And So This is Christmas..?

You've heard that song by John Lennon. Right?

Sure, it goes, "So this is Christmas, what have you done?
Another year over,
A new one just begun.

And so this is Christmas,
I hope you have fun...

As far as secular Christmas songs go, this one's just ok for me. I mean I have my favorites, of course. "All I Want For Christmas is You," and "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" come to mind.  I'm sure you have your favorites too. Then again maybe you're a huge Lennon fan and you love this song. I do like the chorus at the end though. "A Merry, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year..!" ..and so on.

But as talented as I think John was, he sort of lost me in the first verse of this one because of those darn lyrics.

Christmas isn't about anything we've done. Its all about what God has done! It's a celebration...a commemoration and a time of reflection on the single most epic event that ever happened on earth! It's actually the biggest birthday party earth has ever known!

God Himself left His holy home on high to live among us. He came in the second person of the
Trinity, God the Son. He was born of a virgin, as the prophet Isaiah foretold 700 years before. He was fully-God and fully-man. He lived a sinless life of only 33 years, and yet His brief life impacted the world as no other man who ever lived.

He was the exact likeness of His Father, as the Scriptures say. He even told us, "If you have seen Me, you have seen the Father."

(No man has seen God the Father, by the way. He never leaves His jaw-dropping throne described in the book of Ezekiel, the first chapter)

Jesus always knew exactly why He was here. He never deviated from His mission...The cross. He had saving His people on His mind, every single minute of every single day, until His time had come.

He taught. He ministered. He healed. He performed miracles. He admonished. He astounded. He
loved. He judged. He prayed--keeping open, continuous dialogue with His Father. Yet, He talked
back to the religious leaders of His day...and He lavishly loved His own.

He and only He, fulfilled every single Old Testament prophecy written about Him~Jesus, The Christ, The Messiah. Staggering odds.

But why? Why did He come? Why the cross?!

Because God has a problem with us~You and me. All of us.
It goes like this. He's holy and we aren't. We are born physically alive but spiritually dead.
Yes, all of us.
We have a sin nature that we cannot overcome. That sinful nature is bent on displeasing God. It's also incompatible with a holy God and His Dwelling place--heaven. We can't enter that holy place without becoming holy, like Him.

Our sin must be punished, for the "wages of sin is death, and... without the shedding of blood there can be no forgiveness of sins."

So, God the Father sent God the Son to live a sinless, perfect life. He became the Lamb of God, Who takes away our sins... the once-for-all-time sacrifice for all who trust in Him...and when we trust Him and confess Him as Lord, we are given the Holy Spirit to live within us.

Jesus came at the time appointed by God the Father. Jesus was brutally beaten and nailed to a cross, where my sins were placed upon Him. So were yours, if you've trusted Him as your Savior. Yes, He took the punishment we deserved.

The great exchange.

He died and was placed in a tomb, but when He had paid for every sin, the grave could no longer contain Him! Otherwise, He'd still be there! He arose, alive and well, in a beautiful, glorified body! (Like we'll have one day!)
He lives forever and ever--the first of all of us who will be raised!

I met Him when I was just 12 years old. Something miraculous happened to me that day.
He made Himself known to me, as someone shared the Gospel with me.

I understood Who He is and why He came. I knew I needed Him and I prayed that He'd forgive me and be my Savior.
Immediately, He sent His Holy Spirit to live inside of me. Tears of joy and freedom flowed down my face... I have never been the same. That Spirit is 'the guarantee and the deposit of all His promises to come.' He is the third Person of the Trinity and He provides comfort and truth to my spirit.

At that moment, I became spiritually alive, and I know I will be with Him when I leave this earth!

What if we could really grasp the enormity of it all?
I believe we'd spend less time shopping and schlepping and stressing at Christmastime and more time on our faces before Him, crying out with the heavenly host, "Holy, Holy Holy! Is the Lord God Almighty!"

To think it began with the baby, born to a young maiden, in a stable for the stable animals to witness. The majestic star in the sky that night pointed the way to the greatest birth that has ever happened on our planet. A couple of shepherds came, with their sheep in tow. Eventually some wise men came from far away places...

But mostly, people missed it. They missed the birth of the One, True, Holy, Righteous God into our difficult, hostile and very sinful world....so that we could be in a saving relationship with Him, just as He had wanted from the beginning.

And so this is Christmas.
I've done nothing at all.
Yes, this is Christmas
for big and for small.
(Ok, I'm not a songwriter..!)

I pray for the greatest Christmas miracle of all for you this Christmas..."that you may know Him and the power of His resurrection..."
God Bless You my friends xx
Merry Christmas!

Taco Prince

It's not The Taco Prince. I'm not talking about a guy with a taco crown on his head!

Taco Prince is a restaurant...of sorts. You wouldn't dress up to go there... You probably wouldn't even go out of your way to eat there... Ok, it's a dive, really. You know, a local hole in the wall, owned by a handful of Peruvian guys, who make some of the best tacos around. They're not Americanized tacos, but more like what you get in South America...which makes sense, I suppose! I love the place, but let's just say accessibility isn't their forté. (Cue eye-roll)

Located in the old Dairy Queen building, in downtown Boca, Taco Prince has had limited updating since it was built, somewhere around 1970. It's probably one of the few remaining original buildings left in downtown Boca. So when my daughter and I decided to have lunch there, we shouldn't have been surprised at what happened, and yet we were!

The blue-tag parking space was an afterthought located in the back, very far away from the entrance! It was squished between 2 regular spaces, in front of a very old beauty shop, which had also seen a better day! We struggled to get my equipment out of the van.
But, we persevered!
We might've mumbled some expletives, but we persevered! The parking lot was predictably lame...and somewhat dangerous for me, really. There was no wheelchair path and the cars were literally jammed in. We tried to weave our way around the parked vehicles the best we could. We had our game faces on!

Approaching the tiny building, we noticed a ramp. 'Oh good!' I thought and started rolling toward it.

"Don't bother, mom!" Kristin yelled back at me.

She was a bit ahead of me now, scoping out the entrance. "It's the ramp to nowhere! Don't come this way! It drops off!"
A smile made its way to my lips...
She was laughing. Sure enough, there was a 2 foot drop off where the 'ramp' just ended. ...Why? I could only wonder. I shook my head.

We had seen this before. We've seen lots of crazy things before and we have learned to keep our sense of humor intact! I wondered how many rollers had been fooled into going up the ramp only to back down the same way they had come..!

It was only one small step up onto the sidewalk. Kristin helped me pop a wheelie.
"Oh my gosh.. Look!"  She sounded incredulous as she pointed at the front door.

Two steps were between us and our tacos!! Yep. Two steps up don't work for me. We just looked at each other! We might've rolled our eyes...again. Ok, we did.
Now what? We discussed our next move.

At some point, I noticed a small sign on the door that read, "Ramp available at cashier"

I read it to BB. (Kristin's nickname)  Whaaaa?  We have to go in and ask for a ramp?? What if I were alone? Is this a joke? All this for a couple of tacos..? My tiny brain swirled with the silliness of the situation.

"Mommy, I'll go in and ask for the ramp!"
I peered into the restaurant through the glass door.

It was then that I noticed the patrons and the employees of the restaurant had noticed us...All of them were staring back! BB waved at the guys behind the counter. They ran to the back room and came out with a huge box! Their eyes were big and they looked very serious, frightened, even. I was amused, but also felt a little sorry for them. Clearly, they knew their little business was in violation of some law.

As they started to unpack the ramp, my eyes got big. This ramp was 20 feet long! We were only about 6 feet off  Federal Highway! I was going to be out in the middle of the road in order to get into the taco joint! Oy vey!
Let's just say my friends at Taco Prince had gotten a little carried away with their purchase of a 'portable ramp' for their restaurant. The requirement was maybe a 3 foot ramp.

By now, BB had the front door open and was desperately trying to get me inside. We were determined. We struggled. The counter guys had bailed on us. We continued making a commotion and drawing attention to ourselves!

About this time, we could see that we were the only women in the place. Yep, the only females in this packed little space, filled with, you got it, construction workers who began cursing at the poor employees of the restaurant. (But didn't offer to help us into the place, by the way!)  Talk about awkward!! All we could do was keep our heads down and try to keep from laughing...! I mean, we couldn't help it! This was too much..!

My sweet, determined daughter gritted her teeth and struggled up those 2 steps until we were both inside. In case you don't know how that's done, you turn the wheelchair backwards and pull it up each step. Neither of us weighs very much but she is weakened from the disease herself. I hated it, but she just carried on!

When I say that every eye in that place was on us, I am not exaggerating. Part of me wanted to crawl away as fast as I could go.. which isn't very far or very fast at all, of course! We seated ourselves at the last 2 remaining seats in the front, at the bar, which faced the street. We fought to wedge my chair out of the way so I could transfer to a barstool. It made plenty of noise and I said, "Excuse me," a lot! At least we didn't have to look at the rest of the restaurant once we finally did get settled! We stared out into the street and talked about what had just happened in disbelief. Our shoulders shook with laughter.

Eventually, BB squared her shoulders and went up to the counter to order. I swung around slowly. Every man, to a man, watched her. Some of them glanced back at me. I forced a smile. When she returned to sit next to me, we broke out in laughter and we giggled all the way through our tacos. We always have fun, no matter what's going on, and we still talk about that lunch experience. But you know, we haven't been back there. My new scooter doesn't jump steps!

Truth is, there was a time I wouldn't have put myself or my daughter through all of that for anything! Having a 'disability' is a quick lesson on not getting to live under the radar anymore. (Used to be my favorite place to fly)
People look. Some people stare. Sometimes, like lunch at Taco Prince, I give them reason to stare!

But it's ok. It's all ok. Having muscle weakness and using assistive devices has made me more confident, not less. Who'd have thought that? And my daughter? What can I say? She's amazing.

Peace my friends xx

The Storm

There you are...on your beautiful little sailboat, gliding across the sparkling turquoise sea.. diamonds of light dancing off the sun-filled waves. The horizon is brimming with the promise of golden sunshine. You imagine the few passing clouds as your friends, puffy and white. They disappear quickly while the water passes effortlessly by your boat. Seagulls and pelicans fill their gullets every sunrise and sunset. It's a joy and privilege to behold! Family and friends cheer you on as the shoreline always remains in sight. You bask in the life you've built and come to love, with the help and blessing of God...

Every now and then you lean down to let the warm water caress your fingers...You close your eyes. Mmmmmmmmm...This boat practically sails itself. The breeze is steady. Your sails stay full and you just keep moving along, as if on air. Comfort, security, love. This is the only boat you've ever sailed...the only boat you have ever needed. It's your boat and she's a beauty. These waters, they're the only beautiful, tropical waters you've ever known. They're yours. You own them...

Or so I thought.

A more experienced sailor sees the storm clouds approaching and knows what to expect.

I, on the other hand, had never seen clouds, let alone clouds like these. To say I was caught completely off-guard would be a gross understatement.

When the first cloud appeared, I shouldn't have assumed it was just an isolated cloud... a job loss with some financial setbacks. Surprising and unexpected, yes, but I prayed and trusted God to handle it. Very soon, however, another cloud, a darker one, came to join it and clung stubbornly to the first. I
looked up and wondered, "God, what's going on?"
Silence.

Yes, God became very quiet.

Still the clouds persisted in a steady procession toward my boat. Was this a storm? I had never seen this sky before. The wind picked up. My boat began to dip up and down in the now steadily rolling waters. My heart sank. A sense of fear and sadness spread over me.
"Lord, what is happening?"

By the day my diagnosis arrived, my head was nearly engulfed by clouds of varying degrees of gray, ranging from gray-gray to charcoal. I could barely make out the outline of my bow, let alone the shoreline. Thick waves of smoke-like clouds began billowing all around me. The sea was churning that day as I sat in my Beetle in the doctor's parking lot, sobbing loudly. I glanced around...noticing I was alone now.

The dipping of my boat began to give way to some serious rocking. The waves swelled and broke
over the bow. The rudder and tiller no longer responded. Adrift, I was at a loss, helpless to navigate, barely able to hang on. What was that? New fear, like I had never known. You might call it terror.

Unable to find a bird or star now, I couldn't see the angry water anymore. How long had it been since
I had located the horizon? I couldn't recall. The lightning and thunder never stopped. I was scared to death. The noises awakened me in the night. I would pray for them to stop.
They didn't.

When the hailstones hit, I knew I couldn't survive. I couldn't duck fast enough. The loss of the
business now.. More money gone. My daughter's diagnosis. Another daughter run down in the street by a drunk driver...

'What? Is this real?'
"I can't take anymore. When will it end..? Please, God...! Please!"

The perfect storm continued pounding me. My muscles failed. The ER was becoming familiar now.

Aware of what was going on around me, but unable to cope, I faked it through each day. Very alone, isolated and lonely, I remained terrified, as the darkest clouds and strongest winds overwhelmed me. Nightmares accompanied me in the wee hours, along with something new, panic attacks. The waves pounded relentlessly while the hail pelted.
I knew my once safe and beautiful boat was about to capsize.
"Please make it stop!" ...I repeated this prayer thousands of times in the 3 years of the perfect storm.

"God, are you still there? Where have you gone? Why did you leave?  Jesus...?
.....But that wind just swept up my words and carried them off to nowhere...

My head recalled the Scriptures but my heart could not discern Him...and my ear could not hear Him. It was hard to pray. Without Him, my heart began to despair.

I began a new strategy for survival. Each day I counted the hours I was forced to be awake...15!  Fifteen hours until I could go back to bed... If I took enough of the right pills, at the right time, I'd sleep through the night.
This was my 'life.'

"Just tell me everything's going to be ok. Someone, Please!?"
But no one did.

I'd have done anything for safe anchorage. A harbor. A dock. A buoy. Anything.
I called out faintly to others, but they couldn't hear me.

They didn't live in the storm.
They had no idea that this storm was wiping me out.

I'm not sure when it happened, but I recall being aware that my boat had simply vanished. Gone. I tried, desperately, to find it. It was nowhere to be found. What happened? When was I left alone to tread water out here? (Did I abandon ship? Or did I capsize?)

If I could just get back to my beautiful boat!

It was back there somewhere, along with my calm, warm, turquoise waters and the familiar feel of my boat gliding across the sea. I kept reaching back, with all the strength I had left in me. 'It's back there. I know it is!'

"I will never leave you, nor forsake you."
'Are you sure about that, God? Because it sure feels like you're gone.'
To me, at that time, if it felt like He was gone, He might as well be gone.

My relationship with God was in some kind of dramatic transition, suspended indefinitely, as far as I
knew. Was He ever coming back? Could I cling to what I knew to be true from His Word or would I
succumb to the power of this tumultuous storm without His fellowship?

People were also gone--relationships with them. They just left. My home was gone. My neighbors too. People I had loved.. My health was gone. The money was gone. The job I enjoyed and found so rewarding was gone. The hedge of blessing surrounding me was also gone. I was left exposed and broken. My hope and optimism had slipped deep beneath the deluge that had overtaken me.

Hurting and desperate, I did not know how to do this life.

I wasn't the first Believer who ever wanted to die, you know. Not even close.

I knew I wasn't being attacked by God. Or judged. Or cursed, or anything like that. Thankfully I had studied the Word of God. I knew it and I knew God. He and I had been friends since I was 12 years
old. For that reason, I never thought, 'Why me?' I only wondered how life would ever make sense again and if God would return. I missed Him and I told Him so... A lot.
I asked Him what purpose He could possibly have for me in all of it.

Somewhere through the darkness of night, in the confusion of that tempest, I had lost hope.
Once that horizon was gone, so was my future. Now, I just wanted relief from the pain and terror.

So I ask you now, 'Is it possible for a "true follower" of Christ to lose hope?'

Yes, I assure you it is. My ordeal was the perfect storm of circumstances to produce hopelessness. The constant pounding of the waves, the darkness, the lightning, thunder and hailstones came together at just the right time, in just the right way, to take me under.

And so, like other believers who have gone before me, I didn't want to go on. And all of these are Hall of Famers...
Moses asked God to just 'go ahead and kill him.' Job rued the day he was born and then wondered why death eluded those who suffer. King David suffered from depression and thought God had forsaken him. Jesus did too. Me too.

Elijah laid himself down under a bush, wanting to die...in 1 Kings 19:3-4

"Elijah was afraid and fled for his life...Then he went on alone into the wilderness, traveling all day. He sat down under a broom tree and prayed that he might die."
I have also prayed that prayer.

Then there's Jonah. After all his great ordeal with that fish, he still told God he wished he were dead!
Like these great heroes of the faith, I told God the very same thing. Maybe you have too. I hope you have not suffered guilt at the hands of another Christian for your depression or suicidal thoughts, my friend.

See this link for an interesting article on Biblical characters who were tired of it and wanted to leave earth:
http://www.revelation.co/2011/07/16/god-please-kill-me-now-i-wish-i-was-never-born-do-you-ever-
feel-like-dying/

Taking it a step further, I gave thought to helping God accomplish my earthly exit. I even gave consideration to how I might get the job done.
After all, I knew I'd be with Jesus. I knew it would be infinitely better and I know it's not an "unpardonable sin."

I have wrestled with the answer as to why I am still here.
I don't know.

Slowly, and over many days, I began to see the sunrises again. They stirred something in me. God sent people I had never known before to minister to my spirit, like the ministering angels He wrote of in Scripture... They loved me and cared for me and spoke truth to me. (See Matt 4:11 and Heb 1:14)
I could talk to them. I know lots of people prayed for me, too. It must've helped.

Otherwise, I just can't say.

Too many precious people have been lost to suicide. They lost sight of the horizon. The pain was too much. Their loved ones also ministered to them. They prayed faithfully and earnestly for them, but they died.
I can't explain it.

They aren't weaker than me. They aren't lesser people than me somehow. It's not like that. They fought. I know they did. Their lives mattered. Their deaths matter. And their loved ones are left to try and make sense of something they can never make sense of.
It's our responsibility to love them like Jesus would, and to tell them that their efforts were heroic. It's not their faults that the people they love are gone.

Robin Williams' death is a particularly sensitive topic for me. He suffered from depression like I did. He was diagnosed with a movement disorder like I was. He couldn't see a future that included him, just like me. The relentless violence of the storm overwhelmed him.
I get it.

As the months have passed, I wake up each morning seeking out the sunrise. We have spectacular ones here in South Florida. Many days, I take pictures of it with my phone to share with my friends. I have found a life that doesn't include counting my waking hours. I don't recall much about gliding along in a pretty sailboat and my view of the beautiful tropical waters are from the shore now. Life can never be the same. That would defeat the purpose of all I've been through, wouldn't it?

I do see a future for myself, again, but it's only as clear as today. After that, the clouds appear, making the picture a fuzzy gray again. My focus is on today. One day at a time. Cliché, yes, but that's all we're given. 24 hours total. 15 hours waking.

I hope that doesn't sound negative, because it's not meant to be. The precious things held in my heart bring me profound joy. They're small by most people's standards. To me, they're everything... The Word of God, His Spirit that speaks to me once again, the moon and stars He holds in the sky, my beautiful family, including pets, a few friends and my beloved beach.

I'm hopeful.
I have hope for today and hope for tomorrow...not in this life necessarily, but absolute hope in the God I serve and the life that is to come.

I'm joyful.
I have a purpose once again and I'm delighted about the things God is doing in my life and the people He gives me to love. If you are part of my life, it's by design. I will love you to the best of my ability. That gives me joy. "They will know that we belong to Him by the way we love one another."

I'm at peace~usually. "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want." He is with me. He is at my side, tending to me. "He makes me to lie down in green pastures." I rest well. He has restored my sense of well-being. He is leading me beside the still waters, everyday. I drink deeply from His well, and I am blessed.

Thank you for reading, my friends. Im glad you're here... And I'm so grateful to be here too. xx

This song became a favorite in my playlist during the storm...
"Paradise" by Coldplay  I hope you enjoy the YouTube!
http://youtu.be/nSLSkRP6X3U

Fear...What Fear?

I think fear is a tricky thing.

I mean, first off there are so many different kinds of fear, so you have to define which type of fear you're even referring to when you talk about fear! Sometimes fears are referred to as phobias. Today there is a phobia for everything. It's a little overwhelming, if you know what I mean.

No wonder God told us not to be afraid so often in Scripture. It's His number one command.
"Fear not. Don't be afraid. Fear not. Have I not told you..? I am with you. You need not be afraid"...and so on. But we still don't get it.

Have you ever been afraid?  I have.

Maybe I've told you this story. If so, forgive me... but I was terrified during my first trip to the E.R 5 years ago. My arms and legs were paralyzed and I was having trouble breathing. The E.R staff didn't seem to get it and one of the nurses dropped me on the floor. She also ignored the fact that my feet wouldn't stay on the wheelchair foot plates, so as she pushed, they kept getting run over. I couldn't speak, so she just kept going. Meanwhile, I fought for every breath. I was sure I was going to die. I could pray, which I did. 

God spared me, but that was the beginning of my battle with fear.

I only want to talk about a couple of the basic types of fear...the ones I've experienced. Otherwise, this article would become a book...and I don't think either of us bargained for that!

The fear of God is a good thing because it means we're in reverential awe of Him. That's important. We need to have the appropriate viewpoint.

If you say, "Well, Ann, I'm not afraid of God," that either means you don't get it, OR it means you
have a solid, loving relationship with Him and you don't need to be afraid, which is the best.

Fear of the Lord brings blessing and benefit! Scripture tells us it is the beginning of wisdom, for example, and it leads to good understanding. (I could use some of that!)

Additionally, fear of the Lord brings abundant life, rest, peace and contentment..all wonderful, healthy things! 

Our grandparents used to refer to themselves as God-fearing people. Sounds like a pretty good thing to me! God desires us to have this type of fear.

Rational fear, like fear of playing in traffic, or fear of a hot stove are also good. It's the same fear that
keeps us from dark alleyways, out of lightning storms and away from alligator infested lakes! This
type of fear teaches us to stay safe. We, in turn, teach our kids to avoid dangers so they can also stay safe. It's healthy, so this can't be the thing God is warning against.

There is another fear. You knew that, right?  There had to be.

It's called the "spirit of fear."  Maybe you're familiar with it. Maybe not. It's possible to be immersed in it and not even know it. It creeps in and takes hold.

The apostle Paul wrote a letter to his young protégé, Timothy, and part of the letter is a warning to Timothy about this fear. In it he said this, "Tim, God hasn't given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self-control." 

Did you catch it? The phrase, 'spirit of fear' is right there in the middle of Paul's statement. But why the warning? What is Paul saying to Timothy?
Sounds to me like this fear is the antithesis of things like power, love and self-control...or at least it is
the thing that will keep us from practicing those things. Yeah, you see, power, love and self-control
are given to us when we are yielded to the Holy Spirit, not given over to fear.

Now fear is part of life on planet earth. The "spirit of fear" Paul warned about is a bit different. This type of fear isn't healthy, but rather, unhealthy.

Did you ever know a person who was consumed by fear...someone who made poor decisions because fear ruled that person's heart?
Yeah, me too.
I mean, I get it.

Our current culture goes to extremes to make sure we get afraid and stay afraid. It's part of the plan, I'm afraid. (Sorry)
Fear is very controlling. If we stay afraid, we abdicate our rights and responsibilities to someone else,like a spouse, parent or the government for example. Make sense? 

Let me put it this way. 

Irrational fear puts us in a position of weakness and prevents us from being responsible, accountable people who are capable of making wise decisions. Yes, this fear is irrational.
See the difference?

So, what's making you afraid?  There are as many reasons to be fearful as there are named phobias these days. No one argues that we live in perilous times. But, we can live with joy and hope in spite of that fact. I do it everyday.

I am not a fearful person. Never have been. I see the glass way more than half-full and I have made
exactly zero decisions in my life from the position of a fearful woman, that is until, yes, you guessed it, five years ago when I had that first paralytic attack. It changed me. When the second one hit, I was as lost as anyone has ever been.

The fear flags were raised and I couldn't see past them.

False. Evidence. Appearing. Real.
Yeah, that's an acronym for the word fear. Maybe you're familiar with it. Some Christian circles use it to try and purge their people of the fears that plague them. 

I never got it.

If we're dealing with the spirit of fear, then we need to read Scripture and talk to God, not memorize some acronym...not to be disrespectful here, but this is important. I'm sure someone thought that would be helpful. It just never resonated with me. As hard as the disease tried to push me under, I fought back the only way I knew how...with my Bible and prayer time. Call me simplistic.

My first acronym.
Stay. In. God's. Word. What does that spell? S-I-G-W.
Oh, shoot, it's not a word.  Read what God has written to you. It's all there...all written down. Ask Him to lead you as you read. You have so much good material to choose from...Genesis to Revelation and that will soothe your fears, dear friends. He'll be speaking directly to you from those pages. With more Bible verses about fear than any other topic, you won't have to read far to find something helpful! Plus, just knowing it's the very God Who hung the stars that wrote to you...well, that's something!!

Ok, how about this acronym.
Stay. Close. To. God.  Let's see S-C-T-G. Nope, that's not a word either...but you get the idea. God wants to hear from you! Talk to Him. He's always available to listen. Ask Him to speak to your heart. He'll do it. He'll calm your fears. Prayer, meditation on His Word, or singing can be great ways to bring yourself into God's Presence. I frequently use all 3. 

I've learned, in recent years, that it is my friendship with the Lord Himself that takes away my fear, and empowers me to stand with courage. Yes, I still feel afraid at times. But feelings, including fearful ones, come and go. They can be fickle. They can be manipulated, thank You Lord!

The truth of God's Word stands forever, "Perfect love casts out fear." There is no perfect love except the love of the One Who created me and loves me forever. Now that makes me smile...
How can I be afraid?

Peace, love and joy my friends xx

Power-Up People!

I got my wheelchair 2 years ago.
At the time, it meant freedom for me...freedom to move about the country! Well, at least the mall, restaurants, theatres and the grocery store.

That would be my manual wheelchair. Those are the ones you have to propel yourself. They have the big wheels with push rims...Lord help me! I can't do that anymore... In fact it's been difficult for me  for awhile now. Because of that, I've needed to be pushed, and that means always having to be escorted when I leave home. Yeah, that doesn't work for me. Plus, it's tough to carry on a conversation when the person you're talking to is behind you!

This one is almost identical to my manual chair.

A few weeks ago, I got my power chairs. Yes, plural. I got 2 of them...scooters to be precise......one for the house and one for my van. You see, constantly transporting a chair back and forth was, well, inconvenient...and difficult for me. I struggle with those kinds of tasks. I'm thankful to be able to have two chairs. They're just alike. One stays put in my van, the other stays home.
But I digress..

Some people have power chairs like this one.

But I have these..MyNew Scooters. See the difference?

The point is, in just 2 years time, I went from needing a manual wheelchair to use in public, to needing a power chair to get around in public and at home! Wow. I'm shaking my head. I couldn't have imagined.

Four years ago, I was diagnosed with muscle disease and just a few months after that I bought a walker-rollator. You know, one of those walkers the old people use with a seat on it so you can sit whenever you need to.. That was a surreal moment. At first, I didn't like joining the ranks of the elderly, using 'their' equipment when I wasn't one of them-yet. But having the right tools in life makes things so much easier, doesn't it? Even if you have to swallow some major pride to do it.

I noticed that I'm moving at a pretty fast clip down a weakening path, here, while fighting hard to maintain my independence. Hence, the equipment. Trust me, you'll do whatever is necessary to to get out and live your life.
You adjust.
And you adjust again,
and then again...

I'm not sure when I'll be done adjusting.

This particular adjustment (the power scooters) include ramps for my house and a lift for my van--a very cool contraption. All I do is push a button on my handy remote control and the lift moves into action lowering my scooter out of the back of my minivan! I drive away like a champ, weaving in and out of foot traffic like I'm competing in a real-life video game! (You knew I'd turn it into a competition!!)

I should've done this months ago. It's fun to go out again. When I see people struggling on their walkers or in their manual wheelchairs, I think to myself, 'Why?'

But that was me! I would try opening doors while laboring to propel myself through the entrance of a building. So frustrating. Now, I grab the door handle, put my chair in reverse and let my scooter do the work!! Yeehaawww!! (I'm quoting my friend Randy McNeil!)

So why not scooter?
It can be expensive, although my scooter costs significantly less than my manual wheelchair. For some, it's a matter of pride, really. Yes, believe it or not, there are degrees of  'cool' in the disabled world. (Oh the stuff I've learned!)

Power wheelchairs are not as cool as manual ones, you see. There are fewer opportunities to compete
in sports in a power chair and you can't do all those crazy tricks. There are no extreme sports
competitions. You're just not as bad a**.

...and scooters!?

Well forget it. Not cool at all. Zero. Zip. Nada. Nothing cool about my scooter.
So whatever my coolness factor was, has ceased to be.
Trust me, I'm not worried. I love it! I love everything about it! It's quick, it's easy, it's nimble, it goes everywhere..and it makes my hair fly back when I go fast!!

Yep, I'll be laughing and having a blast as I fly past you on my scooter!

Peace, love and joy my friends xx

But Do You Know Him?

I'm a Christian.

You've heard that before...from me, from others, from lots of people, in lots of different camps; some religious, some political, others touting social causes. We claim Christianity...and while it may not be as popular as it used to be, you still hear it...everyone from Obama to the Pope claim to be 'Christians.'

I wonder.

What do we know of being a Christian today? Is it a family tradition? Is it a political thing that the Conservatives think they own and Democrats boo? Is it a good deeds club? A feeling we follow? A series of prayers we pray to keep us out of hell? A couple of prayers we pray to keep us out of hell? A single prayer we pray to keep us out of hell?

Listen, I'm having a Muscular Dystrophy day. I've mostly been sleeping since I woke up in pain this morning around 5:00, so writing this was the last thing I expected today. Quite honestly, writing this was not exactly what I had in mind...

But as I lay here, falling asleep a little while ago, praying, I knew the Spirit was impressing upon me to write this. So I asked God if I could do it after I slept, then I asked for the strength to do it when I woke up. This whole article is being written in Supernatural power and energy. Not mine. Just saying.

Knowing and following Christ, i.e., Christianity, is none of the above.
But what is it?

It's not a 'sinners prayer.' (Not a real thing)  It's not an altar call. (Also not real) It's not a series of catechisms or baptisms or any other isms either. It's not classes or lessons or donations or memberships or traditions or social soirées either. Neither is it about Bible study or our so-called knowledge, and how smart we think we are. May God forbid.

Let me begin in the Old Testament because if you don't know it, you've missed it all.
That is where God introduces Himself.
We get to see Him. (You should pause here and run to read it because you want to know the real God)
His Holiness.
His majesty.
His creativity.
His power.
His immeasurable knowledge and wisdom.
His love.
His judgment.
His wrath.
His intolerance for sin.
His truth.
His Justice.
His compassion.
His sovereignty.
His plan.
His salvation.
His anger.
His patience.
His joy.
His peace.
His love for His people.
His love for His Son.
Etc

His attributes are infinite.
I cannot begin to do Him justice...

A lot of the OT points to the advent of the Anointed One. The Christ. Messiah. God's Only Son. We know that the Apostle Paul taught "from morning until evening convincing them about Jesus using the Law of Moses and the Prophets!" (Sounds like he taught them from the OT to me!)
Of course he did.
So did Jesus. It was all the Bible they had!!

Can you just imagine teaching the crowds about Messiah from the ancient text, which is so perfectly written, that you can then point to yourself and say, "Here I am folks!!?
I love that!

The apostle John wrote this:
"This is eternal life:  that they know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent."
John 17:3

Boom! There it is! Know--that's our word.

Knowing about Him makes you a historian.

Knowing Him makes you a Christian.

What about you? Maybe you pray. You know John 3:16 and sing in the choir. You go to church, pass
out tracts, call yourself a Christian and vote Republican. You were baptized as a baby. And confirmed.
Hang on.

Jesus said this, "Not everyone who calls out to Me,  'Lord, Lord,' will enter the Kingdom of Heaven, for only those who actually do the will of My Father will enter."

Why? Why did He say such a thing?

Because of the very next thing He says, "I never knew you. Get away from Me, you sinners." Matt. 7:21-23
Troubling?
It should be.

So, what is He looking for? What does it take to know Him?

This.

"If you declare with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised Him from
the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart, one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved." Romans 10: 9-10

Ooooo. That word, heart. God loves that word. He uses it a lot. He calls us to Himself. (John 6:44) He saves us. He begins to work within us, in our hearts and minds.

So, you see, being "saved" is Godspeak for the beginning of knowing God. You cannot know Him unless you are saved. Period.
Yeah, that's a real thing.
The real thing.
The only thing that matters.

My friends, don't be confused by the things that aren't real. The Bible tells us what's real and what isn't. Read it and learn.

Either you know that you know Him or you don't.
For,
"His Spirit joins with our spirit to affirm that we are God's children." And, "The Spirit of God is His guarantee that He will give us the inheritance He promised.."

As always, I strive to keep it real, as God grants me grace.

Peace my friends xx

Anything But Typical

My beautiful friend, Rosalia

She wants to be a citizen of the United States.

She tells me about the endless opportunities here compared to where she is from...

Now, I consider myself to be a patriot...someone who loves this country and would fight to defend it... Yet, I never really thought about this before! Then again, I've never tried to help someone become

a U.S. Citizen before!

I quizzed her with the flash cards over and over, teaching her about our government and American history as we went....
You remember...the three branches, who ended slavery, George Washington, checks and balances, and Marco Rubio, one of our Senators here in Florida.

She gets a kick out of my patriotic fervor and apparently it's infectious, because as she started getting the answers right more often than wrong, she began clapping and cheering along with me! Ah, I LOVE  her..!! We've hit it off since day one.

Two years ago, I hired Rosalia as a household assistant and personal aide to me, but somewhere along the way, she has become a lot more.  A LOT more.
We get each other.
We're both women for starters...about the same age.
Moms, with intense passion and love for our children.
And we both have a desire to live life...to squeeze every drop out of this ride here on earth we possibly can!
We talk.
We listen.
We celebrate.
We share tears...
and we understand.
And, we have grown close.

My girlfriend is difficult to define.
She's definitely not typical.

Rosalia with her girls 

Born in Brazil, she is thoroughly Brazilian. (I learned that watching the World Cup with her last summer!)  But, she came to the United States as a twenty-something, knowing she was being called here. She was the first in her family to leave Brazil.  She always knew that this is where she belongs. I can't disagree. Her love of American freedom and opportunity, coupled with her amazing work ethic, makes her more 'American' than a lot of Americans.
Unfortunately.

But she's also a beautiful, passionate, caring woman. When men see her, they stare...so do most women. Yes, you don't forget Maria Rosalia once you've seen her.

Her children love, respect and adore her. Her daughter, Rachel, spent hours with her, preparing her for this test. She has raised 4 outstanding students and U.S citizens, while working her butt off. She has 3 daughters and a son...Her eldest daughter will be a physician soon. The others will be just as accomplished.

Complex.

"Let me get that Mrs. Ann! I don't know why you don't just ask me.."
She hates it if I try to wait on myself...

"Are we decorating the house for Christmas today, Mrs. Ann? ...Can I wrap gifts for you?"

"Do you need me to drive you to the doctor today?"

"What do you need me to do today, Mrs. Ann?"

You get the idea... She's a giver. She serves. She does. If it needs to be done, she comes in and wants to get right on it.
How rare is that?

And so I thank God for her...just as I do the other blessings in my life.

All of her hard work and preparation for this United States Naturalization/Citizenship test has taught  us both about what it means to be a legal immigrant in this country. It is not cheap. It is not easy.
It's hard.
It's painstaking.
There is a proper way. A right way.
The legal way.
And it should be like this.
Because it's worth something.

We have a remarkable history here. Ours is a country, fought and died for, many times over. There is a unique process to become part of what 'we the people' have built. To cheapen it with illegal immigration angers and saddens us both. We shake our collective heads. It's wrong. It sends the wrong message to those who have come here legally, to those who want to be legitimate
citizens.
It sends the wrong message to our enemies. Haven't we learned that?

Pathway to citizenship? We have that. Period.

And Rosalia is taking part in it.

"I know you'll be praying for me, right Mrs. Ann?"

"Yes. Absolutely. I'll be praying!"

Her test is coming up in a few days...and I will be praying for her to remember all that she's studied. God knows I want her to pass. Her joy will be my joy too.

I'm proud to call her my Brazilian friend and I'll be so excited and so proud to call her my American friend.

xx Peace My Friends

Rosalia and me at the Boca Hotel 

P.S. She passed!!

When Your Progressive Muscle Disease Progresses

I've been prepared for this. (Yeah, sure I have!)

"Muscle disease is progressive, Ann"
"Uh-huh. Yes, I see."
Not much was registering at that point. I didn't really see at all.
But I repeated the doctor's words to me...to myself, my family and friends...so many times over the past 4 years.

It's one thing to tell yourself and everyone else that you will get weaker, not better. It's an entirely different thing to live it out. I mean, there are people counting on me to make a stunning comeback...and I hate disappointing people.

But I'm pretty sure I won't be rallying anytime soon. (Yes, I believe God still does miracles) These muscles have been on a downward spiral for almost 6 months...no rallies, more paralysis, lots of profound weakness, more time in bed, harder time breathing. I can't tolerate physical therapy like I used to. I'm using my wheel chair whenever possible. I just plain don't want to walk anymore. It's a hassle.

Along with all this has come the realization that this is how it's going to be it for me from now on.
Or worse. (Not to be dramatic!)
Next stops, a power chair...ramps, lifts for my van...beyond that, I don't know.

There are days when that's ok with me and days when I think, 'Ummm, No. This is not for me.'
Today, I had a moment or two of anger, as I struggled to get my stuff in and out of the car. I'm not an angry person.
I'm just not.

The realization has been dawning on me slowly, you see. My normally rose-colored glasses have been a little darker than usual. This may be the thing that annoys me the most. I'm not the same. I am the one who encourages other people. I'm the counselor and helper people rely on.. Not the other way around.

As I began to crumble last night, I looked desperately for strength in the One place I knew I'd find it.

I went to God's Word.
He gives life.

He put my crumbles back together one more time, giving me the peace I needed. I ate it up like the starving woman I was.
I went to bed in peace and calmness of spirit.
This won't be the last time I go to Him for nourishment. He has taught me it's always safe to go to Him. It's always safe to trust Him.
None of us knows the future, but at least I know He's there waiting, in mine.
xx

You're Taking Me Where?

My daughter, Kristin, is really protective of me.

For the past few years, it's been the 2 of us hanging out together at the mall or Starbucks or Off-Fifth...pretty much everywhere. That is, when she's not working. We love to go out for breakfast and lunch, too. She eats healthy, so it's always good. Plus, she's really funny. Her sense of humor and easy-going nature endear her to everyone.

But I can't help noticing that she is really protective of me. I love that about her...Like even when there are other people around, she wants to be the one to push me because she's afraid someone else won't do a good job or a safe job...

BB is like that. There's a lot to love about that girl. (We call her BB because she's the baby of the family and apparently we called her Baby Kristin a lot!) Because when she was 11 months old, I asked her her name and she just said, "BB." It stuck. Everyone calls her BB.

BB and me this past Thanksgiving 

But let me start from the beginning.

When I first got my chair, 3 years ago, we didn't know what we were doing! Yes, there's a learning curve to this rolling life. So we tried going places we really shouldn't have been...!

...like the time BB was rolling me down a sidewalk outside of the mall and cut the corner a little close. One wheel went into a flower bed with mulch in it and I toppled over!! We laughed until we cried! I'm sure people around us stared in disbelief but we didn't notice because we were too wrapped up in our own laughter! We never really care what other people think anyway.

She learned from that, though.  She has never made another 'driving error.'

Once, when my parents came to visit, my mom tried to roll me over a speed bump in a parking lot!! Yeah, that doesn't work... (I'm laughing out loud at the memory of it!)  She rolled me back and forth, and back and forth, trying to gain enough momentum to get me up and over that thing...! (My mom is one determined lady and she'd do anything for me) ...but,
It never happened...
We were not going to make it over that bump!!

Which is why, we discovered, they marked a path for rollers with blue stripes...if you know to look for them. At that point in time, I wasn't good about remembering such things. It doesn't take too many experiences like this to learn, though!! So funny!

Rollers are safer on the blue striped path 

Recently, my future son-in-law was given the responsibility of being 'in charge' of me for the day. Poor guy. I don't know how he drew the short straw. Apparently there was some kind of secret meeting held behind my back and the next thing I knew, he was my designated driver. This bothered me a little at first. I didn't know Tim that well and pushing me is a bit personal, you know? But, the others were busy with a fitness challenge we were attending and couldn't do it, so he was elected.

This is Tim with my daughter, Kate

I decided to look at it as an opportunity to get to know him better. And it was. I'm glad things worked out the way they did! I wouldn't trade that day for anything.

But, we did not have an easy time of it by any means! He was treated to the full measure of all that it means to be out in public as a roller. We had to cross a major highway, go through gravel, over dirt trails, across a grassy path, into some pot holes, over the hills, along broken sidewalks and past some nasty people in order to be spectators at this event, located in the hills of North Georgia. And that was just to get to the entrance! I held on for dear life as I endured the ride of a lifetime! Not before nor since, have I experienced anything like it. I prayed for Timmy's strength to hold out! I prayed for my chair to hold together and wished for a better suspension and bigger tires!
When we actually arrived at our destination, we couldn't enter. That's right...

It wasn't accessible.

True story. But no one mentioned that before we worked so hard to get there.

See, in order to get to the starting line, he would've had to position me at the top of a very steep grassy hill and let go, which I could've added to my résumé of adrenaline-rushing sports!

Instead, we shrugged our shoulders, dusted ourselves off and parked my chair on a hill just outside the entrance. It had been a long hike from that parking lot to this spot, but we did it. And we weren't moving. Furthermore, we were both still happy to be there.

"I'll be back with some waters and pretzels. Do you need anything else? Are you ok in this spot?"
He had won my respect. He earned it. You can tell a lot about a person by how they push your wheel chair and this guy was speaking volumes.

One of my favorite things is whenever I'm left in no man's land... You know, facing the wall, or facing a rack of clothes up against a wall, while the rest of the group goes on to look around the store! These are rookie mistakes, as I call them. They make me smile. No one does it maliciously. Every single driver makes them, which is why it's good to have a manual chair and not a transport chair. That way I can maneuver myself to where I'd rather be.

My BFF, Suzanne pushed me the entirety of a 5k Race 

It isn't only other people who keep me laughing. I've gotten myself into some pretty silly situations without any help at all!

One time, I thought I'd try going through the sand! (Yes, I'm that dense) As you know by now, I love the beach and I didn't know my chair wasn't an ATV, so I thought, 'Why not?'
Well, I found out, of course!!
I had been up on the Bermuda grass at Deerfield Beach, watching the waves, when the bright idea hit me to roll forward and put my feet in the sand!! You guessed it. Instantly stuck! Don't roll your wheel chair into the sand! By the way, you can wheel through Bermuda grass, but not the St. Augustine stuff everywhere else in Florida.
Oh, the details you learn as you go about your life...

Deerfield Beach Boardwalk, Bermuda grass and all! 

I'm here all the time!

Wow. I know I've forgotten some of the jams I've been in with my chair, but these are a few of the highlights. They're great, aren't they? I'm surrounded by friends and family who share my passion for living and laughing! They're with me. They're here. They help me do all that I can and I love each one of them for their commitment to me and my rolling life!
Keep laughing!

Peace my friends xx

What's Wrong With This Picture?

I'm not writing this to trash the medical community.
Not at all.
In fact, I've grown very fond of my doctors and the hospitals that treat me.

There is something that has to be said, though.

This little story starts in 2004, about 7 years before my diagnosis. Yes, seven very long years of schlepping around to doctors and emergency rooms trying to find someone willing to listen.

Something was going terribly wrong with my body and I knew it, but I couldn't find anyone interested in helping me. I could not have anticipated this.. No, not in my wildest dreams.

Let me say this, finding a diagnosis for muscle disease or other rare disease, is not easy! It's not, as they say, for the faint of heart.

The change in my muscles' strength was obvious, yet no one tested them. For years, no one tested them! My reflexes were dull, but they weren't checked either. I complained of severe headaches, with aura. I was prescribed pain pills... Strong ones! Oh, and anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds... I got plenty of those. (Have they become the answer to all our ills?)

"Why?" I remember thinking, "why is this so hard?"
It was a frustrating process that took many years. I would try and give up, try and give up. And so it went, for about 7 years.

Eventually, I booked an appointment at the Cleveland Clinic...world renowned, great reputation... 'Surely they can help me,' I thought.
It took all of my strength and energy to get there that day, but I made it. My hopes were high. I
expected so much.

"I'll do some labs, but meanwhile, you keep taking those anti-depressants, ok?"
I just looked at him, my face was expressionless.
My heart dropped into my stomach... 'Is he serious?' I thought.

I promised him I'd stop by the lab on my way out for the blood-work he had ordered, but as the tears began to flow, I couldn't get to my car fast enough.
Suddenly I was exhausted.
I needed to sleep.
Daily naps were also new to me. Muscle weakness, muscle fatigue, pain, headaches...all of it was
new, but the medical community wanted to tell me I was depressed or simply stressed out. I wanted  to wring their collective necks.

Yes, all of them.

Was the muscle paralysis also from depression?

Yeah. They just looked at me like I had 2 heads when I talked about that.

One time I went to an ER, already in a paralytic attack and they asked if I had always been a nut job. The 'nurse' in that particular ER also kept running over my feet with the wheels of the wheelchair I was sitting in because I couldn't hold them on the foot plates. She eventually dropped me on the floor trying to move me onto a gurney because she never really believed my legs were paralyzed.

I was unable to speak from the paralysis, or I would've screamed for someone to get me out of there! That was, without a doubt, the single most frightening experience of my life. I believed I would die that night, in that ER, surrounded by incompetence.

Sound like fun?

These are stories I've mostly forgotten until this minute. It's not that I've buried them, it's just that
they're not relevant anymore. Someone else reminded me of them a little while ago and I decided it
was time to tell this story, because it's not only my story, but the story of millions of others who are sick, and need answers.

In fact, I know of another Periodic Paralysis patient who did pass away in an ER from respiratory failure because the medical staff didn't recognize his inability to breathe on his own and he couldn't speak for himself. They simply didn't intubate him in time.
Careless. A senseless death. Why?
I grieve for his wife and 2 children.

                                          

Jump to Spring 2011 when I walked into my neurologist's office for the first time. I was finally referred to him by a cardiologist who saw me once in the hospital and noticed I was a lot weaker than I should be!

Wow! Imagine that...

So, this is what happened at that first appointment with my neurologist.
He asked me a lot of questions. And...
He listened to me. Then,

He examined me.
He tested my muscle strength--all the muscles in my body!
He tested all of my reflexes.
He asked me to walk...straight lines, backwards, sideways, etc.
He asked me to hold up my arms, my fingers, feet and toes.
He checked my eyes.
Get the idea?

Then he asked me more questions and  again, he listened to my answers.
He took lots of notes.
He ordered MRIs.
And he was kind to me.

I came back to see him the following week for an EMG, which is a painful test involving wires that are inserted into the muscles to test nerve function. I didn't care. We were getting somewhere. I was thankful. So thankful.

Then he sent me down to see another neurologist, his mentor at the University of Miami, for a follow-up evaluation and a second opinion.

FINALLY. Finally, I was being taken seriously. I was receiving the care and treatment I had been so desperate to find.

At UM, I was treated to a 2 hour appointment with the head of neurology, a genius of a man, and a wonderful human being. He also runs the MDA Clinic for the Greater Miami area. He has seen more muscle disease than most any other doctor on the planet. 

He began our appointment by telling me this:
"If I can't diagnose the problem, I don't have the right to assume a psychotropic reason for your symptoms."
I had to pinch myself!! Is he for real?!
This is the way he practices medicine. It's also the way he teaches his medical students, including my personal neurologist.
I just wish more doctors thought, practiced and taught this way.

Yes, it took patience and perseverance (and a lot of heartbreak!) to get the diagnosis I desperately needed. There were lots of months that I laid-low, giving up for a time. But I'd rise again, determined to find the help I needed...

I didn't even know how much those 7 years were preparing me for the struggle I would have against this thing called Periodic Paralysis.

My message to you?

Don't give up friends. Whatever you're dealing with, persevere! Stay with it. Your tenacity will pay off.
As always, I wish you the peace of Jesus Christ xx
Oh and
GO 'CANES!

Who Do You Love?

Anyone recall that song from George Thorogood?

 If not, it's a classic you need to hear....so, 

Here's "Who Do You Love?" 

http://youtu.be/

You might say I'm a fan of George T. and the Destroyers! 

That was fun! Did you answer the question yet? Who do you love? 

I don't know about you, but I love a plethora of people and pets and, well, other stuff....like the ocean. Yes, the ocean! Some of you feel a connection with mountains, which I also enjoy, but for me, the rhythm and secrets of the water and the waves and all that they mean~that's my thing. I love and 

respect the sea. I can't get enough of it.

At the head of my love list, though, is people. People are the group I love the most, followed closely by animals, critters and bugs. Yep. It's even difficult for me to kill a bug at this point.  (You know I'm cray-cray, right?)

But human beings resonate with me. 

They always have. I see them through their eyes. I feel them as if their hearts are beating in my own chest. I hear them through their own ears. And I don't forget their voices or their words. Ever. I don't know why. It's just me... Sometimes it's a good thing. Sometimes it's not.

This 'gift' comes with the added benefit to send me on a roller coaster of emotions that can be distressing at times. I have to know when to back away from certain situations or people in order to protect myself--especially when I care... Many times, however, it helps me minister to people more effectively. Therefore, I know it's from God. He just has to help me manage it. 

Moving on...Ever notice that there are different types of love? 

Romantic love is pretty obvious, and it tends to be prevalent in our culture. 

There is also a 'brotherly' or 'sisterly' type of love and affection, which is less common than it used to 

be, I think.

Then there's a unique, special variety of love, which the Bible talks of as "the greatest love." That is the kind of love where I will lay down my life for yours. 

Hmmmmmmmmm.. Yeah. I'm thinking about that last one too. 

Who do I love that way? 

My children come to mind. Otherwise...

Keeping it real, I can't say anymore than that at the moment. Just the fact that I have to think about it is cause for pause...

Jesus loves us that way. 

He proved it by allowing Himself to be tortured, mocked and nailed to a cross while we were still wallowing in our sin...not wanting anything to do with God or His forgiveness. 

Do I love Him the same way He loves me?

As for the animal kingdom, well, that's a different kind of love that God put in me. It hasn't always been there. My sister, Sue, will attest to this. She was born with a deep love and respect for all critters. Even as a small girl, she was always rescuing  bunnies, injured birds, stray dogs, anything... She used to love to torment me by placing frogs and worms on me while I layed out in the sun when we were teenagers! One time,  I stepped in her bucket of 'friends' out in the garage.. Earthworms! 

When I began to read and study the Word of God, I got a glimpse of how He views His creation. It changed me. (Sue was in disbelief) God dearly loves all that He has made! He talks about it a lot in the Bible...how He watches the birds and mountain goats, the lions and eagles. He sees every intimate detail of their lives, just like He does ours. He even says He's revealed His own glory in His creation! And, He's in love with us all...! 

I admit, I can't begin to understand that. But I know I love Him in my own feeble way. I love knowing I belong to Him. I love His Word. I love hearing from Him and being in His Presence, the Holy Spirit. 

It's a love unlike anything else on earth. It isn't like any human love, or the love of pets, animals, or oceans or anything. 

I hope you've experienced it, because that's what heaven, our eternity, will be--living forever in His Presence! He calls it the guarantee, or down payment on our mansion in glory! 

So I ask you again, who do you love? 

I really hope it's Jesus. 

"I am leaving you with a gift--peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid." ~Jesus Christ

Love and peace my friends xx

A Word About Words

How important are they?

Not very it would seem... It's 8:30 on this Saturday morning. I'm still drinking my coffee and already I've been hit in the gut with 2 instances of careless words that have left me heart-broken. I'm never sure what people are thinking when they speak cruel words, but when they pierce the hearts of children, well, it kills me. 

Again, I'm guilty of thinking too much... but I'm of the very strong opinion that words matter.

Just imagine if you are this little girl...

   
        ...The feeling in her stomach made her sick. It confused her. 

        Was being a 'fatty' a bad thing? She didn't know, so she just 

         laughed along with her parents and her siblings. What else 
         can a 7 year old do..?

Child abusers of this type are every bit as brutal as the ones who take their fists, whips and belts to their kids.
Your children cannot fight back against your words either.

So may I be the one to suggest that you shut up..? They aren't equipped, emotionally or physically to deal with this type of assault.

"The tongue can bring death or life..," according to Scripture and I swear to you, I am committed to bringing life and not death to those around me. How about you?
I hope so, my friend, because...of this,
"You must give an account on judgment day for every idle word you speak."

Guilty again. It's mind-blowing how many idle words I've spoken. Thank God, I can plead not-guilty because of what Christ has done for me. 

There are a lot of opinions about why we hurt each other with our words. None of them resonate with me.
Frankly, I don't get it. 

And I'm not just calling out the parents here. Spouses are guilty. Siblings too. People in general--
we're all guilty. We destroy each other with the poison of our words. It's hard not to notice how angry
we all seem to be. I don't get that either, but that's for another day.

I don't believe in tearing people down with my tongue. Never have. I think God instilled this in me as a child...Still, He has had to help me develop this gift over time.

I know He expects me to build up and encourage the people in my life. Still, there are times my emotions get the best of me and I say things I regret. That's what apologies are for. 

In addition to the little girl being called 'fatty,'  my daughter reminded me of a family whose mother we know quite well.
I ran into her recently and we had an unfortunate encounter. You see, this mom said her son was not very smart and a lot slower than his brother...in front of him. I stood there staring at this mother. Horrified.
As if she could read my mind, she justified her stupidity by telling me 'it all went over his head.' I looked down into his sweet little blue eyes, knowing that was the farthest thing from truth I had ever heard. Was she really that clueless or was she just that heartless? I couldn't say. My heart still hurts for that boy.

Soooo, how about the rest of us?
What on earth is coming out of our mouths? Do you think it's ok to call each other hurtful names? ..Names that point out other people's flaws? It's not. Parents, do you talk negatively about your kids in front of them like this woman did? God forbid.
Do you call your children names or nicknames that are derogatory in some way?

If you have to answer yes to any of the above questions, then shame on you. And I do mean shame,

the very thing you've been causing them. 

                         

               Shame--the painful feeling of humiliation and distress caused by someone else's foolish behavior.
That's right. Fools behave this way.

God says this, "Parents, Fathers, Mothers- Do not provoke your children to anger, instead, bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord."

Notice the Bible doesn't even qualify the behavior. I assume God means avoiding anything and
everything that provokes your little ones to anger. That's quite the command, wouldn't you say? Keeping it real...I haven't been perfect with this one, but I keep short accounts with God and my kids; asking them both to forgive me whenever I mess up.

Name-calling, yelling, angry words, negativity, rude comments, careless words, mocking, relentless teasing, careless discipline ALL provoke your children to anger. Period.
Worse, it's an anger for which they have no meaningful outlet. Psychologists tell us that their anger may become depression because they must turn it inward. Some "act out," but they are usually harshly disciplined or labeled as difficult, ADHD, stupid, incorrigible... or you name it. 

Please friends, get a grip on your tongues. 

I haven't even touched on the effects of all this on other family members and society at large. Perhaps that will be for a future post... 

Think, my friends. What in the world are we doing to each other with our words?

xx

Serious thought from the Word of God...

"It would be better to be thrown into the sea with a millstone hung around your neck than to cause one of these little ones (your children) to stumble." 

Constant Companions

JimmyPage

Our room is darkened today because I have the blinds pulled. It's very quiet in the house except for the sound of cool air running through the vents. I can hear a lawn mower running in the distance. Today, I'm recovering from a pretty serious episode of paralysis. I'm in bed, but thankfully I'm not alone.
Two of my favorite companions are tucked in with me, Bill and Jimmy. These guys never leave my side, regardless of what's happening. Whatever my emotions, they know. Whenever I'm sick, they know. If I'm weaker than usual, they know. If I make a sound that is out of the ordinary, they know...and they're here.

Bill is curled up against my right leg and Jim is curled up next to Bill. They're pretty much best friends, which thrills me, because Bill is my gorgeous kitten and Jimmy is my very handsome puppy. And it could've gone either way, if you know what I mean! There is another guy named Ted, too, but he's a bit more independent today. He decided to stretch out on a stool in my closet a few feet away. Close by, but not on the bed. He's Bill's twin from the same litter of kittens. They're some fancy breed of cat that I was able to rescue from the Broward shelter here in South Florida. Stunning boys. I'm smitten with them. Perhaps Ted will join us later.

See what I mean? Stunning.

Ted jumped into the dryer. Good thing I looked before I turned it on!

JimmyPage, my Coton puppy

I hope I'm painting a sweet picture of peace and contentment.That's one of the things my boys help to provide for me. They're a big part of my emotional health and well-being. 

So, once again I find myself giving thanks to my God for the gifts He has given me. These little creatures who live with me are adorable, but they're more than that. They're a blessing. Their personalities were meant to mesh perfectly with each other as well as with me! An accident? Hardly. He knew that when He sent them to live with me. Do you believe that? As a child of God and a praying woman, I know that nothing happens coincidentally. Nothing. Not even my pets. 

I look at these little blessings as extensions of my human children, part of our family, that I have been charged to look after with love and respect. It's an honor. No furry child in my home is ever disrespected or spoken to out of anger... Just like I tried to do with my human children. (A goal I didn't achieve perfectly) 

In the Bible, we are taught that the righteous are kind to their animals. We are to have regard for the

critters given to us and to be concerned for their welfare. Sadly, this isn't always the case, is it? Not only among Christians, but generally speaking. As good stewards of the earth, though, we're supposed to put the welfare of animals high on the list of priorities. I hope you see it that way too. 

My daughters will tell you that I refer to my 'boys' as "little bundles of joy that Jesus wrapped in fluff and sent downt to my arms." Too much? Yeah, I get that. Sorry. 

Ted and Jimmy hanging out together 

But what they give to me is priceless...and since I know that all things were created through Him, (like Jimmy, Bill and Ted!) then I must give Him the glory and take seriously the gifts He bestows on me. I am grateful. 

In fact, the Bible also says that "Every good gift and every perfect gift given to us came from Him..!" My boys are certainly that! So, how can I not be thankful!?

He creates. I pray. He hears. I wait. He answers. 

And before I know it, my life, my heart (and my bed!) are alive with the love and comfort that these little fluffies bring, adding a whole other dimension to my world.

Peace, love and joy my friends xx