When I was a freshman in college, I was raped. It happened one month before my 18th birthday, Halloween night 1986. I went to a fraternity party dressed as a playboy bunny in a white leotard, tights, a bunny tail and ears. I had some drinks and was having a great time with my friends. The friend who had accompanied me decided to leave before I was ready to go home. I told her I'd be fine. When the party was winding down, one of the fraternity brothers that I considered a friend offered to walk me back to my dorm room.
When we got to my room, he asked if he could use my bathroom. I said, "Sure, my roommate is not here so you won't wake her."
Inside the room he grabbed me from behind and started kissing my neck. I asked him to stop, but instead he pulled me backwards and threw me across the end of my bed against the wall. My head hit the cinderblock wall. I must have passed out for several minutes.
When I came to, I was undressed and he was on top of me trying to force himself inside of me. Through my tears, I asked him to stop. He clutched my throat and said, "If you scream, I'll kill you."
I turned my head away and tried to just pray for it to be over. It hurt so bad because he was being so rough. It felt like it lasted for an eternity. When he finished, he said, "You tell anyone and I've got 30 frat brothers who'll swear you've already done them. Don't even think of calling the cops or I'll come back and do much worse."
I believed him. After he left, I showered for a long time until the water ran cold. I just wanted to get the scent of him off of me. I cried myself to sleep. The physical injuries didn't compare to what the rape did to my soul, to my sense of personal safety or to my self esteem. I tried to pretend nothing had happened but I had nightmares that made the darkness something to continually fear.
In 1986, acquaintance rapes were not really talked about. I thought I had done something to ask for it to happen like the way I was dressed or the fact that I had been drinking. Of course, now I know that the rape wasn't about those things. Rape is about anger, violence and control. I was not the one to blame; my rapist was.
It took me many years to get past the rape and the trust issues that came after. I wish I could say the nightmares are gone but I still have them occasionally. I often wonder if I might have had closure sooner had I reported the rape. That's something I'll never know. All I know is that I did survive and I've lived to tell my story. Hopefully, my sharing this can help other young women who have experienced rape to talk about it.
Rape is never the victim's fault, no matter what she wears or how drunk she might have been. No means no.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
DREAM ON
Not too long ago, I asked myself if I was the only one whose dreams never came true. Under my high school yearbook picture my life goal was "to write the great American novel". I thought that my dreams of that were not to be, but I had achieved a new dream which was having a beautiful daughter. My dream of a marriage that lasts all my life had ended, not failed, just ended.
While a stay at home mom, I published a number of freelance articles but didn't have the time to pursue my craft full time. After my divorce in 2011, I faced an extended potentially fatal illness. During my recovery, I began writing my own story which was very cathartic and helped my hone my craft but nothing was ready for publishing. So I read a lot and I prayed a lot. I should have known, everything happens in God's time not in mine. At that point, I began to dream on. I voiced those dreams to God and asked for guidance.
In the summer of 2016, God answered my prayers in a big way. I became inspired with a plot for a new novel and started doing research for that project. Then I saw an ad for writers wanted for a media group that owns eight women's magazines in the southeast. I sent my clips in to the editorial staff and was hired as a contributing writer. I have two articles coming out in the next issue of Emerald City Woman in Greenwood, South Carolina. I also was led to start this blog. In the first month, I received over 1000 views and it went international to ten countries on four continents. Thank you loyal readers, you are helping to encourage me to dream on.
I'm almost fifty years old, and I am proof that your dreams should stay in your heart no matter how long you've desired them. Through prayer, listening to God's desire for my life, and hard work my dreams are now becoming reality. Never give up on your dreams. They may be postponed while you fulfill God's plan for your life, but they never should go away. Everything happens for a reason and it happens in God's time, not in your time.
With a lot of work, a lot of prayer and a lot of faith dreams can come true at any time. Don't give up because one ending may lead to new beginnings. So always DREAM ON!!
While a stay at home mom, I published a number of freelance articles but didn't have the time to pursue my craft full time. After my divorce in 2011, I faced an extended potentially fatal illness. During my recovery, I began writing my own story which was very cathartic and helped my hone my craft but nothing was ready for publishing. So I read a lot and I prayed a lot. I should have known, everything happens in God's time not in mine. At that point, I began to dream on. I voiced those dreams to God and asked for guidance.
In the summer of 2016, God answered my prayers in a big way. I became inspired with a plot for a new novel and started doing research for that project. Then I saw an ad for writers wanted for a media group that owns eight women's magazines in the southeast. I sent my clips in to the editorial staff and was hired as a contributing writer. I have two articles coming out in the next issue of Emerald City Woman in Greenwood, South Carolina. I also was led to start this blog. In the first month, I received over 1000 views and it went international to ten countries on four continents. Thank you loyal readers, you are helping to encourage me to dream on.
I'm almost fifty years old, and I am proof that your dreams should stay in your heart no matter how long you've desired them. Through prayer, listening to God's desire for my life, and hard work my dreams are now becoming reality. Never give up on your dreams. They may be postponed while you fulfill God's plan for your life, but they never should go away. Everything happens for a reason and it happens in God's time, not in your time.
With a lot of work, a lot of prayer and a lot of faith dreams can come true at any time. Don't give up because one ending may lead to new beginnings. So always DREAM ON!!
Tuesday, October 11, 2016
LET'S INVADE CANADA
OK, Let's be real. Immigrants and visitors from most countries who come to the USA are identifiable because of language, accent, or cultural differences. Canadians are sneaky little bastards who can easily blend in and seem like just another citizen. I worry that the back and forth across the Canadian/US border is so normal every day that undesirables from terrorist countries could easily slip their way in. Plus, what is really the big difference between Canada and the US, except for the confused ones who think they're French.
So, I think we should just invade Canada and make them all Americans. It would expand our tax base and from what I've read they've got a good healthcare system in place. We could adopt the good things about Canada and they could adopt our culture. I mean, they're practically American anyway. Then, we could protect our largest land border entry. It's not that I don't think the border patrol does a bad job, but there's a lot of wilderness and water crossings where people can sneak across the border.
If Donald Trump can suggest a wall to keep the Mexican border safe, why can't I propose the invasion of Canada to annex them and put the entire country under Homeland Security's watchful eye? Come to think of it, that seems a perfect plan we would no longer have to worry about the Canadian border. We could go in and kick out any undesirable resident aliens and take control of most of North America. I don't think Canada has much of a military. At least, you never really here about their military prowess. If we invaded they'd probably surrender within a couple of days. Yes, the more I think about it we really need to invade and annex Canada as a US territory. That way, we would control the majority of North America.
Maybe Donald Trump should give me a call. With his plan for a wall to keep the Mexican border safe, and my plan to invade Canada, we can keep all the terrorists out. So, Donald if you read this and like my ideas give me a call.
****AUTHOR'S NOTE, THIS POST IS MEANT TO BE A HUMOROUS TONGUE IN CHEEK LOOK AT CERTAIN CURRENT EVENTS.
So, I think we should just invade Canada and make them all Americans. It would expand our tax base and from what I've read they've got a good healthcare system in place. We could adopt the good things about Canada and they could adopt our culture. I mean, they're practically American anyway. Then, we could protect our largest land border entry. It's not that I don't think the border patrol does a bad job, but there's a lot of wilderness and water crossings where people can sneak across the border.
If Donald Trump can suggest a wall to keep the Mexican border safe, why can't I propose the invasion of Canada to annex them and put the entire country under Homeland Security's watchful eye? Come to think of it, that seems a perfect plan we would no longer have to worry about the Canadian border. We could go in and kick out any undesirable resident aliens and take control of most of North America. I don't think Canada has much of a military. At least, you never really here about their military prowess. If we invaded they'd probably surrender within a couple of days. Yes, the more I think about it we really need to invade and annex Canada as a US territory. That way, we would control the majority of North America.
Maybe Donald Trump should give me a call. With his plan for a wall to keep the Mexican border safe, and my plan to invade Canada, we can keep all the terrorists out. So, Donald if you read this and like my ideas give me a call.
****AUTHOR'S NOTE, THIS POST IS MEANT TO BE A HUMOROUS TONGUE IN CHEEK LOOK AT CERTAIN CURRENT EVENTS.
CODE 3 IN A HURRICANE
Yes, while all the rest of South Carolinians were staying off the roads as Hurricane Matthew made landfall in Beaufort and Charleston, I was out riding along with a K-9 Unit of the Sheriff's Dept on the graveyard shift. It was extremely exciting but was my second such ride along with the unit which I was doing as research for a book I'm working on. First, I should recap that first amazing night I spent with Deputy T. Blackwelder and his K-9 partner, Lannes.
Lannes, a German Shepard, has been on the road since last November. Deputy Blackwelder introduced me to Lannes using only whisper commands the dog heeled by his side as I extended my hand which he promptly licked. We started the nighshift patrol and it wasn't long before I got to see Lannes in action. Every time the deputy got out of the SUV, Lannes was on his feet ready to go watching the deputy through the windshield. He got Lannes out to search a suspicious vehicle. The dog immediately alerted on the driver's side door and the deputy praised him but didn't him his reward because he needed to complete the "fresh air sniff" search (meaning from outside the vehicle and no probable cause is necessary). Around the other side I saw Lannes alert on the passenger side. At that point the deputy gave Lannes his reward - his ball. He then had probable cause and searched the interior of the car. whereupon he found several hypodermic needles which had traces of heroin. It was incredible that the dog got the scent from such a small amount of drugs. The next search was on a traffic stop on the interstate. Again, Lannes alerted and the car was searched. Only a spattering of marijuana seeds and buds were found on the floorboard. The most exciting thing to happen was a real surprise. We got the call of shots fired at a residence and we weren't far away. Deputy Blackwelder told me to hang on and he turned on the blue light and siren. At speeds well over 100mph we proceeded down #1Hwy. Then we were on a two lane side street. He said, "You know we're doing 85 in a 30mph zone." And I replied, "I figured that out a few miles back!"
Deputy Blackwelder was the perfect person to ride with for my research. He not only is the handler for Lannes, but he trains all the other dogs and handlers with the Sheriff's Dept. He's ex-military and while deployed worked with an explosives sniffing dog. If you think I'm painting him to be a real 'badass' it's because he really is. He's like the "dog whisperer" of Aiken County. He took time to answer all my questions and explain everything that happened on our ride along. So when I had a few more questions, I arranged another ride along with him on the midnight shift.
So rather than barricading myself indoors away from all the rain and winds we got from the hurricane last Friday night, I was on another ride along. It was a bit of a slow night because most people were holed up in their houses off the road. We did have one interesting call. A stolen car was spotted and a high speed pursuit was initiated by other deputies as we finished up the call we were on. Then it was blue lights and siren to get Lannes on scene for when they baled out of their car. Deputy Blackwelder said, "We're CODE 3 in a hurricane". The hurricane barely slowed us down since the deputy is such a good driver after all he is a defensive driving instructor at the Police Academy. The rain was pouring almost going sideways from all the wind and to the scene we went. I never worried for a minute. Like I said, he's pretty much a badass!
I ended my ride along about 1:30am and then had to brave the elements to drive home but I didn't mind a little hurricane weather. These ride alongs were not only essential to my research, but they were a lot of fun. A big thank you to Lannes, Deputy Blackwelder, and Sheriff Michael Hunt. I couldn't write my book without all of their assistance. And if you've got drugs moving through Aiken County, you might have occasion to meet the Badass and Lannes.
Lannes, a German Shepard, has been on the road since last November. Deputy Blackwelder introduced me to Lannes using only whisper commands the dog heeled by his side as I extended my hand which he promptly licked. We started the nighshift patrol and it wasn't long before I got to see Lannes in action. Every time the deputy got out of the SUV, Lannes was on his feet ready to go watching the deputy through the windshield. He got Lannes out to search a suspicious vehicle. The dog immediately alerted on the driver's side door and the deputy praised him but didn't him his reward because he needed to complete the "fresh air sniff" search (meaning from outside the vehicle and no probable cause is necessary). Around the other side I saw Lannes alert on the passenger side. At that point the deputy gave Lannes his reward - his ball. He then had probable cause and searched the interior of the car. whereupon he found several hypodermic needles which had traces of heroin. It was incredible that the dog got the scent from such a small amount of drugs. The next search was on a traffic stop on the interstate. Again, Lannes alerted and the car was searched. Only a spattering of marijuana seeds and buds were found on the floorboard. The most exciting thing to happen was a real surprise. We got the call of shots fired at a residence and we weren't far away. Deputy Blackwelder told me to hang on and he turned on the blue light and siren. At speeds well over 100mph we proceeded down #1Hwy. Then we were on a two lane side street. He said, "You know we're doing 85 in a 30mph zone." And I replied, "I figured that out a few miles back!"
Deputy Blackwelder was the perfect person to ride with for my research. He not only is the handler for Lannes, but he trains all the other dogs and handlers with the Sheriff's Dept. He's ex-military and while deployed worked with an explosives sniffing dog. If you think I'm painting him to be a real 'badass' it's because he really is. He's like the "dog whisperer" of Aiken County. He took time to answer all my questions and explain everything that happened on our ride along. So when I had a few more questions, I arranged another ride along with him on the midnight shift.
So rather than barricading myself indoors away from all the rain and winds we got from the hurricane last Friday night, I was on another ride along. It was a bit of a slow night because most people were holed up in their houses off the road. We did have one interesting call. A stolen car was spotted and a high speed pursuit was initiated by other deputies as we finished up the call we were on. Then it was blue lights and siren to get Lannes on scene for when they baled out of their car. Deputy Blackwelder said, "We're CODE 3 in a hurricane". The hurricane barely slowed us down since the deputy is such a good driver after all he is a defensive driving instructor at the Police Academy. The rain was pouring almost going sideways from all the wind and to the scene we went. I never worried for a minute. Like I said, he's pretty much a badass!
I ended my ride along about 1:30am and then had to brave the elements to drive home but I didn't mind a little hurricane weather. These ride alongs were not only essential to my research, but they were a lot of fun. A big thank you to Lannes, Deputy Blackwelder, and Sheriff Michael Hunt. I couldn't write my book without all of their assistance. And if you've got drugs moving through Aiken County, you might have occasion to meet the Badass and Lannes.
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
JUST A VESSEL
Just to recap, I recently posted the story of a man who has cancer and there's nothing more anyone could do. (**SEE MR TOMMY'S STORY). I went to help care for his dogs and while I was there I felt led to thank him and his wife for allowing me to help out because it is through helping others that I can allowed God's love to show through me. Mr. Tommy replied, "you should know I'm not a Christian". Normally I may have dropped the conversation right there, but the Holy Spirit took over and I shared my testimony of God having healed me.
I drove home crying and praying out loud to God asking for Mr. Tommy to be healed and that he should come to know Jesus. Many of you responded to a FB post asking for prayer. Well, the prayers worked. Today, I got an email that Mr. Tommy had asked Jesus into his heart and had asked him for forgiveness. I shed tears of joy and prayed prayers of thanksgiving upon hearing of this. So, my message in this post is that our prayers have been answered. However, there's something else.
I'm not the type to go into conversations about religion at every turn, but I don't hide my faith either. I was led to share my story by divine inspiration. The fact is that as Christians we must always act as if someone were watching because they are. You may never know the lives you can touch on any given day and that influence can be positive or negative. I didn't go to see Mr. Tommy in order to change his heart. I didn't know his heart, but God did and he used me as a vessel to show (not just tell) how powerful God is and can be.
I take no credit for the change in Mr Tommy. Perhaps something I shared helped bring him to believe but just as a vessel can't take credit for how pure the water is, neither can I take credit. How often have I felt this tug on my heart that a stranger needs a kind hello or needs to get ahead of me in the grocery line. I'm sorry to say that I haven't always heeded these messages. I have asked God many times why he healed me, what was left for me to do here on earth. The fact is I may not know until I see Jesus face to face exactly what my true purpose was. But I have learned my lesson. When God says be a prayer warrior, I'll stop what I'm doing and I will pray. When the Holy Spirit nudges me to tell my testimony I'd better do it no matter if I know the person or not.
I'm not perfect. I struggle with questions some days and all I can do is pray for discernment. I now fully understand that God has a plan for all of us and we may influence others positively or negatively depending upon our actions and our words. We should all pray each day that God use us for his glory. We should graciously become a vessel for God's love.
God Bless
I drove home crying and praying out loud to God asking for Mr. Tommy to be healed and that he should come to know Jesus. Many of you responded to a FB post asking for prayer. Well, the prayers worked. Today, I got an email that Mr. Tommy had asked Jesus into his heart and had asked him for forgiveness. I shed tears of joy and prayed prayers of thanksgiving upon hearing of this. So, my message in this post is that our prayers have been answered. However, there's something else.
I'm not the type to go into conversations about religion at every turn, but I don't hide my faith either. I was led to share my story by divine inspiration. The fact is that as Christians we must always act as if someone were watching because they are. You may never know the lives you can touch on any given day and that influence can be positive or negative. I didn't go to see Mr. Tommy in order to change his heart. I didn't know his heart, but God did and he used me as a vessel to show (not just tell) how powerful God is and can be.
I take no credit for the change in Mr Tommy. Perhaps something I shared helped bring him to believe but just as a vessel can't take credit for how pure the water is, neither can I take credit. How often have I felt this tug on my heart that a stranger needs a kind hello or needs to get ahead of me in the grocery line. I'm sorry to say that I haven't always heeded these messages. I have asked God many times why he healed me, what was left for me to do here on earth. The fact is I may not know until I see Jesus face to face exactly what my true purpose was. But I have learned my lesson. When God says be a prayer warrior, I'll stop what I'm doing and I will pray. When the Holy Spirit nudges me to tell my testimony I'd better do it no matter if I know the person or not.
I'm not perfect. I struggle with questions some days and all I can do is pray for discernment. I now fully understand that God has a plan for all of us and we may influence others positively or negatively depending upon our actions and our words. We should all pray each day that God use us for his glory. We should graciously become a vessel for God's love.
God Bless
Thursday, September 29, 2016
SCHOOL SHOOTING IN SOUTH CAROLINA
As I'm sure many of you saw on the news and all over social media, there was a school shooting incident in South Carolina yesterday. It happened in a little farm town near Anderson and Clemson University. A 14yr old boy who was himself homeschooled killed his father in his home. He then continued to the nearby Elementary school where his mother was a teacher. He approached the playground out back where the students were having recess. He fired shots and struck his mother and two six year old children. Luckily, an off duty 30 year veteran firefighter happened to witness then and proceeded to tackle and apprehend the teen with no further injuries by stopping him from firing at anymore students and keeping from entering the school. He is a real hero and saved many lives with his heroism.
I watched a live news feed on FB while police investigated the crime scene with reporters giving frequent updates. below the feed comments were being posted from all over the world. Most were joining in the call for prayer that God would watch over the wounded. The thing that I got most upset about were posts from people making 'reverse racism' remarks. One stated, "Just more stupid white people doing stupid stuff". Another said, "if the shooter were white he wouldn't have gotten arrested, he would have been shot by some white cop". And then there was one who said, "blacks don't shoot at schools". This was the tragic shooting where innocent little children were hurt so what did race have to do with it? I certainly would not get away with saying the same things about blacks or Al Sharpton would be on my lawn doing a press conference. There is no place or time when these racist remarks should be tolerated but especially not when little children were hurt.
School shootings have increased since the Columbine and Virginia Tech incidents and after all this time no one has come up with a way to prevent them in the future. A metal detector at doorways is a good tool, but wouldn't have helped here because he was on the playground. We can't, as some people suggested yesterday, arm all teachers with guns. Usually, the guns the shooters use are from their own homes. I don't suggest making guns illegal because criminals would just buy them illegally. Parents need to not only keep their guns in locked safes or gun cabinets but they need to not let their children even know they own a gun or hide where the gun(s) are kept. This is a protective measure we employ in our house but for a different reason. My father is an ex-cop who has a concealed weapon permit but I have no idea where he keeps the gun. No, I'm not a child or a danger to myself or others, at least not consciously. You see, I sleepwalk and I have done some very strange things while asleep. One night about a year ago, I had a serious sleepwalking episode. I closed a gate we use to keep the dogs from going out the front door, I turned off our security alarm and was headed out the front door with my car keys in hand wearing only a nightgown. My mother heard the alarm being turned off and came quickly to stop me from leaving. She asked what I was doing at 3am. I told her I was late for school. She told me it was the middle of the night and so I said OK and went to bed. Since then I leave my keys in her room at night as a safety precaution.
People do have the right to own guns for their own protection but there's no need for a kid to even know about the presence of a gun in the home. Also, it's easier to get a gun than to get a driver's license. At least to drive you have to prove you know how before the DMV says have at it. Gun owners should have to be trained to use the weapon and the police should be able to do drop by spot checks of licensed gun owners to make them prove the weapon is secured and not accessible to children who live or just visit the home. To me that makes more sense than arming every teacher in America.
We also should prosecute the parents of school shooters if the parent's gun was used. It is their responsibility to make sure their guns don't end up in a kid's hands. We also should require certification training required of school guidance counselors that would familiarize them on warning signs to look for in the students they counsel. I hate to say it but to me school shootings are a symptom of the breakdown of moral fiber in this country and the lack of good family values in God centered homes.
As a country, we need to get pro-active on school violence instead of just re-active like we are now. For now all I can do is share my ideas here and hopefully spark some sort of intelligent discussion of how to solve this problem hopefully before it happens again. There is one more thing I can do and that is pray. I pray for all the children traumatized by yesterday's shooting and I pray for our country that maybe it's not too late for us to put God first in this country. Until we do that, evil stands a chance to prevail.
God Bless
I watched a live news feed on FB while police investigated the crime scene with reporters giving frequent updates. below the feed comments were being posted from all over the world. Most were joining in the call for prayer that God would watch over the wounded. The thing that I got most upset about were posts from people making 'reverse racism' remarks. One stated, "Just more stupid white people doing stupid stuff". Another said, "if the shooter were white he wouldn't have gotten arrested, he would have been shot by some white cop". And then there was one who said, "blacks don't shoot at schools". This was the tragic shooting where innocent little children were hurt so what did race have to do with it? I certainly would not get away with saying the same things about blacks or Al Sharpton would be on my lawn doing a press conference. There is no place or time when these racist remarks should be tolerated but especially not when little children were hurt.
School shootings have increased since the Columbine and Virginia Tech incidents and after all this time no one has come up with a way to prevent them in the future. A metal detector at doorways is a good tool, but wouldn't have helped here because he was on the playground. We can't, as some people suggested yesterday, arm all teachers with guns. Usually, the guns the shooters use are from their own homes. I don't suggest making guns illegal because criminals would just buy them illegally. Parents need to not only keep their guns in locked safes or gun cabinets but they need to not let their children even know they own a gun or hide where the gun(s) are kept. This is a protective measure we employ in our house but for a different reason. My father is an ex-cop who has a concealed weapon permit but I have no idea where he keeps the gun. No, I'm not a child or a danger to myself or others, at least not consciously. You see, I sleepwalk and I have done some very strange things while asleep. One night about a year ago, I had a serious sleepwalking episode. I closed a gate we use to keep the dogs from going out the front door, I turned off our security alarm and was headed out the front door with my car keys in hand wearing only a nightgown. My mother heard the alarm being turned off and came quickly to stop me from leaving. She asked what I was doing at 3am. I told her I was late for school. She told me it was the middle of the night and so I said OK and went to bed. Since then I leave my keys in her room at night as a safety precaution.
People do have the right to own guns for their own protection but there's no need for a kid to even know about the presence of a gun in the home. Also, it's easier to get a gun than to get a driver's license. At least to drive you have to prove you know how before the DMV says have at it. Gun owners should have to be trained to use the weapon and the police should be able to do drop by spot checks of licensed gun owners to make them prove the weapon is secured and not accessible to children who live or just visit the home. To me that makes more sense than arming every teacher in America.
We also should prosecute the parents of school shooters if the parent's gun was used. It is their responsibility to make sure their guns don't end up in a kid's hands. We also should require certification training required of school guidance counselors that would familiarize them on warning signs to look for in the students they counsel. I hate to say it but to me school shootings are a symptom of the breakdown of moral fiber in this country and the lack of good family values in God centered homes.
As a country, we need to get pro-active on school violence instead of just re-active like we are now. For now all I can do is share my ideas here and hopefully spark some sort of intelligent discussion of how to solve this problem hopefully before it happens again. There is one more thing I can do and that is pray. I pray for all the children traumatized by yesterday's shooting and I pray for our country that maybe it's not too late for us to put God first in this country. Until we do that, evil stands a chance to prevail.
God Bless
Sunday, September 25, 2016
ALMOST FATAL
I was very abruptly confronted face to face with my own mortality this morning. I had to go out early to feed dogs I was dog sitting. As I drove away from their house, I had a feeling (no it was a message to my heart) and it said you need to pray. So I sat for a minute, turned off the radio and began to talk to God. He's used to me talking to him from the car, by the way. I thanked God for the beautiful day and then said, "I don't know why, Lord but I need for you to watch over me and help me arrive home safe".
I was only a 10 minute drive from home so this feeling of needing to pray surprised me. I understood the why only 5 minutes into my drive home. I was going 40 - 45 MPH within the speed limit and no cars in front of me. In the oncoming lane, a car was holding up traffic to turn left into a church parking lot. As I got closer, maybe five car lengths away, the little old lady driving that turning car turned right in front of me. Now, I drive a large SUV so I'm not exactly hard to see coming.
I reacted on pure instinct, going back to defensive driving techniques my dad taught me when he was a cop. I slammed my Anti-lock brakes started to skid and cut the steering wheel hard to the left hand lane. Miraculously, the car jolted to a stop only inches from the other car's passenger door as the driver continued her very slow turn in front of me. My SUV was almost completely sideways from my cutting the wheel so sharp. Thank God my Ford Escape is a heavy vehicle or else I could have flipped it on its side.
I've heard of people in accidents having their lives flash before their eyes, but mine didn't. My daughter's life (her future marriage, her children and husband, her career) is what flashed because I knew I'd probably never see that. I also in a moment thought, "When is the last time I told my parents and my sister and daughter how much they mean to me?" I was shaking as I drove the rest of the way home praising God the whole way for saving me from the crash.
I get those feelings of needing to pray quite often. If I can, I stop what I'm doing and pray to God for
whatever his angels have put on my heart. I'm not crazy, delusional, or otherwise a nut case. I believe God sends his angels as messengers to speak to our soul. No matter what rationalizations non-believers may argue to me, I know something supernatural, not of this world kept me from harm's way this morning.
God Bless and please leave comments or click to follow future posts.
I was only a 10 minute drive from home so this feeling of needing to pray surprised me. I understood the why only 5 minutes into my drive home. I was going 40 - 45 MPH within the speed limit and no cars in front of me. In the oncoming lane, a car was holding up traffic to turn left into a church parking lot. As I got closer, maybe five car lengths away, the little old lady driving that turning car turned right in front of me. Now, I drive a large SUV so I'm not exactly hard to see coming.
I reacted on pure instinct, going back to defensive driving techniques my dad taught me when he was a cop. I slammed my Anti-lock brakes started to skid and cut the steering wheel hard to the left hand lane. Miraculously, the car jolted to a stop only inches from the other car's passenger door as the driver continued her very slow turn in front of me. My SUV was almost completely sideways from my cutting the wheel so sharp. Thank God my Ford Escape is a heavy vehicle or else I could have flipped it on its side.
I've heard of people in accidents having their lives flash before their eyes, but mine didn't. My daughter's life (her future marriage, her children and husband, her career) is what flashed because I knew I'd probably never see that. I also in a moment thought, "When is the last time I told my parents and my sister and daughter how much they mean to me?" I was shaking as I drove the rest of the way home praising God the whole way for saving me from the crash.
I get those feelings of needing to pray quite often. If I can, I stop what I'm doing and pray to God for
whatever his angels have put on my heart. I'm not crazy, delusional, or otherwise a nut case. I believe God sends his angels as messengers to speak to our soul. No matter what rationalizations non-believers may argue to me, I know something supernatural, not of this world kept me from harm's way this morning.
God Bless and please leave comments or click to follow future posts.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
ONE RED BIRD
“Give me that! Everybody comes in here wanting to get rid of all my stuff,” Grandma said as she snatched a two year outdated Medicare information book from my hands and proceeded to throw it at my head with as much might as her 91 year old body could muster.
I deflected the blow with a quick wrist but nothing could mend the stab to my heart. This wasn’t my Grandma that I’d loved and cherished for over forty years. I started sobbing as my mom came over to embrace me. I said, “Mom, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did.”
“Baby,” Mom said, “you didn’t do anything. You just haven’t been here. You haven’t seen how bad she’s gotten.”
“I .. just…..” I stammered through tears, “.. want .. to . leave.”
“Honey,” Mom said, “She’s not the same since the dementia started. “It just keeps getting worse. We’re leaving soon. You just stay out here by the car and calm down. And stop crying sugar. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
On the twenty minute ride home, I replayed the episode over and over. I thought of her frequent complaints that her oldest son, and his son, (her grandson) were always yelling at her like a child and stealing her belongings to throw them away, could possibly not be the whole truth. In fact, my cousin being a confirmed bachelor had moved into her spare bedroom to help take care of her several years before.
I had spent the last eleven years living out of state over a thousand miles away with my daughter and husband and my last visit had been 4 years before. My Mom had relayed Grandma’s progressive loss of memory (particularly short term) during our phone chats, but I had no idea how serious and rapidly her condition was spiraling down. After my divorced in 2011, I moved back to be near my family.
My parents and uncle are in charge of managing Grandma’s daily affairs. There was no way to avoid Grandma’s dementia. It had become a part of my life. Although I had a little experience with dementia, I didn’t realize that dementia can present differently depending on the person.
My Great-Uncle had dementia for many years and it was of a very rapid progression. When I saw him on the last family visit, it broke my heart. His dementia seemed to have trapped this sweet 80 year old man’s body with the mind of a 4 year old. He had difficulty communicating, but when he did it was with a sweetness and innocence to what he said. I’ll never forget the struggling frustration in his eyes as he searched his mind for the exact words. But no matter how long the right string of words just wouldn’t come remaining elusive and just beyond his reach. Angry outbursts were very rare and usually at home directed at his wife. Unfortunately, we lost this wonderful man in November of 2011.
Grandma came to visit after the book throwing incident. It was obvious that Mom had mentioned what she did. Grandma settled on the couch and said, “Come here, darling. I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes were red and tiny tears tipped over the bottom lid begin maneuvering the ever slow luge-like tracks of her wrinkled face. “What’s wrong Grandma?”
“I know I hurt your feelings. But I can’t for the life of me remember what I did.”
“Grandma,” I said as I wrapped her tiny, skeleton-like hand in mine, “That’s completely in the past. I forgive you.”
Grandma continued speaking through silent tears and said. “I love you so much. You are the last person I’d ever want to hurt.”
“It’s OK, Grandma. I love you.”
I thought back to a day when Grandma screamed at the top of her voice and swung her cane at my mother. Were all these incidents all caused be the dementia, or could it be frustration with her limitations? Either way it’s the family members who must adjust.
I decided then and there that the cause didn’t matter. This was not the Grandma I’d known and loved my whole life. All I could do was love her as she was at this moment. Only God knew how much longer we would have her with us. On a daily basis it was the family that must be flexible and adjust because the disease has taken away the ability to change and/or understand. Dementia, no matter what kind or how mild or severe, it is indeed a body snatcher.
I leaned over and lightly kissed her tear stained cheek and embraced her fragile frame. “Grandma, I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”
Five years later, her refusal to cooperate with us about eating and hygiene among other things made dealing with Grandma's tantrums extremely difficult. One day a few months ago, she was staying with us for the weekend because her grandson had to go out of town. Every day, several times a day she would complain that she wanted to go home. We tried to explain that she was incapable of staying alone and she would then pout and refuse to speak to us. I admit on a couple of occasions, I lost my temper and would yell and explain and do everything short of shaking sense into her. I felt bad that I lost my cool but when I apologized to her, she had no memory of what I was talking about.
Grandma died just a few weeks before her 95th birthday. She was survived by two sons: my father, and my his older brother. Their younger brother passed away 11 years before. Unfortunately, truth be told some of the family descended like vultures on Grandma's house immediately after the post funeral dinner thrown by the ladies of my Grandma's church. My dad told them that no-one was going through her house that day. We decided everyone could come and stake their claim on any furniture, pictures, and bric-a-brac (which Grandma had in the form of porcelain birds) the following Saturday. She probably had a couple hundred birds on shelves through out the house. There were some sentimental things but nothing of incredible value.
So the following Saturday was the set clean up day. I didn't go for two reasons. One, I was still recovering from a hospital stay and Grandma's house had no air conditioning. Second, I find it distasteful to go through my Grandma's things and bring home things I had no room to display. My dad went to oversee the clean up and took my daughter with him.
When they got home, my daughter told me, "Mom I know you said you didn't want anything, but I brought this bird for you in case you change your mind."
I started to cry because it was a red bird, which were Grandma's favorite birds. Every time all my life if I saw a red bird I'd think of Grandma and then I'd make a wish. The old wives tale is that if you make your wish before he flies away it will come true. I put the little red bird on a shelf by my bed. I'm so thankful that my daughter didn't listen to me but rather knew once my grief had subsided a bit I might regret not having something to remember Grandma.
I loved my Grandma, and I'll always miss her. She lived a long healthy life nearly 95 years. She led a good life and I know she's finally reunited with my Grandpa who died almost 50 years before her; I hope she knew how much I loved her. I find myself talking to her whenever I see her bird. I'll always cherish that one red bird.
I deflected the blow with a quick wrist but nothing could mend the stab to my heart. This wasn’t my Grandma that I’d loved and cherished for over forty years. I started sobbing as my mom came over to embrace me. I said, “Mom, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did.”
“Baby,” Mom said, “you didn’t do anything. You just haven’t been here. You haven’t seen how bad she’s gotten.”
“I .. just…..” I stammered through tears, “.. want .. to . leave.”
“Honey,” Mom said, “She’s not the same since the dementia started. “It just keeps getting worse. We’re leaving soon. You just stay out here by the car and calm down. And stop crying sugar. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
On the twenty minute ride home, I replayed the episode over and over. I thought of her frequent complaints that her oldest son, and his son, (her grandson) were always yelling at her like a child and stealing her belongings to throw them away, could possibly not be the whole truth. In fact, my cousin being a confirmed bachelor had moved into her spare bedroom to help take care of her several years before.
I had spent the last eleven years living out of state over a thousand miles away with my daughter and husband and my last visit had been 4 years before. My Mom had relayed Grandma’s progressive loss of memory (particularly short term) during our phone chats, but I had no idea how serious and rapidly her condition was spiraling down. After my divorced in 2011, I moved back to be near my family.
My parents and uncle are in charge of managing Grandma’s daily affairs. There was no way to avoid Grandma’s dementia. It had become a part of my life. Although I had a little experience with dementia, I didn’t realize that dementia can present differently depending on the person.
My Great-Uncle had dementia for many years and it was of a very rapid progression. When I saw him on the last family visit, it broke my heart. His dementia seemed to have trapped this sweet 80 year old man’s body with the mind of a 4 year old. He had difficulty communicating, but when he did it was with a sweetness and innocence to what he said. I’ll never forget the struggling frustration in his eyes as he searched his mind for the exact words. But no matter how long the right string of words just wouldn’t come remaining elusive and just beyond his reach. Angry outbursts were very rare and usually at home directed at his wife. Unfortunately, we lost this wonderful man in November of 2011.
Grandma came to visit after the book throwing incident. It was obvious that Mom had mentioned what she did. Grandma settled on the couch and said, “Come here, darling. I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes were red and tiny tears tipped over the bottom lid begin maneuvering the ever slow luge-like tracks of her wrinkled face. “What’s wrong Grandma?”
“I know I hurt your feelings. But I can’t for the life of me remember what I did.”
“Grandma,” I said as I wrapped her tiny, skeleton-like hand in mine, “That’s completely in the past. I forgive you.”
Grandma continued speaking through silent tears and said. “I love you so much. You are the last person I’d ever want to hurt.”
“It’s OK, Grandma. I love you.”
I thought back to a day when Grandma screamed at the top of her voice and swung her cane at my mother. Were all these incidents all caused be the dementia, or could it be frustration with her limitations? Either way it’s the family members who must adjust.
I decided then and there that the cause didn’t matter. This was not the Grandma I’d known and loved my whole life. All I could do was love her as she was at this moment. Only God knew how much longer we would have her with us. On a daily basis it was the family that must be flexible and adjust because the disease has taken away the ability to change and/or understand. Dementia, no matter what kind or how mild or severe, it is indeed a body snatcher.
I leaned over and lightly kissed her tear stained cheek and embraced her fragile frame. “Grandma, I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”
Five years later, her refusal to cooperate with us about eating and hygiene among other things made dealing with Grandma's tantrums extremely difficult. One day a few months ago, she was staying with us for the weekend because her grandson had to go out of town. Every day, several times a day she would complain that she wanted to go home. We tried to explain that she was incapable of staying alone and she would then pout and refuse to speak to us. I admit on a couple of occasions, I lost my temper and would yell and explain and do everything short of shaking sense into her. I felt bad that I lost my cool but when I apologized to her, she had no memory of what I was talking about.
Grandma died just a few weeks before her 95th birthday. She was survived by two sons: my father, and my his older brother. Their younger brother passed away 11 years before. Unfortunately, truth be told some of the family descended like vultures on Grandma's house immediately after the post funeral dinner thrown by the ladies of my Grandma's church. My dad told them that no-one was going through her house that day. We decided everyone could come and stake their claim on any furniture, pictures, and bric-a-brac (which Grandma had in the form of porcelain birds) the following Saturday. She probably had a couple hundred birds on shelves through out the house. There were some sentimental things but nothing of incredible value.
So the following Saturday was the set clean up day. I didn't go for two reasons. One, I was still recovering from a hospital stay and Grandma's house had no air conditioning. Second, I find it distasteful to go through my Grandma's things and bring home things I had no room to display. My dad went to oversee the clean up and took my daughter with him.
When they got home, my daughter told me, "Mom I know you said you didn't want anything, but I brought this bird for you in case you change your mind."
I started to cry because it was a red bird, which were Grandma's favorite birds. Every time all my life if I saw a red bird I'd think of Grandma and then I'd make a wish. The old wives tale is that if you make your wish before he flies away it will come true. I put the little red bird on a shelf by my bed. I'm so thankful that my daughter didn't listen to me but rather knew once my grief had subsided a bit I might regret not having something to remember Grandma.
I loved my Grandma, and I'll always miss her. She lived a long healthy life nearly 95 years. She led a good life and I know she's finally reunited with my Grandpa who died almost 50 years before her; I hope she knew how much I loved her. I find myself talking to her whenever I see her bird. I'll always cherish that one red bird.
Friday, September 9, 2016
Mr. Tommy's Story
Yesterday, I sat with a family friend named Mr. Tommy while his wife went to talk to his doctors. You see, Mr. Tommy was diagnosed with cancer many years ago. He had surgery to remove the cancer in his mouth and he was left unable to speak. We met Mr. Tommy at the hospital. This kind man volunteered with the Aiken Regional Hospital even with his disability. Incredibly, he volunteered working on the lobby information desk. He would write notes to answer questions and would accompany lost visitors to where they needed to go. In April he was given an award from the ARMC for excellence in communication and customer service.
He was fortunate that the cancer went into remission for a while, but now the cancer is back and the chemotherapy has been so hard on him physically he recently decided to stop the treatment. He's now on home hospice care. Mr. Tommy's wife called my mom about finding a young person to come on a regular basis and play with their six dogs because they are no longer able to go out and exercise the dogs. My mother is the coordinator of the Junior Auxiliary Hospital volunteers at Aiken Regional Hospital so she knows quite a few college students who could help.
It touched me so that I told mom I wanted to go play with the dogs, but I was having an attack of my pancreatitis and was hardly able to get out of bed, much less play with the dogs. But then a week later, after mom had found no one and I was feeling better, I called and asked Mr. Tommy's wife when they might need me. She told me about the doctor's appt. scheduled for Thursday and I told her I would be there to play with the dogs and help out with Mr. Tommy if needed.
Mr. Tommy was sleeping for the first hour I was there with the dogs. When he woke up, he came out to 'talk' to me with his note pad. I asked him if he was feeling any better and he wrote "I want to die". Reading that absolutely broke my heart. What's worse is the guilt I felt because I have been so sick pretty recently that I said I wanted to die. Now I realize how painful it is to hear someone say that so I made a vow to try to never say I wish to die ever again.
When his wife got home, they thanked me for taking the time to come help out and I told them, "I consider this a ministry. If I'm able to help others then I'm letting God's love show through my actions".
Mr. Tommy got his pad and wrote, "You should know, I'm not a Christian".
I replied, "that's OK Mr. Tommy. I can still pray for you, right? It can't hurt". He nodded yes. I then went on to share my testimony of being healed by God in 2013. I was in a coma and the doctors did not expect me to wake up or if I did wake up I would be a vegetable. They asked my family to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate order". My parents said no that as long as there was a God in heaven then there was hope i could be healed. I coded about 5 minutes later and they worked with me for over an hour and brought me back, but I was still in the coma for two weeks then I just woke up one day.
I told Mr. Tommy that the doctors at the hospital even told me that it was a miracle from God that I recovered. My MRI had shown necrosis (dead areas) on the corpus colosseum in my brain and they knew that dead brain cells usually can't be reversed, but mine did. I wasn't trying to preach to Mr. Tommy but I felt I had to say something to give him some hope and God was leading me in my heart of what to say.
I cried and prayed out loud all the way home. I then posted a request for prayer for Mr. Tommy on FaceBook. Many of you responded and I'm so thankful for all the prayers that have been going up for him. He has been such an inspiration to so many people that someone who can't even speak or eat food and has a feeding tube would take up his time by volunteering at the hospital to help others. So, let's keep this prayer chain going up for Mr. Tommy that he might regain to will to fight this battle and also that maybe he will come to know Jesus before it's too late. Thank you all for your prayers.
He was fortunate that the cancer went into remission for a while, but now the cancer is back and the chemotherapy has been so hard on him physically he recently decided to stop the treatment. He's now on home hospice care. Mr. Tommy's wife called my mom about finding a young person to come on a regular basis and play with their six dogs because they are no longer able to go out and exercise the dogs. My mother is the coordinator of the Junior Auxiliary Hospital volunteers at Aiken Regional Hospital so she knows quite a few college students who could help.
It touched me so that I told mom I wanted to go play with the dogs, but I was having an attack of my pancreatitis and was hardly able to get out of bed, much less play with the dogs. But then a week later, after mom had found no one and I was feeling better, I called and asked Mr. Tommy's wife when they might need me. She told me about the doctor's appt. scheduled for Thursday and I told her I would be there to play with the dogs and help out with Mr. Tommy if needed.
Mr. Tommy was sleeping for the first hour I was there with the dogs. When he woke up, he came out to 'talk' to me with his note pad. I asked him if he was feeling any better and he wrote "I want to die". Reading that absolutely broke my heart. What's worse is the guilt I felt because I have been so sick pretty recently that I said I wanted to die. Now I realize how painful it is to hear someone say that so I made a vow to try to never say I wish to die ever again.
When his wife got home, they thanked me for taking the time to come help out and I told them, "I consider this a ministry. If I'm able to help others then I'm letting God's love show through my actions".
Mr. Tommy got his pad and wrote, "You should know, I'm not a Christian".
I replied, "that's OK Mr. Tommy. I can still pray for you, right? It can't hurt". He nodded yes. I then went on to share my testimony of being healed by God in 2013. I was in a coma and the doctors did not expect me to wake up or if I did wake up I would be a vegetable. They asked my family to sign a DNR (do not resuscitate order". My parents said no that as long as there was a God in heaven then there was hope i could be healed. I coded about 5 minutes later and they worked with me for over an hour and brought me back, but I was still in the coma for two weeks then I just woke up one day.
I told Mr. Tommy that the doctors at the hospital even told me that it was a miracle from God that I recovered. My MRI had shown necrosis (dead areas) on the corpus colosseum in my brain and they knew that dead brain cells usually can't be reversed, but mine did. I wasn't trying to preach to Mr. Tommy but I felt I had to say something to give him some hope and God was leading me in my heart of what to say.
I cried and prayed out loud all the way home. I then posted a request for prayer for Mr. Tommy on FaceBook. Many of you responded and I'm so thankful for all the prayers that have been going up for him. He has been such an inspiration to so many people that someone who can't even speak or eat food and has a feeding tube would take up his time by volunteering at the hospital to help others. So, let's keep this prayer chain going up for Mr. Tommy that he might regain to will to fight this battle and also that maybe he will come to know Jesus before it's too late. Thank you all for your prayers.
Sunday, September 4, 2016
DATING OUTSIDE OF YOUR FAITH
Twenty years + ago, I didn't think about not dating outside of my faith. Granted I was not living my life with Christ at the center. I thought it didn't matter if I dated someone who was of a different religion or even if they were non-believers. I actually married a man who was an atheist. I had been raised in the Baptist church. Church twice on Sunday and prayer meetings on Wednesdays. I was active in the youth group, but as often happens, during college my church attendance was non-existent and my leading a Christian lifestyle kind of fell by the wayside. I thought I could make it in the world all on my own.
So I did marry a non-believer and it didn't matter at first. Then, I became a mother. I began attending the Episcopal church and found it a much better fit for my beliefs than the strict Baptist upbringing I'd had when I was younger. I had my daughter baptized and she and I attended church regularly. My ex-husband didn't mind since I wasn't trying to convert him. It was hard for me as my faith grew, not to have a partner to share my beliefs with. Eventually, he felt it would be better for my daughter if we went to church as a family. The surprising thing is that after I left and my daughter was away in college, he continued to attend church on his own. Maybe God used me to reach a non-believer, but now I make it a rule to abide by what the Bible says about the subject. It tells us not to be "unequally yoked".
Recently, I met someone nice online. We talked for several weeks and eventually met for dinner. Two days later I realized that I couldn't remember what his profile said as far as religious preference. I went online and looked only to find that he listed himself as non-religious. I had to call him, hoping all the while it was a mistake. I really liked him. But I knew that it would not be fair to him or to myself if I kept seeing him. When I spoke with him he said that he was an agnostic.
That set off a Biblical debate. The same arg;aments I've heard my whole life when people try to argue science vs. religion. I'm not a religious scholar but I do study the Bible and pray for discernment that I understand the word as God would have me do. For his every point against Christianity I had a counter-point. What it all boiled down to was that I told him I have experienced God moving in my life and everything comes to a matter of faith. We agreed it best that we not continue seeing one another.
This may seem harsh and judgmental, but in reality I'm doing as God commanded. It's hard enough for a couple to stay together these days if you complicate things by marrying a non-believer the cards are stacked against you from the start. I want a companion and partner in my life who shares my faith who understands that I lean on God and pray for his guidance. So, now, one of the first things I ask when I meet someone new is what is their religious affiliation. I trust that God will bring to me the partner he has planned for me to meet. I have faith that he knows my needs greater than I even know. I will definitely not date a non-believer ever again.
So I did marry a non-believer and it didn't matter at first. Then, I became a mother. I began attending the Episcopal church and found it a much better fit for my beliefs than the strict Baptist upbringing I'd had when I was younger. I had my daughter baptized and she and I attended church regularly. My ex-husband didn't mind since I wasn't trying to convert him. It was hard for me as my faith grew, not to have a partner to share my beliefs with. Eventually, he felt it would be better for my daughter if we went to church as a family. The surprising thing is that after I left and my daughter was away in college, he continued to attend church on his own. Maybe God used me to reach a non-believer, but now I make it a rule to abide by what the Bible says about the subject. It tells us not to be "unequally yoked".
Recently, I met someone nice online. We talked for several weeks and eventually met for dinner. Two days later I realized that I couldn't remember what his profile said as far as religious preference. I went online and looked only to find that he listed himself as non-religious. I had to call him, hoping all the while it was a mistake. I really liked him. But I knew that it would not be fair to him or to myself if I kept seeing him. When I spoke with him he said that he was an agnostic.
That set off a Biblical debate. The same arg;aments I've heard my whole life when people try to argue science vs. religion. I'm not a religious scholar but I do study the Bible and pray for discernment that I understand the word as God would have me do. For his every point against Christianity I had a counter-point. What it all boiled down to was that I told him I have experienced God moving in my life and everything comes to a matter of faith. We agreed it best that we not continue seeing one another.
This may seem harsh and judgmental, but in reality I'm doing as God commanded. It's hard enough for a couple to stay together these days if you complicate things by marrying a non-believer the cards are stacked against you from the start. I want a companion and partner in my life who shares my faith who understands that I lean on God and pray for his guidance. So, now, one of the first things I ask when I meet someone new is what is their religious affiliation. I trust that God will bring to me the partner he has planned for me to meet. I have faith that he knows my needs greater than I even know. I will definitely not date a non-believer ever again.
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