her, and praying for her and the baby. It was really an amazing thing to take part in. I am thankful that I was asked to be there, and thankful for all those who helped my daughter through a very long and very difficult birth. The girls brought their ipods and dock and there was worship music playing the whole time while we were in the birthing center. One of the nurses commented on how beautiful the music was. There was peace and there was quiet for the longest time; the only sounds were the music, Jessie's soft sounds and breathing, and the gentle comforting words of her husband, friends and me. The midwife and the nurses were as non-intrusive as they could be, giving space to us and instuctions as we needed them.

Owen; young warrior. You fought your way into the world and avoided a cesarian section delivery. You yelled as soon as you got here and avoided the NICU. And you rested after your arduous journey into the light and this next phase of your existence. You lay in your mother's arms and listened  as she cooed and talked to you. I have a friend who says that rest is a weapon. You seem to have that in your arsenal without being taught. Welcome to the family, little fighter. We're all so happy you're here.

How God Does Surprise Me

It was hot today! Paul, Adam and I went in the pool to cool off. The guys were in for a long time before I joined them. I had some yard work I wanted to catch up on, and it's so much easier to accomplish things when Adam is occupied elsewhere. When I was finished working, I cleaned up my pruners and the weeds I had pulled, and then went over to the pool to relax.
I sat on the steps for a while before finally getting all the way into the water. Adam always wants to play the minute I'm in, and I was tired. I sat and talked with Paul and threw a ball for Adam, and we watched the butterflies on the butterfly bushes; it was such a pleasant way to spend the afternoon.. I swam for a few minutes and then Paul and I leaned on the side of the pool and just enjoyed the quiet time. I was telling him about the Io moth I had seen the night before. He said he sees them all the time at work; they come around the light on the garage door of his receiving room. Paul goes to work when it's still dark out, so he sees things that I don't. I was saying how I don't know what the Lord is telling me this time as He said, "Do you do well to be sad about the moth?" (see yesterday's post) Paul didn't know either, but
while we were talking, he pointed to the sky and said "Look! Love!"  "What?", I asked. "Look! It says love!. And no lie, it really did. There were four little clouds that spelled out the word "Love". God is so amazing.
I jumped out of the pool and ran into the house to get my camera. I should have grabbed my cell phone, because my cd-rom doesn't work and I can't download the pictures that I took. The pictures are great, but the clouds had already begun to move by the time I got back outside. The L is still pretty clear, but the rest is not. I was hoping to share the pictures with you. If I get this computer repaired, I'll download them and post them here. For now, you'll have to take my word for it. Or not. Maybe it was something just for us to see together. God wanted us to know that the moth dialog was about love. Everything He does is, you know. He created everything that is for love. His desire is that we would love the same way He does, and that we would be one. I'm trying. I don't always succeed, but I really am trying. I'm getting better all the time. God is for me, and when He's on your side, you can't fail.
Peace and love to all my readers tonight. God loves you. I do too. Sleep well and be blessed.

Targetted at Target

The air was hot and sticky when I came out of Target tonight. I took off the sweatshirt  I was wearing against the freezing air conditioning in the store. I was hurrying to get home because I had been out longer than I expected.
I pulled the shopping cart up next to the car to unload it, and I saw something fluttering on the ground. I looked more closely and discovered that it was an Io moth. Io moths are large and  brown with dark blue eyes on their wings. Their bodies are covered with a soft, lighter brown velvet and they are really quite beautiful.  I moved slowly closer to get a better look; I didn't want to startle it away before I got a chance to really see it. I was sorry I had forgotten my phone because I would have liked to take a picture of it. As I got closer, it didn't even try to move away. I touched it, I tried to pick it up. It was stuck to the asphalt. I wasn't sure if it was dead or holding on tightly to the pavement. It looked as though it was laying eggs. I tried again to move it, to get it to a better place, but I wasn't able to do so. It held on tightly or was perhaps partly crushed and stuck to the ground. "Oh, poor thing", I said aloud.
"Do you do well to be sad about the moth?" I heard the voice of the Lord immediately. Not audibly, but that still small voice that is unmistakeably Him. "Yes Lord, I do; I think I do...".
"Why?"
"Because it is rare and beautiful and you hardly ever see one.....what is it that You want me to know, to understand?"  "Is it that Your heart breaks for people, who are all rare and beautiful, each and every one?"
No answer. But I felt sadder and my eyes began to fill with tears.. "Break my heart, God, with the things that break Yours", was all I could pray. I prayed all the way home.
There are some things He has asked me to do, and I've been procrastinating. I've been talking to Him about them again, and I know I need to finish what I started. God is with me in this process, and is so very patient.
This time, instead of butterflies, He used a moth. Butterflies are out during the day, moths are out at night. Was it just because I was out and it was night time, or is the meaning deeper? I don't know. But I do know that I'm not letting go until I gain the full understanding. I think tonight at Target, I was the target.

"It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings." Proverbs 25:2.
 I'm searching still.

HOPE HONESTY AND LOVE

A few weeks ago I was sitting at my kitchen table with one of my dearest friends. We've known each other for 30 years. We've been going to the same church for about 16 years. We've been through all the ups and downs together, and some have been more difficult than others. This latest round, covering the last three years, has been so difficult for us and for others. It's been hard to talk about some of the things we've needed to talk about, because in order to do so we feel like we're betraying some who have left us to go to other pastures. It can be so hard to tell if we're clearing the air and our hearts, or just plain gossipping.
So as we tried to talk about things that are hurting us, we were being so very careful. Especially because the ones who hurt us had positions of authority over us at one time. "Touch not the Lord's anointed", I heard in the days of my youth. So I rarely do, even when I need to clear the air or disagree. I usually keep my feelings to myself and do what I think the Lord wants, whether authority people will like it or not. At least in my own home and circle of family and friends. I have always gone by the rules at church.
So she and I were working through some very painful memories, and some things that confused us both. About half an hour into the discussion, Adam walked into the room and loudly announced; Hope, Honesty, and Love." That about blew me out of my chair! Adam, who has such difficulty expressing himself, came into the kitchen and so clearly spoke a word from the Lord to us. It was exactly what we needed to hear, exactly when we needed to hear it. All we could do was give thanks to the One who sent him, and bless the time we spent together to heal our wounds and hurts. God is so good. I love it when He stops by so unexpectedly.
I have to mention too that it's been so much easier for me since my trip to Bethel Church in Redding, California. My head and my heart have been cleared from all of the confusion and warfare that I was suffering from for such a long time. I think I'll save that story for another post.
Peace and joy to all my readers. I love that you take the time to visit here.

Here We Go Again

Have I mentioned before that I like change? I know I have. God must have stopped by and listened when I said it, because, here we go again. The church is changing again.
Over the last few months, we've been settling into the merge with our brothers and sisters in the Mosaic Vineyard. It's been challenging at times, but mostly very good. Just different. One of the best parts of the merge is that we've been reconciled with some old friends and been realizing just how much we missed each other. The other really good part is that we were welcomed so very warmly by the Mosaic family, and made to feel at home.
For the last two years or so, my husband and I knew that things would change again, we just didn't know when. Deep inside, we both knew that our Bridge pastor and his wife wouldn't be staying. We didn't know when they would leave, but we knew they would. It's not that they were unhappy here, Paul and I just had an unshakeable feeling that it wouldn't be long before they let us know they'd be moving on. We were right. They told the church today that they will be moving to Canada to pastor a church there on Prince Edward Island. (Of course, he didn't say it  as bluntly as I just wrote.)
Over the last week or so, I had a few conversations with Tom, our pastor from the Bridge, so I knew he was thinking about taking this position, and then knew he'd accepted it. He asked me to pray for him, and I did. He sought counsel from wise friends and prayed and sought the Lord's will, and he and Nadine feel right about the move. It's a "scary wonderful" kind of adventure for them. Tom says he's dragged Nadine all over the place, and she always goes with him without protest. She loves him, he says. And she passionately agrees.
Today was harder than I expected. I knew what was coming. I knew in my heart for a long time that this would come. I didn't expect to be so emotional about it. Oh well....
At the end of the service, our new family was so loving and supportive. One wanted us to pray for Tom and Nadine right away. Others joined her. I couldn't. One of the women sitting near me slid over and put her arm around me and prayed quietly and gently for the Lord to come and bring His peace. She was so sweet. I noticed that happening all around the sanctuary. Mosaic people loving on Bridge people. It was wonderful to see the caring and support from our new sisters and brothers and to watch them speak words of comfort and to pray.
So things are changing again. I don't like all of it, but I know we'll be alright. More than alright. We're a family, and families help each other and grow closer together when the Lord is the center and the focus. And He is. We all want what He wants and we want to follow hard after Him in all that He has for us.
God stopped by in the middle of it all and moved us all a bit closer to each other and to Himself. I trust Him in all of this. He has a hope and a future for me and for everyone.
I'm blessing Tom and Nadine as they'll be leaving us in a few weeks or months, even though I'm sad about it. I'm blessing Phill and Patti as they stay and move us forward. I can still feel an excitement over what the Lord wants to do in our midst. My hope is that everyone else feels the same way, and that if they don't yet, they soon will.
Thank you Father for the time we've had together. Thank you for all we've learned and for the healing that's taken place. Our little church had been so very broken by things that happened in the last several years. Thank you for bringing Tom and Nadine and their gifts of fathering and mothering the church. They didn't know what they were getting into when they decided to come and be with us, but they gave themselves wholeheartedly to us and all that we needed. We love them for it and we love You for sending them. Please bless them on their journey and prosper all that they put their hands to. I ask in the precious name of Jesus. Amen.
Blessings to all my readers. Thank you for your return visits. I appreciate you!. :0}

Baby Shower, San Diego Style

It's been a week since I returned from a trip to San Diego for my daughter's baby shower. I was gone four days, and it was just not long enough.
It's hard having my youngest child live so far away. It's especially hard now that she's pregnant, and I don't get to share in the day-to-day discoveries of her journey into motherhood. It's hard knowing that this new little one will grow up so far away from us, and that we will only see him or her twice a year. I have to tell you, as hard as I try not to let it, this hurts.
The good thing is that I know my daughter was brought to San Diego by the Lord. He has a plan for her life, and at least for now, it's not on the East Coast. She traveled to California for her own reasons, but she found a deep and wonderful relationship with Jesus when she got there. California is where she landed in a great church, met some wonderful friends, and eventually, her husband. I love the times I get to sit and watch the interactions between Jessica, Doug, and their friends. It's truly inspirational. They have a sense of community that I have rarely seen. They love and depend on each other. They pray for each other and speak into one another's lives. They get together just to have fun and play games and socialize and eat. It is what I think the Lord intends for the church. They live their faith every day, all week long. Their lives are intertwined in ways I can only guess at. They truly support and carry each other in the toughest of times.
One of the girls is having some very difficult health issues. The friends are holding her before the Lord, and even at the baby shower, there where those who gathered around her to pray for healing. Some spent time to just speak words of encouragement to her, or to share what God has said during private time spent with Him regarding her situation. Just glorious.
Planned into every shower is prayer time. This is a time to pray for the one who is being celebrated that day, whether it be a bridal or a baby shower. It's wonderful to hear these women who know the Lord speak blessings over my child. I get to pray too, of course. It's a beautiful tradition that I think should be done at every party, everywhere.
The newest addition to our family is due next month, and I get to return for the birth. I'm so excited to see this little shining one. She or he will bring such joy to us all, as babies always do. Very soon now, my baby will be holding her first baby; what a delight! Whenever I talk about becoming a grandmother, I always share how seeing your grandchild for the first time is just as amazing as seeing your own child for the first time. And how you love that child just as much and exactly the same as you loved your own child when you saw it. And when you hold that baby in your arms, oh how sweet and how joyful that moment is! You never want to let go.
I really do love being a grandmother............even long distance.

Chance Meeting

Adam and I went shopping at Sam's Club the other day. We always talk to strangers; I can't get Adam to stop. Sometimes it irritates me, because I want to get finished and because it's not always safe. We do, however, get to meet some pretty interesting people this way.
Adam did his usual hand waving and "C'mere, C'mere" to a man in the store. He responded by saying hello and coming over after making eye contact with me. I nodded my acceptance of the meeting. He was very nice. Adam asked "What's your name?" and the man responded that his name was Fernando. He asked Adam his name, and they talked for a few minutes. I entered the conversation to translate as neccesary, but Fernando had little difficulty understanding him.
He told me that he used to work with people like Adam In fact, His mother, his father and his sister all also worked with special needs people. His family had all since retired, and his parents are no longer living. Fernando is also a former Marine and Harley Davidson enthisiast. You find out all kinds of things when you spend a few minutes listening to strangers.
I thanked him for his work with our precious ones, and told him he is a blessing to us and to many. I mentioned how unusual it is for so many in one family to work in the same field, and what wonderful hearts they all have.This big, strong, former Marine teared up at my remarks. I asked him to please thank his family for us; people like them are so important to our families.. I told him what a generous, loving person he is and how grateful I was for that. His eyes were full, and so was his heart. We shook hands and parted. You never know who you're going to meet, especially when you take a trip with Adam. Maybe you'd like to join us sometime. :0} Peace and love to my readers today.

Kids, Apple Slices, and a Persistant Father

We had a busy day today; Adam had another doctor's appointment, we went to the bank, we picked up Maggie, and then went shopping for a few things. The kids were so good, and I told them I'd take then for something to eat. Fast food is fast, easy and guaranteed to be popular, so we went through the drive through and then parked to have our lunch. We were enjoying the rest after a lot of walking, and I wanted Adam in particular to sit for a while.
He asked me to open his apple slices, and when I tried, I noticed that they looked funny so I checked the date. It said 4-12. I was upset. Maggie was already eating hers. I took them away from her and checked the date, and it was fine...sometime in June. Relief.
Now I was annoyed. I didn't want to drag the kids out of the car again, I just wanted to sit and enjoy some down time. Adam's leg was hurting, and I didn't want him up. BUT...I wanted to tell the restaurant about the outdated food. But, it's a pain to get him and the baby out of the car; drag Adam out, drag the walker out of the car again, unhook Maggie and get her out of the seat, and then us safely across the busy parking lot. What a pain! At first, it was because I was annoyed, and I wasn't going to bother reporting it. But as I sat there thinking, I became concerned for anyone else who might get served a bad portion of food. Maybe they would eat it and get sick. I felt the need to deal with it, but I was grumbling to myself as I got everyone out of the car. Neither child wanted to be disturbed and protested loudly.
I went inside and asked for the manager. I was going to just tell one of the workers, but I felt the pressure to ask for the manager. Adam and Maggie were patient and waited quietly. A young woman who looked to be in her very early twenties came over and asked if she could help me. I motioned her away from anyone who was nearby and said that I didn't want to make a fuss about it, but that the apples were outdated. I didn't want there to be a problem for anyone else. Upon close inspection, it turns out that the apples weren't expired, I just couldn't see the whole date. She pointed it out to me and they were good until June, but they did look yucky. She said she'd get us another package and check the other portions.
While we were talking, I noticed some distintive scarring on her inner forearms; she was a cutter. Some of the scars were pretty deep. I wanted to say something encouraging to her, but I didn't want to offend her. I thought about it while she was getting us some fresh apples. When she came back, I took her hand and said," I just wanted to say 'God bless you.' I can see that you've been fighting a hard battle, and that you're winning.". She held my hand and didn't pull away. She looked at me and smiled and said "I've been reading my bible every day, and it's really helping me." I was so pleasantly surprised. I said I knew that it does; it always does. I put my arm around her shoulders for a moment and said, "I just want you to know, from one Christian sister to another, I'm so proud of you. So very proud." Her face lit up and we wished each other a nice day; I had to leave and she had to work. A nice young man held the door open for my little troop and we went back out to the car.
I was so thankful to the Lord for prompting me over and over about going inside. I didn't realize it was Him until I saw those scars and heard her response. I've been telling Him lately that I want to make a difference and have those chance encounters for Him, and I almost missed this one.  Even going inside, if I hadn't asked for the manager, I would still have missed this divine appointment. Isn't He so good? He just pricked my conscience until I had to respond. He wanted to give one of His daughters a touch of Himself in her busy day, and He made me available to do it. I am so blessed.
God stops by in so many ways; if I don't pay attention, I just might miss Him.

(for my readers who may not know, a cutter is someone who cuts or slices into their body for various reasons, often to dull the pain of something that hurts much worse and is much deeper than the damage they're doing to their skin. it can be a very difficult behavior to stop)