ANGER ISSUES

Yesterday ended for us at about midnight. That's when Adam finally went to sleep....4 hours after he went to bed. He was good and patient and sometimes laughing...watching worship and the annoying ads on YouTube....

Today began at 5:30 a.m. No t.v. allowed. He's descending into whining now as I sit typing. He will probably take a nap soon. It's 7:30 a.m.

Adam has been having all kinds of difficulties lately, which means I have too. Mine are easier...I just have to deal with doctors and meds for him, and trying to get him back on an even keel; no small task, but not as bad as the pain and anxiety he deals with every day.

This season has been unlike the ones in the past......Adam's body is changing and I can't figure out what's going on. His doctors don't seem to be aware of this and just do the same old things they always do. Sometimes that amounts to nothing. That's what's been happening right now anyway. I put a call in to his neurologist for help with med changes. No call back. Thursday and Friday came and went. I needed to make a change so I went ahead and did it. Added back a med we were trying to remove because of side effects. Removing the last dose did not go well, and I needed help with putting him back on it and changing out the new doses of another one. No help, so I removed one of the added doses. He seemed to do fine with it, but his headaches were still bad and getting worse. I called the neurologist's office again on Monday. No call back. 

I called the neurosurgeon's office and asked to speak with Adam's doctor regarding the increasing headaches and irritability. They gave me an appointment for two weeks later. I asked if the doctor could please call me as I needed some advice NOW. No call back. Adam's symptoms increased to the point neither of us could deal with them any more, so off to the E.R. we went. He had increasing pain in multiple areas and increasing behaviors that we couldn't help him with; I was having increasing anger at the doctors for being so irresponsible and complete frustration over being unable to help Adam. Not a good combination.

The E.R. trip was the usual nightmare; start an i.v., get blood work done, wait for X-rays and CT scans to be done. Nothing shows anything. Blood work is ok and the things that are off are unrelated to this issue. Follow up with G.I.doctor. We already are, thank you. "Not all headaches are shunt headaches." We know this, thank you very much. Except that the guidance for a person with a shunt is very simply, "It's always the shunt." They tell you this from the time the shunt is placed because it almost always IS the shunt, and you can't afford to miss it. The cost is too high. Unfortunately for Adam, his shunt is often blocked and the scans show normal ventricles. (Where the fluid builds up in the brain.) The last surgery to relieve this found no issue; the shunt was NOT blocked. This has never happened before, and now I am at a loss as to when to push for surgery. So is his neurosurgeon. It's a wait and see game. Did I mention that we waited with headache issues for 10 days? The storms coming and going over the last few weeks wreak havoc with his head and shunt. The low barometric pressures increase the pressure in his head. It can be very difficult to determine what's going on with Adam. So anyway, as far as the tests show, Adam is safe for now. His condition at this time is not life threatening so nothing needs to be done. His quality of life is terrible, but since the last surgery wasn't needed, the risk of surgery is worse than the risk of no surgery. The proverbial "between a rock and a hard place". And by the way, Adam's surgeon was not on call, and I still haven't heard back from him.

Yesterday I called the neurologist again, but I spoke to someone at the front desk instead of following procedure and leaving a voice mail. I told the young man who answered the phone that I needed to hear from the doctor today or I was going to fire him. I told him that maybe it's the phone system that I and others have been complaining about for a long time, but that I didn't care if it was that because if I can't get hold of the doctor when I need him, I will find someone else who can help us. The person was very understanding and told me that the staff has also been complaining about the phones, and he took down information and said he would give it to the doctor. I got a call back after hours. We now have a plan to adjust Adam's meds over time and see how he does. The doctor told me the there is no record of me calling. I told him I left voice mail TWICE. He gave me his email address for future needs.

So the problem now is that I have lost my peace and I am in an angry place. There is too much happening in our family right now, much of which is too personal for another member and I will not discuss in a public forum. This person is important to us, we love them, and we respect their desire for privacy.

And I have chiggers. Lots of them. I called three doctors who were all not in and then went to urgent care. I was the sixth one that morning. I guess September of 2020 was CHIGGERS. Who knew?

Today I am going to try to make the space to spend time with the LORD and get back to my center of peace. I can't stay in this angry place much longer. I keep seeing prophetic postings of the wonderful changes that are here, are coming, are just ahead, and they just make me angrier. I just can't see it. And I'll leave it right there.

Thanks for reading today. Many blessings to you and yours. And mine. God is good, all the time. Even when I'm in a bad mood. He still stops by, even when I'm not paying attention. He's just that loving, just that caring, just the never changing always the same always steadfast One.

Special Needs Parenting

When you have a very sick child, and especially when that child goes into the hospital, you are thrown into a world that you would never imagine. I'm sure the stories are different for every family that goes through this, but this is ours. I would love to hear from others about theirs.

When the hospital is a teaching hospital, it's more intense, in my opinion. On top of the hospitalist and phlebotomists, and ct scan techs, and x ray techs, and nurses, and admitting people, you have students. You don't know that they're students at first, because they just keep coming and you just keep answering the same questions over and over and you're worried about your child, and then another one comes in, and he has more tests and they kick you out for blood draws and when you finally get back in after listening to the screaming and they tell you it's just because he's being restrained because infants don't feel pain and then they leave you alone for a bit and then....if you're like me, YOU COUNT THE SPOTS FROM HOW MANY TIMES IT TOOK THEM TO GET THE BLOOD. In Adam's case, Jodi and I counted TWELVE STICKS. Tiny spots of blood where the doctor in training couldn't get the vein and then stuck him again. And again. And again. In his arms, his hand, his neck, his head. And now instead of being just scared, you get ANGRY........ and you realize that you have a great deal to learn. So I complained. Nothing could be done at this point, except that I said I didn't want him to touch Adam again. That's when I learned that he was a student. But he did not touch Adam again. 

The staff was also buzzing around and talking about this case, and we knew one of the nurses. At one time she had been in church with us. Apparently she was talking more than she should have, and I heard something being said about a lawsuit. So I went to the desk and challenged what I was hearing. She told me that because Adam's pediatrician had not admitted Adam right away when he was first sick, that we could sue him, and I told her that we had no intention of doing that. We had enough to deal with. But, because of her interference, the staff was on their guard around us. And I told the next few people who came in that we absolutely were NOT going to sue anyone. They pretended that they hadn't heard anything, but we could tell by the change in their demeanor that they were lying.

We didn't have enough to deal with, and now we had scared staff to contend with. This person was very unprofessional and full of herself, and caused us troubles on top of our troubles. But again, we learned. I don't know if she faced any repercussions from this, but I hope she was at least confronted by her superiors. Now we know about Patient Advocates, but we didn't know about them at that time. We learned something new after Adam was admitted.

Patient Advocates work for the hospital but are there for the protection and needs of patients who may have troubles while they're in the hospital. Hopefully, you will never need one. But be sure to ask if you do. 

I think I'll stop here for today. I'll be back tomorrow. Stop in if you like; our door is always open.

The Beginning of Hard Times

Adam was born on December 19, 1989. He turned 30 on his last birthday, and it's still hard to believe he's this age.He was a beautiful little boy with a full head of dark brown hair. 6lbs. 11 ounces. Tiny and perfect to all of us. He was two weeks early, and as far as we know, he had no health issues. But...he could not nurse because he kept his tongue firmly pressed against the roof of his mouth. The nurse told his mom, my daughter Jodi and me not to worry, but I knew something was not right, as he could not latch on. For the first few weeks we had to break the suction in order to get the nipple of his bottle into his mouth. I have often thought back over this, and wondered if this was an undiagnosed sensory issue. We never got to deal with this with the pediatrician, because he got sick when he was 4 1/2 weeks old. To keep this story brief, he had two visits to the doctor's office, and calls back and forth over the next couple of days. 

One evening while Jodi was feeding him, his left leg began to twitch, and I told her to shift him to see if that would stop. It didn't. The tremor quickly continued up the left side of his body. His temperature had dropped to 94.6. And off to Stony Brook we went. By the time we got there, he was one step above coma. Through hours of exams and tests, it was determined the he had meningitis and sepsis. Group B strep. This can and often does kill. He was admitted to the PICU. And the nightmare had just started. He seized for three hours the following morning. They finally got them under control with a full dose of Ativan, after many other drugs failed. (Detail for medical friends) He was there for 5 days.

We attended an Episcopal church at that time and I called for one of the priests to come and anoint and pray for him. I had been praying for him for days before he was admitted. His symptoms went up and down.....I heard the enemy hiss the word "meningitis" one of those long nights. I told the priest that I wasn't crazy, and to please pray to break this assault against him. He agreed, and he did. And he anointed Adam head to toe. 

After we were released from the PICU to the regular pediatric floor, my husband bumped into one of the nurses who had taken such excellent care of him. She was thrilled at how well he was doing, and told my husband that they never expected Adam to make it past the first night; they were sure he would die.

When we went home 2 1/2 weeks after being admitted, and I called the pediatrician's office to set up an after care appointment, I heard the receptionist excitedly telling everyone, "The miracle baby's mom is on the phone! The miracle baby's mom is on the phone!" 

As hard as this had all been, God is good. He saved Adam's life. There are many, many stories that are interwoven with this one; I'll tell some tomorrow. 

Adam IS a miracle. And he's had a few more. We'll get there. Well, I will. It's up to you if you will. But I hope you do.

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Anyone who knows me well, knows I love to tell stories. It's been a while since I've told any here, so scroll on by if you're not interested.

Still here?

Not very long ago, God stopped by when I went shopping in Kohl's with coupons and Paul and Adam. They followed me a bit and cruised around a bit. Adam got tired so they went back to the car and people watched and drove around while I actually found a few sweaters and went to the dressing room to try them on. While I was in there, two women began talking about some clothes for one of them.

I really tried my best to butt out. I really tried so hard not to get involved.I tried not to listen but they were right next door. I felt like the one woman needed some encouragement and her friend wasn't getting through. "It's not my business," I kept protesting to the Lord. I lost the argument when I stepped out of my booth and looked at them. They were between me and escape.

So I chatted with them and gave my encouraging opinion over the clothes the one was trying to decide about. She was going on a blind date and needed some help. She is sixty and hadn't dated in a long time. I did not ask for details. She was so indecisive and I stayed with the other woman who I thought was her friend and encouraged her to try something on too. She wasn't going to, and she wasn't her friend. They had just met too! A little more time and I said I needed to leave and the one trying on clothes asked me to wait just one more outfit, so I went out to look at clothes while I waited. It also gave me an escape route. The friend who wasn't a friend followed me out.

Your gifting will always draw people to you, and I knew exactly what was happening, but I didn't have lots of time. Two men were driving around waiting for me.

Linda began chatting with me and as often happens, out came her life story. Her kids were no longer talking to her, she was separated from her husband for fourteen years because it was cheaper for him to support her than to divorce her. He poisoned their now adult children's minds in recent years, and so they turned against her and moved away from her and closer to him. She suffers from depression.

I asked her if I could pray for her, and she said yes. But then I asked if I could hug her because she needed one and she said yes. When I did, she broke down and put her head on my shoulder and sobbed in my arms for a good five minutes.

Suzanne came out of the dressing room during this and asked if everything was ok and I said it was. She continued shopping for her blind date. Linda settled down and wiped her tears and apologized for crying all over me, and I told her it was fine. She thanked me for the prayers and hugs.

I asked Suzanne if I could pray for her for anything, and she said yes, so I did, but that's another story. We didn't exchange info, so I don't know how the blind date turned out, or how Linda is doing, but I leave them in God's capable hands. If I need to know how they're doing, He can certainly arrange that just as He arranged this. And by the way, I bought two sweaters for seventeen dollars with my double discounts!

STILL STANDING

She is a warrior.....
  not because her faith is perfect.
                  it isn't.

not because she never wavers......
         she does.

Her armor is silver....because she is
  one of the redeemed ones.
            but
it's dented and it's bloodied
and it's covered in tears

her sword is at her hand, on her side
    but she carries it always ready
            in her spirit

Her helmet also bears the marks
  of many battles....
  but it is her glory to wear it

Her boots are dusty, dirty..
  and worn from her long journey
   but they bring peace wherever she goes

Her shield is faith...it too has
  taken a beating
  but she comes back every time to fight again

her war has been long and
      she gets tired

     But still, she stands

Her hair is silver and grey, her face, wrinkled
   her body, weaker
and yet, she is stronger

 She is beautiful
She is a warrior

And the glory of the LORD is her rear guard....
to keep her in all her ways.



Ephesians 6:10-17, Isaiah 58:8

THE STORY OF THE AFRICAN VIOLET


Just yesterday I was talking with two friends about the beautiful African violet on my kitchen table. It's absolutely stunning, and one of the prettiest ones I've ever had. God stopped by in the middle of our conversation , and this is what He showed me.

This one has a story and lesson to tell.

I bought this plant a few years ago; it was small and pretty. It's not the typical royal purple that I usually like, but rather a dark orchid color. I babied it, and it grew, I translated it to a bigger pot. Its flowered maybe once our twice a year. Then we got Midnight.

Midnight was a rescued kitten that had a broken leg. My granddaughter had called from her friend's house and asked me to help, so of course I did. He was beautiful, and almost completely black. I took him to the vet, his leg was casted, and although I thought he was a rescue and I was a foster mom, he stayed.  He was truly sweet and loving. As he grew, he became full of mischief and was always after my plants. One day, he broke the lovely African violet. The stem broke in half, and I was sure that was the end of it. But I hated to lose it.

I thought about it before I threw it away. I knew that you could start new plants from a leaf, and I had done this many times and given plants away to family and friends. I thought about starting a new one, but then I thought, what if this plant could grow new roots and survive? Seemed like it was worth a try, so I prayed and asked God to bless it and make it grow. I took off lots of the lower leaves, and trimmed off the broken stem to make it even. Then I put some fresh potting soil in its pot, and planted the stem about three inches deep. Time would tell.

The violet took some time to root and get strong. It was wilted and weak for quite a while, but I kept watching it, watered it when it got dry, and prayed for it to survive. And it did! It has grown and become one of the healthiest plants I've ever grown. The leaves are dark and shiny, and this year it has already bloomed three times! ( it is September as I'm writing this) I've never had one bloom this often. I water and feed it it regularly, and it has made a remarkable recovery. This most recent bloom is exactly like the blooms of plants grown for horticultural competition; all the blooms are standing up like a crown in the middle of the plant. Gorgeous.

So as my friends and I were talking about this, it occurred to us that this plant in comparison to the one sitting right next to it, is a mature plant. The other one does not seem to be so. They get the same love and attention, but one has grown so much more noticeably than the other.

It's like this in the Kingdom of God as well. Two people can sit in the same church, under the same teaching and leadership, go to the same home group and share other like experiences, but they will each grow in their own way. This is neither good nor bad, it's just the way it is. One leaps into everything  without  a doubt, the other takes more time and likes to check things out before taking the plunge. Both are part of the Kingdom, both have their own place in the body and their own calling of God. Both love the Lord and serve Him as they are abled to do so.  The one, more beautiful and more noticeable, the other, more contemplative and perhaps growing deeper, in the deep place where only God can see. Which one is of more value? As the eye sees, the beautiful one is. But as the eye of God sees, they are of equal value. He loves both with the same love, same passion, same willingness to help them grow.

So let there be no competition in the household of God. Let there be no judging, no weighing of service, in frequency or in perfection. Rather, let there be love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. May we all be one, just as Jesus prayed in John chapter 17.

Thanks for stopping by today; I've been away for a while. I hope this blesses you.

#STOPANDPRAY

I have a friend who I mostly know through Facebook, but we originally met because our children went to the same neurosurgeon. We connected several months ago, and I've been following the latest trial by fire that her family had been going through. She writes beautifully, thoughtfully, inspiringly. Her heart is full of love for her daughter, her family and God.

A couple of weeks ago she wrote about how we scroll by on social media looking for the next thing that catches our interest. We "Like" or send hearts or emoticons in response. And we keep going. She asked that maybe we could stop and pray. She wrote about her daughter's suffering, and asked for prayer for her too. That request went around the world, and many, many people were responding and praying and sending photos of where they were when they stopped to pray for her daughter. It was wonderful to see how many people, how many places, how many loving and caring responses came to that post. I responded too.

When we like something that someone else has shared on Facebook, we often respond with, "I'm stealing this", which means we're going to put it on our own page. I've been thinking about Eileen's request, and I've decided that I'm not stealing it, but I'm sharing it and forwarding #stopandpray and hoping that others will catch the heart of it, stop and pray where they are, and share it on their social media, with photos. I'd love to see a blitz of prayer happening on my Facebook feed, instead of the negativity that I see so much of the time.

We are the people of God, heirs of His Kingdom, lovers of Jesus, and we are called to make a difference in the world. Some are not called to other countries, some are not called to street ministry, some are not called to be out there for everyone to hear and see. You may have a different opinion of this, but I, for one, rarely am able to do those things. Most of them, never. But I can make a difference for right where I live, right in my own home, right in my own neighborhood, town,  Facebook page, and blog. I can make a difference when I pray at home, in my yard, when I grocery shop, when I'm driving. You can make a difference that way too, or when you jog, or walk the dog, or go outside to get the mail, stop for coffee at 7-11 or Starbucks, or when you sit on the porch to watch the sun setting and praise God for the beauty of His creation.

God stopped by this morning while I was reading Eileen's latest article in a local paper, and inspired me to write this. I hope you will join me and #stopandpray. I think it will be fun and maybe, just maybe inspire more prayer that changes the world. Thanks Eileen. Thank you Father.

THE TRUTH OF BIRDS AND BUGS

One day last summer, two of my grandchildren were here. I was watching them while their parents were at work.
During lunch, Gavin was looking out the kitchen window and yelled excitedly, "Look at that bird! It's killing and eating something"
I went and looked; there was a bird, smashing something green. Then he said, " I think it's a praying mantis!"  I hoped it wasn't. We've been seeing lots of them the last few summers, and I hated to think there was going to be one less. I looked again, and he was right; there was a bird beating a bug to death and eating it at the same time. It was a mantis.
I felt a little bit bad about it, because we enjoy seeing the mantises on the house and around the yard. But, it's the way of nature; everybody eats. Some get eaten.

The LORD often speaks to me through His creation. Do you recognize the different ways He speaks to you?

Praying mantises are so named because of their posture when they're sitting and waiting for lunch to come by. They hold their front appendages together like a person holding their hands together in prayer. They also sit this way when you happen upon them and study them, and they quite often study you right back. I think their name should be spelled "preying"mantis, because that's what they really do.

I had been watching some videos by Jennifer Eivaz, a well known Christian speaker and author. She and her husband pastor a church in California, and she had just taught on the praying mantis, and how it represents a praying prophet. It's a strong reminder to pray when we see one of these insects on our front door or screens or plants, and that we can prophesy when we are praying instead of only petitioning Him for things. You can watch her on YouTube if you're interested.  She quoted Job12:7 which says, "Just ask the animals and they will teach you, ask the birds of the sky and they will tell you." I love this, because I actually do talk to the animals that show up in my yard, and I talk to the birds at the feeders and in the trees. So I asked the LORD what he had to say about what I had just seen. And He stopped by and said,

             "THE ENEMY CANNOT KILL YOUR PRAYERS,
                         BUT HE CAN KILL YOUR PRAYER LIFE"

WOW!!! That hit the mark perfectly. It spoke volumes to me about prayers that have been prayed and have yet to be answered. It also spoke volumes regarding whether I pray or not. If I agree with the voice of the enemy, and stop praying because he tells me my prayers are weak, or that I'm wasting my time, it's never gonna happen, I pray wrongly, everyone else prays better, etc. and so on, then he CAN kill my prayer life. And if you listen to that nonsense, he can kill yours too.

So today, if you're reading this, and you have listened and agreed with the father of lies, come OUT of agreement with the voice of the accuser, and get your prayer back on! You can do it, and God is on your side, just like He's on mine.

Blessings to you, and I hope your spirit is renewed today by the One who loves you best of all.

Between the Now and the Not Yet....

I don't hear this phrase used very often anymore, but it's a truth in our lives; yesterday, today, and probably tomorrow. This line of thinking was provoked because I was reflecting on Adam's upcoming birthday; he'll be twenty-eight years old in December. There's something in the waiting-and-not-finished-yet in this fact.

As I mull over this great event that will happen in a few weeks, I'm a bit melancholy. On the one hand, I'm so happy that he's doing okay, and especially that he's still here with us. On the other hand....

At this age, Adam could have a college degree. More than one, if he wanted or needed them.
He could have been married at this age. He could have had one or more children. (I could have been a great grandmother!) He would probably be driving and have his own home, whether an apartment with friends, or a house with his wife and children. He would be working and providing for himself, and his family. He could have traveled across the country or around the world. He could have served our country in the military. He could have run a marathon or two. Or biked along the I95 corridor to raise money for his favorite charity, or hiked the Appalachian trail.
Maybe he would have been a teacher. Or an architect. Or a mechanic. Or a small business owner. He might have been a carpenter or a plumber or a banker or a doctor. The list is endless, but it doesn't matter. He isn't any of these things; will never do any of these things. This is the pain of the families of children with disabilities.

We don't talk about it because let's face, who wants to hear it?  Most of the time we don't even want to think about it. It's depressing. There's nothing that can be done about it. There are no comforting words that will make everything alright. There is no salve to heal these wounds. If we do try to talk about it, we often can't speak because of the tremendous emotion that sits right behind our eyes and in our hearts, and we don't want it to come tumbling out, out of control. If the dam breaks, it's hard to build up the wall again. This is a glimpse into our world. This is an invitation to look, to try to understand something you hopefully never really have to understand.

So what was this all about? Oh, right, the now and the not yet. Everything I just wrote about is the now. It's our reality. It really stinks sometimes. But not all the time.

In the now is also a loving family; a child who tries his hardest to communicate, to keep up with others as they do everyday things like walking and talking. Parents and grandparents who do their best but mess it up plenty of times, sisters and brothers and cousins and aunts and uncles who are in and out of the picture in the day-to-day of life, but always in the picture because they're family. It's Adam's smiling face, his gusty joyous laughter, his hugs and his jokes, his endurance in suffering, and his love for anyone who is nice to him. This is the good, the sweet, the precious, the needed; the reality all the time, even when the bad times come.

We're in between that now, and the Not Yet, which is what we long for. We long for the day when there will be no more pain for him, no more surgeries, no more G.I. bleeds, no more meds, no more watching from the sidelines because he's not able to participate. No more being left out because he doesn't fit in. We long for the day of healing. The Not Yet. We hold on to hope that the Not Yet will become the Now. We hope it is going to be this side of heaven. We don't want to hear the platitudes about God's purpose in Adam's suffering. It's there, we know it's there, but being told this does not comfort us, it just reminds us that you don't know the whys anymore than we know the whys. And I have learned not to ask that question, because there isn't an answer when I do.

So we, at least I, hold on to the hope for the Not Yet. God stopped by today as I was pondering all of this and reminded me that "Faith is the substance of things HOPED for, the EVIDENCE of things not seen. " I'm so glad He did. I really needed the reminder about faith, and what it really is. It isn't something I can stir up, it's something I receive when I hold on tight to Jesus, when I reach out for strength to get through a difficult day, week, month, year. It's there for me when I forget it's there for me, because God is faithful.

Thanks for taking the time to read this post. I'm sorry if it made you sad, but we don't dwell in this place. We visit it from time to time, mostly avoiding it and looking at the good we have. And life is good. We are truly blessed. We just look forward to the fullness of that blessing that is in the hand of God. Don't you? 

Story Time. Any one want a story? If not, don't read this. 😁

Some time ago, last summer, I believe, I was driving and saw a dog running in the middle of the service road on Sunrise highway. I stopped my car. I tried calling to the dog, but it was scared and wouldn't come. A car hit it. I waved at oncoming traffic and tried to get them to stop. They wouldn't. Two more cars hit the dog. Luckily for the dog, it was small, and each time it was hit, it went under the middle of the cars and was tumbled over a few times. 

I tried and tried to get traffic to stop, and finally made advances into the roadway, waving my hands wildly. Someone stopped. Then other stopped. I was able to pick up the poor stunned little chihuahua mix, and get him to the side of the road, and up on the grass. Traffic resumed, and they were flying by so fast. 

NOW WHAT. I went to move my car as it was blocking the side street. When I came back, the dog began to growl and snapped viciously at me. He was so scared, and hurt. I sat down near him, but not too close. Then someone pulled over and stopped. A young black woman got out of the car and wanted to help. I warned her about the dog, and not to get too close. He showed his teeth to make the point. I told her there was a 24 hour vet just west of where we were, and since she didn't want to drive around the block, she RAN down the service road to the office. Unfortunately, they were closed. In the meantime, a young white woman pulled over to help, as did an older black woman. Lots of people were slowing down at this point, but no one else stopped. 

"How can we help?" The older black woman called 911. She couldn't hear the police because of the traffic noise, so she handed me the phone. I gave them my name and the address, and they dispatched an officer and an animal rescue worker. 

While we waited, one of the women sat on the ground with me. I was praying for the dog.

The police came, and then the rescue worker. I explained the situation, and warned the worker to wear gloves to handle the dog. It had calmed down considerably by this time, but was still wary. 

I told them I would drive the dog to the emergency animal hospital, as the worker didn't know where it was and I did. I just asked him to put the dog in one of my large shopping totes, so I would be able to handle him safely. He did, and put him in the car for me. 

They told us all how kind we were. I hugged and thanked every one of my helpers. I prayed for provision, and when I got to the vet, I was told that there's no charge for bringing in an injured animal that isn't mine. I just had to surrender it. 

What's the reason for the story today? 

It illustrates how well people who don't know each other can work together for a common cause or interest. 

1) Sometimes when someone is hurt, the one who causes the pain doesn't care or is too self absorbed to stop and help or take responsibility. 

2) Sometimes when we try to help, the victim is so stunned by their pain that they might let us help, but then turn on us. We need to stay close, but give them space as they work through their pain.

3) Others can and will help, and race doesn't matter.

4) Sometimes we need a professional or someone with different talents to help. 

5) Be grateful for all helpers. Someone may have a solution that you didn't think of. 

6)When we take our eyes off ourselves, we can work well together. 

7)God sends help in many ways. 

Apply this in your own life and situations, and see how often it's been true for you as well. You might be pleasantly surprised.

THE CHILD WHISPERER

She worked in the banking industry for many years. She began as a teller, and was good at figures and balancing her drawer, never short, with few, if any errors. After a short time, she became their teller trainer. From there she moved up to be a manager of three branches, and then a vice president.
She had her own clients, and some were there and stayed because of her excellence in customer service. When the bank sold and changed hands and policy, she decided to retire.

One of Jo's friends from the bank had also retired, and was working part time for the local school district. She loved her job because she worked at her convenience; on call for substituting when classroom aides took a day off. Say yes when you want to work and no when you don't. It sounded good to Jo, and she decided to try it.

There's a screening and interview process, and Jo was told she was "overqualified" but they were glad to have her. They didn't know if she'd last because she might be bored. "Bored would be nice", she told them. She was hired after her screening and started working with the younger children, in the classes for children with special needs. The  administration had no need to be concerned; she was far from bored. She was learning many new things. She liked it. A lot. So much so that she rarely said no when they asked her to work. It was so very different than the banking industry; she had not anticipated just how much she would love her new job.

After a couple of weeks, Jo was called to the principal's office for a meeting. She couldn't understand why; had she done something wrong and was she was getting detention, she joked. But in reality, she knew what the meeting would be about. They wanted her to work for them full time in one particular class. The children there are all on the Autism spectrum, and she was a perfect fit for their classroom. She was kind and patient. She didn't get upset or lose her temper when difficult things happened in the room. And she made a difference in the overall climate of the room. The children worked well with her and liked her. She thought about the job offer and decided to accept. Everyone was happy about that; she was a welcome addition to the team.

Recently, there was a very difficult day for everyone. All the children were out of sorts. Some were "melting down". Some were yelling, some generally uncooperative. For one boy, it was just too much, and he was lying on the floor and refusing to get up. For twenty minutes. He was over stimulated and had simply gotten to the melting point and refused any help or intervention. Jo sat by him and talked quietly with him, and when he was unable to deal with that as well, she began to pray.

After a time, a wonderful peace descended on the room; the children began to settle down. The child on the floor decided to get up. Jo told me that it was "thick in there; I don't know how else to describe it". I knew exactly what she meant. Sometimes the Presence of the Lord comes so strongly when we pray that it really does feel thick; like honey, is how I describe it. His Presence is sweet and powerful, peaceful and strong. I love it. Apparently, so did the children in her classroom. I often say that many in our special needs community know God in ways that we can't begin to imagine; that they're in touch with Him in ways we don't know because He stays close and they're so sensitive in so many ways that they just know Him. It's quite remarkable when you begin to see this. It completely changes your perspective on spiritual matters with them. I've begun to expect to see them move in things of the Spirit of God. Jo does too.

When things had calmed down in the classroom and order had been restored, one of Jo's co-workers walked over to her and softly said, "You're the Child Whisperer." Indeed she is.

God stopped by and brought His peace in the midst of chaos because one of His children stopped to pray. And pray. And pray until something happened.  Isn't He so good?

Yesterday I was shopping, and as I was leaving the store, I was stopped by one of the guys who was selling home improvements. I stopped to listen even though we don't need anything, and if we did, Paul would do most of it himself or hire one of our friends. I let the guy go through his talking points, and even though I kept telling him that we didn't need anything, and that my husband wouldn't let them come for the free estimate, he kept talking. I was very patient. I let him try again. and again. He tried once again and then I said to him; "Nope. Now it's my turn." He just stopped talking and looked at me. He didn't know what to say for a moment.
I asked him his name, to be sure I had gotten it right, and he asked me for mine. Then I asked him how he was feeling, and he said he was fine. Back okay? Yeah, so far. I told him not to say that and to just expect the best. He smiled. Then I asked about his job and where he wanted to go, was he in school, did he want more than what he was doing now, and he said he really liked the company and planned to stay with them and wanted and go further. I offered to pray for him, and he said sure. And then I asked him if he knew Jesus. He said he did. I started to pray for him and mentioned the name of Jesus, and asked God to bless him.  He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Then he said that he didn't really know Jesus, and was raised Muslim. He said that he knew about Jesus, and that his girlfriend talked about Jesus all the time. He said he wasn't really any faith, that he was more of an Agnostic. 
So I told him a bit about who Jesus is, that He is God's son, and that he is God. And I told him that Jesus loves him and died for his sins, and for the sin of all people. When I did this, I could see that it hit him in his spirit. He actually kind of drew himself up and back a bit, but was totally engaged with what I was saying. I told him that there is a heaven, and that Jesus made the way for us to go there. He said that he had never heard that before. So I said that it's because no other religion has a God who would die for them to make a way for them to heaven and himself. We talked a little bit more, but I had to leave as it was almost time for Adam to get home. 
Then, as I was leaving the store, there was a  young man at the door. He was checking receipts to make sure you had everything you paid for. He was very friendly and happy. I asked a few questions, and he told me about his girlfriend, and that they were only dating for a few months, but that it felt like they had known each other for years. He said they were so happy together.  I asked a few more questions, and he said that they had already talked about marriage, and wasn't that crazy. I didn't think so, and told him that sometimes you know right away. He protested a bit and said that he was still in college, has lots ahead of him, and I agreed, but said that didn't mean she isn't the one. It just means not yet. I made a few attempts to offer to pray for him, but he was so in love he couldn't hear me. 
So, another time for him. It's all in God's timing, isn't it? 

I left the store and headed home. I asked the Lord to please let me get home before Adam. I thanked him for the time I spent with these two young men, and asked him to speak to them. I asked him to reveal himself in dreams and visions to the first one. I believe he will. I got home about five minutes before Adam did. 

I had just brought two bags of groceries into the house when Adam's bus arrived. And they were early. Isn't God so good? I got to talk about Him with someone who had no idea of how good He is, and still got home in time for early Adam. Please say a prayer for these young men; and that I will see them the next time I shop at this store.

Divine Appointments

Two weeks ago, after church, we were going to be at our daughter's home for dinner. I went home, dropped off Adam and fed everyone lunch, and left for the store to get dessert. I said I would be right back. An hour later, I finally made it. I had a few unexpected appointments to keep.

As I turned the corner and passed the local McDonald's, I saw a man take the cover off the garbage can and start digging through it. I can't even explain how I felt. I turned the next corner and pulled into the parking lot, intending to give him a couple of dollars. Before I could call him over to my car(he was starting to move away, the Lord said, "Give him ten." So I dug through the bills in my wallet and found a ten dollar bill as I was calling to him to come over. My heart was hurting as I watched him come closer.
His clothes were rags and his hair was long and severely matted. I knew he was homeless, and I wondered how long he was living on the streets. I had never seem him before. As he came up to the car, I handed him the money, and he smiled a giant smile at me. He had a slice of lime between his teeth (which I knew he had found as he rummaged through the can because I saw him put it into his mouth), but that didn't hide the happiness at all. He didn't really speak, just nodded and made some happy sounds. He took the money and turned away quickly, looking to the people in the drive up line who might have something for him. I saw a woman hand him some change. He was moving quickly and I prayed he'd find a place to live, and that I would see him again. I drove on to the store.

As I got out of my car, I saw a woman talking to someone in one of the handicapped parking spaces. She walked away, and the woman in the car was looking down at the ground and seemed very confused. I went over to ask if she needed some help. She was parked in the striped space, which indicated the unloading zone for wheelchair vans. She told me that the other woman had told her she couldn't park there, and this poor lady couldn't understand why. After several explanations on my part about the faded lines, she finally told me that the woman had said she couldn't park there at all because it was for vans only. That isn't true, and I told her so. I have handicapped parking privileges for my grandson, and I know it is just a courtesy to leave it for vans. She needed parking and the other lanes were all full. People are so unhelpful sometimes. However, she did need to move into the designated space in order to avoid a ticked, because the lined spaces at not for parking. As I helped her to reposition her can, a truck came rushing up to get into the space. I stopped him and told him this lady was parking there, and he didn't have a permit anyway. So he backed up and into a space in the lanes across from us.

I stood at the car chatting with the woman, and she and I had church. She shared with me, I shared with her, and we praised God. She insisted on giving me a gift. She had two beaded necklaces in the car and insisted that I must have one of them. I tried to decline, but she wouldn't hear of it, so I chose one and thanked her. As we were finishing out conversation, a man came up to the truck parked next to her(the one who had tried to take her spot had moved next to her at this point) and was cursing and slammed the driver's side mirror on the truck. I asked "What did you do that for?" and he was screaming that the driver had backed into his SUV. Joan and I both told him that we were there the whole time, and didn't see that at all. He insisted and drove angrily away, and we prayed for him and his wife, who looked very uneasy. Joan (for she had told me her name by this time) took down his license plate number, and then we walked into the store together. She felt it was important to give the plate number to the driver of the truck, but we didn't see him. I hugged her and left her to do my own shopping and get home, as I was already late.

When I came out of the store, the driver of the truck and his son were getting ready to leave, so I told them what had happened. I could tell he was intoxicated. A woman came over and accused him of hitting her car, said there were witnesses and was quite upset. He became rather aggressive with her, and tried to drive away. She, another woman and I all kept talking to him and trying to keep him from leaving. Other cars were trying to get through, so this guy couldn't leave. He really had hit her car, and he knew it. Her car had white paint all over the damage, and his truck had blue paint on it from her car. We all stuck it out until he reluctantly gave her his insurance info, and then left. The woman thanked all who stayed around to help her, and then we all left.

This was a most unusual afternoon. I often smile at and speak with people I've never met, but this is truly the first time it was such an intense experience.

The next week, I ran into Joan again, at a different grocery store. I went up to her car and introduced myself to her again. She remembered me but had forgotten where we met. We chatted for a few minutes and exchanged phone numbers. We're both wondering what God has in mind for us; we think He orchestrated our meeting and are looking to see why He did.

I'm praying for the man at McDonald's. I haven't seen him again, and I'm hoping he finds someplace safe to stay, and gets enough food to eat. I feel like I should have maybe parked my car and spent some time with him instead of just giving him money for food. Maybe we'll meet again one day.

All this is in response to a prayer of my heart that I'll make a difference when I see something happening that isn't right. God answered in a very unexpected way on a very regular day.

I Worked On This Before, But I Just Can't Finish It

 I have found that raising typically developing children has many challenges; raising a child with challenges has changed me more than raising my three girls ever did. Adam has shown me "Jesus with skin on" better than anyone else I have met. He loves unconditionally and does it so well. He will forget your name but never forget you. He will ask you the same thing over and over again, but never get mad at you for reminding him that he just asked you that.  When he does this, he is either not able to process your response, or he's stuck in a loop and can't escape it. He doesn't hold it against you when YOU can't remember that HE can't remember that he asked you that already. He doesn't resent you when he asks you your name and you tell him, "You know my name." He does get upset though, because he doesn't know and that's why he asked you.
 He lives with pain and mostly doesn't complain. He has multiple surgeries and doesn't hate the doctor that cuts into his body so often. In fact, he loves him. Our beautiful special needs children are indeed a testimony to the darkness that there is a Kingdom of Love, and a few of its residents live and  love and battle from the time they're born to bring the light of that Kingdom to the earth. 
I think I'm done tonight. This is a sensitive spot and I think you get the gist of what I'm saying. No need to press any further. 

RIP CURRENT

I woke up early this morning, about an hour before I had set my alarm clock to jar me back to consciousness. I was lying in my bed and praying before getting up to join in on an early morning prayer call. I remembered a time when I was swimming and got caught in a rip current. I began to feel fear creep over me, but I prayed and refused it. That experience was twenty five years ago; why would I let it bother me now? I wouldn't.
 Have you ever gone swimming and been caught in a rip current? It can be a frightening experience. Many years ago I lived in Florida for a short time. I didn't know many people, and so, when my children went to school, I often went to the beach by myself. I always stick to the "Don't swim alone" guidelines, so when I went in the water, I would always talk to someone near me, and keep sight and awareness of them so I would have a "buddy" in case I needed one.
One afternoon, I went in the water and there was a man swimming nearby. We chatted briefly; it was a beautiful day and the water temperature was perfect. The sun was glistening on the waves. A perfect time to float around and enjoy the surf. I swam out to a distance that I knew was far enough for me; I floated and swam around for a while, keeping my eyes on the shore and my swim buddy.
After a while, I was a little tired of swimming, so I floated before starting back to shore. I rested for a few moments, flipped over and looked again; I had drifted further away from shore than I realized. I wasn't really worried as I was a strong swimmer, but I was much further out than I had been before I started to float. I headed back to shore. I was quite far from my swim buddy and I was a little nervous. How could I have drifted such a distance in such a short amount of time?
I began swimming with long, strong strokes. I checked again and saw that I was even further away than before I had started back. Now I was getting frightened. My swim buddy was far away and looked SMALL. No matter how hard I swam, I couldn't get closer to shore, and was actually being drawn further away. I didn't understand what was happening.
I thought of myself drowning and my children being left to grow up without me. There was a lifeguard on the shore, but I don't think he saw me and I didn't wave or yell for help; I didn't think he'd hear me and I needed to save my strength for swimming. I prayed to the Lord as I struggled against the tide.
Then I decided to swim parallel to the beach. I turned south and swam as hard as I could. I was able to make progress and to get closer to the shore after I had swum a few yards. I kept going and finally made it far enough in that I could stand. I was exhausted. I walked out of the water and sat on the sand for a few minutes to catch my breath. Then I walked back up the beach to where my things were.  I had probably drifted a quarter of a mile or more before I was able to get out of the water. I saw my swim buddy and he said "Hey! There you are! I was worried but then I saw you swimming so I  knew you were okay. You were really far out there! " I just laughed and said "Yeah, I was. Thanks for watching for me."
Some time later I learned that what I experienced was a rip current. I was watching a program on water safety, and discovered that what I had done as I was caught in the current was exactly what you need to do if you get trapped in one and can't escape. It's impossible to swim straight to shore and break free; you have to swim parallel and come in to shore gradually until you're past the beginning of that current. You can say it was instinct, but I know it was the Lord who gave me wisdom that I needed for the crisis I was in.
I feel that this morning, the Lord was showing me how easy it can be to drift into fear. We aren't paying attention, we're just floating along, and something unexpectedly draws us into a mindset that we weren't prepared for. It catches us by surprise, and instead of swimming away from it, we've let ourselves get caught in a powerful current. It can be overwhelming and we don't know what to do. I want to encourage anyone who's caught to call out to Jesus. He can give you wisdom to deal with your fear, wisdom on how to get free. He is your safety net, your peace. He can bring you to restful waters, where you can get back on your feet and gain strength again. He will teach you how to stay free if you will get your focus on him and keep it there. Just as he gave me wisdom to swim with the tide instead of against it, he'll show you how to swim free of fear. I wasn't afraid of being in the deep water, I was afraid of being swept away by forces that were too strong for me. In the same way, I'm not afraid to be in the depths of God, but I'm also not afraid of strong currents from the enemy or just life situations that try to drown me. I know who my Redeemer is, and that he will get me out of the most powerful tide of oppression if I reach out for him. I'm reminded of Peter, who walked on the water with the Jesus, but then looked at the waves and began to sink. He got his eyes on his situation and forgot the Lord. When he cried out, Jesus saved him. Just like you and me. We get our eyes off the Lord and onto the things that frighten us. If we cry out, like Peter did, he will rescue us and ask us why we doubted. And then give us another chance to start over, and everything we need to begin again and to succeed and do well.


I'm trusting Jesus today. As a matter of fact, I'm trusting Jesus for every day. God stopped by this morning and reminded me of how easy it is to get off track so that I could share my story, and maybe encourage someone else to look away from fear and look to him for wisdom and courage. May God bless you with his presence today.

MY THOUGHTS FOR TODAY

I am an American. I am not a Republican. I am not a Democrat. I am not a Tea Partier. I am not an Anarchist. I do vote. My heritage is French, Irish, English, Dutch, Scottish, Spanish, and Native American. I consider myself to be a patriot. I love my country. My father's people came here on the Mayflower. My lineage can be traced to the Revolutionary War on both sides; warriors from both sides fought for freedom.
On the outside, my skin is beige, my eyes are green, my hair is brown. (well, mostly; it's a bit silver too) On the inside, my blood is red, I have two lungs, two kidneys, one heart, and lots of other stuff that is the same color as every other person on earth. That's my body.


 I also have a soul. I feel, think, and make decisions with my soul. Other people do the same.


 I also have a spirit. My spirit has no earthly color, but it is full of light and bears the colors of heaven.


 I have a Father who said that I'm made in his image and likeness, and he said you are too. So what does that mean? Well, it doesn't mean that God is beige. He also isn't black, brown, red, or yellow. We all look like our Father on the inside, in the deepest place of who we are. As proud as I am of my earthly heritage, I'm so much more blessed to know that my heavenly Father loves me, and that I'm a citizen there first, before I am a citizen here. So are you. And yes, he does see our color. As a matter of fact, he loves the variety. That's why he made us so different from each other. Maybe we can begin to see ourselves in the light of his love for us. Maybe we can take a breath and try again to love the way he loves. Maybe we can stop listening to the t.v., the radio, and all the angry ones who stir up trouble, and get on God's side of the troubles our world is facing. Maybe we can listen to him and get an original thought about how we can change things instead of repeating what so and so has to say. Maybe we can even love one another as he has loved us; after all, it cost him plenty. It cost the life of Jesus. One who laid down his life for a friend. You. Me. He calls us friends.  He died for us, and before he did, he prayed, "Father, make them one, just as you and I are one." This is the prayer of Jesus for the world. This is my prayer. May it be yours too.

THERE WERE TWO BROTHERS........

Many times, there are battles between family members. Sometimes the war goes on for so long, that the combatants forget what started it. I think there's an old offense, an ancient one at that, which affects the whole world, and it continues to this day. This is between two brothers and their children.

In the Old Testament, there was a father named Abraham. His is a story of a faithful servant of the LORD God. He had many failings along the timeline of his life, but he is mentioned in the New Testament as faithful. "By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he we out not knowing where he was going." Hebrews 11:8 ESV  "Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore." Hebrews 11:12 ESV Other acts of his faithfulness are also mentioned in this chapter. And also that his descendants would be named through Isaac. This was the plan and purpose of the LORD, and the Jewish people are his descendants and live all over the world. But their homeland is the nation of Israel.

There is another child of Abraham, his firstborn son, and his name is Ishmael. He too is the father of many and of a nation. He also has a prophetic word spoken about him by God. We find this in the book of Genesis. When Hagar his mother was cast out, and feared for the life of her child, the angel of the LORD found her and spoke encouragement to her, and that her son would be called Ishmael, which means God hears. The word to her was that he would be "a wild donkey of a man, that his hand would be against everyone, and everyone's hand against him, and he will live in hostility toward all his brothers." Genesis 16:12 NIV

If you follow this simple line of thought, you can see that we still live with the anger of this rejected son of Abraham, and his hand is against his younger brother to this very day. At this writing, the hostility between them has increased once again, but it presents as a battle over territory and a conflict of religions. The root is sibling rivalry taken to the nth degree.

For nearly four years I have been sitting on this revelation from the LORD. I have shared it here and there, but have believed that I need to write about it and share what I have learned with anyone who cares to hear what I have to say. I am beginning to do this now. Why is it important? Because I believe there needs to be a new way of looking at this and praying for these brothers. The LORD Jesus is returning soon and these families are to be part of the Kingdom of God. Those who know him now need to be able to share his love with those who don't, including the children of Isaac and Ishmael.

Four years ago, I was frequently hearing these words spoken; "I am the elder brother", and not knowing where it came from or why I was hearing it.  I sought the Lord for the answer, but didn't hear one. On a morning as I was preparing for my weekly prayer meeting, and praying for the presence of the Lord to be with us, I began praying about Abraham. He had been on my mind a great deal over the previous few weeks, and I was probing the waters for understanding.  "Lord, I mean no disrespect to you or to Abraham, but if he had waited for the fulfillment of your word to him, Ishmael would not have been born and there would not be the turmoil in the Middle East that there is now." I felt the presence of the LORD increase and he said to me " Ishmael is the elder brother in the story of the prodigal son."

I stopped pacing back and forth. "WHAT? Was that really you?" He answered "Yes. Ishmael is the elder brother." I was completely blown away by what I had heard. I also knew it was true.

Much has been written and taught about this parable, I don't disagree with any of it, nor do I think that what I have heard as a revelation from the Lord should replace what the scholars have written about for many generations. I am simply sharing something God said to me to provoke me to prayer and sharing and writing.

There is much more that I could share, and perhaps I will in subsequent posts or a small book, but I feel that I needed to begin to share my truth in this time, and not in the years it could take me to publish a book. Prayer is needed now.

What the LORD showed me about the parable is that it is unresolved. We don't know if the elder brother ever returns; we don't learn if the family was ever reconciled to each other.  This is the situation in the Middle East to this day. The brothers are not reconciled. The Jews and the Arabs are brothers. They both claim Abraham as their father. The book of Genesis tells us something  that is very interesting; Ishmael and Isaac come together to bury their father. (see chapter 25 verse 9) I believe this is significant, very significant to my purpose here; when these brothers bury their father Abraham, it will be because they have seen that they have One Father, the God and Father of us all, and will have accepted his son Jesus, the only Lord and Savior. Our prayers for their reconciliation and salvation could hasten this day.

Please don't stone me for this writing and please pray that the Lord will show you if there's any truth here or not. You don't have to embrace it if you don't want to. Hatred of one nation or the other will never bring about the reconciliation that is so needed; hatred of one nation or the other will never cause you to share the gospel of Jesus with the one you hate. Please pray. Feel free to comment. Please share if this touches you. It broke my heart for them when the Lord showed it to me. May this writing do the same for you.

 

THE MINISTRY OF PRESENCE

Loneliness. Not fitting in. Sickness. Surgery. New baby. Special needs children. Speaking a different language. Sin. Sorrow. Depression. Anxiety. These and a host of other conditions cause people to be separated from their friends, family, co-workers, and church. Too often, the "out-of-sight, out-of-mind" phenomenon happens. You know what that as. We stop thinking about someone we don't see around anymore. They're away too long and we stop trying to connect with them. Or, we don't understand at all what someone else is going through, and we're afraid to try and help. We just don't know how. Different people, different reasons.

Recently, during a time when we were isolated from people because of frequent and lengthy hospitalizations, I had the time to think about this. People would check in and ask if we needed anything, and I would say, "A visit would be nice.", or "Company would be nice." In times like that, company is what I need more than anything else. However, few people seem to understand this. They have a need to serve in some way, and can't seem to see that, well, a visit would be nice!

This is the ministry of Presence; the ability to spend time with someone else, just for the sake of being company during their trouble. I often wonder why so many, myself included, have such a hard time with this. I don't have an easy answer, because I would guess that every situation is different, just as every person is different from every other person. But I bet that at least one reason is that we don't value our own gift of presence to someone else, even if we know how much we want it for ourselves when it's our turn.

Perhaps if we would let ourselves be content to sit and have tea together, or a soda, or water, and just let the other one speak, we would be surprised, at a later date, to find how important that was to the one we sat with. Sometimes it's to just be with the one we visit. Being alone is often lonely and sad. We don't need to have the answers to someone else's problems, we just need to join them in their suffering.

The Ministry of Presence. Not an official ministry of the church; it can't be regulated and it can't be forced. It's a call to love and lay ourselves down for each other.

How about that one who's been missing from your life for a while? Today is the best day to try and  reconnect. Consider this a challenge. And please let me know how things work out.

Love and blessings to my readers today.

A DIVINE APPOINTMENT

Adam was admitted to the hospital in early February for a shunt revision. You can read about this in some of my previous posts. However, during the first few days we were in the hospital, it was especially noisy and nights were frequently being disrupted by patients having meltdowns and by head trauma patients becoming increasingly and loudly confused and combative. There were more Code calls those first few nights than I've ever heard in all the times we've spent in Stony Brook added together. I prayed for each situation, and asked the Father why there was so much going on. It was really so unusual. I also had some very specific nightmares, which is unusual.

I am usually friendly to everyone when I'm there; it makes it so much better when I keep a positive attitude. I try to be pleasant and helpful to other families; you meet each other in the hallways and in the little kitchen area that is available for snacks, coffee and tea. There's a small refrigerator where you can store some food or drinks for yourself, and a rack to return meal trays if you don't want them in your room until the food service worker returns for them. You tend to bump into people when you're in there. It seems silly to not at least say hello, or to chat for a moment if you have the time.

One evening, I went to get some tea. Adam was sound asleep, so I wanted to walk a bit and stretch my legs, and get some tea before I settled in for sleep. I met a man named Joe that night. He was tired and lonely and wanted to chat. His mother had been on the hospital for a couple of weeks, and she wasn't doing very well. He didn't know how much longer she'd be in, but it didn't look like she'd be getting home any time soon. we spoke for a time, and he told me he was praying for all the patients every night while he was there. He told me that he was sending "white healing light" to everyone. The alarms went off inside of me, but I was patient and asked God for a way to address this with him if he was open. We continued to talk, and he mentioned  God and Jesus, and I asked if he knew them. He said that he did. So I asked if Jesus was his savior, and then as ked if he was the Lord, and he replied yes to both questions. So I told him that it wasn't good for him to be praying for "white healing light" to be released for the patients, and when he asked why, I told him that it was a wiccan prayer. He knew what I meant and was upset about it.  I told him that believers pray for healing in Jesus' name and not for white light. Jesus is the only true healing light. I encouraged him to keep praying but to ask Jesus to release healing instead of what he'd been doing. He said he would. We talked for a while longer, and then I asked if I could pray for him. I just started to bless him with the presence of God, and to ask for peace to come to him. I asked God to lift his worry and fears, and to give him joy, and to show Joe how much he loves him. He was laughing and his entire countenance brightened. He told me that he wanted to weep so badly because of how wonderful he felt and how changed he was, but that he was so full of joy that he couldn't cry. He couldn't understand everything that was happening to him, and he thanked me over and over again. He told me that I had changed his life in those few minutes. I assured him that it wasn't me, and that it was the Father, who loves him so much that he caused us to meet that night.

Joe gave me his business card, but first told me that I wouldn't like it. I said I'd take it anyway, and it was covered in skulls and symbols from many different religions. I smiled and told him to get some new ones made up. He said he would. I went back to my room and he went to his. I saw him a few more times that night and the next morning, but his mother went home two days after we met! God's timing is perfect, and perhaps the change in his prayers freed her from what he'd been doing before.

The other wonderful thing that happened was that when Joe stopped praying his prayers, the craziness in the hospital stopped too. The head trauma patients calmed down, and when they did have episodes, they were much less intense, and also quieter. There were still Codes called at different times, but they were much less frequent.

God is everywhere. We aren't always aware of his presence, but present he is. He stopped by in the little kitchen on the eighteenth floor and rocked a man's world. Mine too. But then isn't that some of his best work? How he does surprise me.

Peace and blessing to you today.