By rwilliam
I went to my Natropath Dr. a few days ago. The affirmation that came up was,
“It Is Safe To Remember.” I nearly cried. Really? Is it? I don’t want to remember.
I mean, the memories I ‘own’ are enough.
“Lord,” I prayed, “I don’t want to remember, but I don’t want to stay stuck either.
I want to trust You. I choose to trust You… I’m scared.”
I thought about two visions the Lord gave me years ago. I was processing my
emotions from the ‘first-round’ of memories that had surfaced. I drew out the visions.
I'm walking away from life, going in the opposite direction. Jesus stopped me and
turned me around to face the demons of my past. I am scared, they held menacing knives,
long, sharp claws, evil red eyes. But they were ghosts. Memories of past abuse.
“You have to go back through this,” He said, putting His arm around my waist,
“face these demons and then you will be truly free.”
Another vision I had, I was walking through a forest. The ground was covered with coal
black ash, debris, fallen trees. As I trudged through, it grew harder and harder to move
forward, and then it became impassable. That’s when Jesus scooped me up and carried me.
I’m physically and emotionally exhausted, but He moves with ease over the debris. I look at
the ground, it’s black, covered with ash and burnt logs, memories of pain and shame.
It’s so ugly I can’t bare to look at it. I bury my face in Abba’s chest.
We walk for a long time, and then exit the forest. Its so bright! I can hardly take
the pure light. I missed the familiar darkness. The grass, green and lush, the sky an
azure blue, beautiful; birds are singing.
Jesus sat me down; my legs are rubber, I feel weak, unsure if I can stand. I look
over my shoulder at where we’d come from and then at this beauty.
Jesus has to nudge me forward, “Go, run. Have fun.” I start to walk, feeling unworthy
of this place, I stop and look back at Abba, making sure it’s okay for me to enjoy this beauty.
Reassured with a nod, I turn and run. My legs feel strange, wobbly, but I keep going, faster
and faster, my stride became stronger with each step, joy filled my body and spirit. It’s euphoric.
Soon, Jesus called me back with a wave. He tells me we have to go back to the forest. I
don’t want to, but He holds my hand. As we walked, I noticed that it’s brighter now. No dark
trees blocking the sun. Everything is brown. I notice these large, swollen scars on the ground.
There are so many. I stoop down to touch them, and stop, afraid that it will hurt.
“Go ahead, touch them, they won’t hurt. They’re the scars of your past, but
I will bring beauty out of it.”
I’ve journaled most of my life. I need to go back through these journals to look
at where I’ve come from. How far You’ve brought me, Lord. There’s still shame there.
I felt it when I looked through my journals. I did nothing wrong. Wrong was done to me.
My head knows this. My heart doubts at times.
I kept thinking about my affirmation, “It is safe to remember.”
I woke up the next morning and You said to me, “That would make a great book title.”
When I shared it with my husband and best friend they agreed. I’m excited…and
then reality sets in. I have to write this. That means looking at the memories I have,
not pleasant, and then facing the ‘rest of the story’ so to speak, as the memories
fill in completely.
I want wholeness. I do. I just don’t like the pain. Never have. But running
from it doesn’t spare me the pain. It just comes out in other ways. It hurts
me and others. I don’t want that.
I went back to the cabinet where my journals are stored. I pulled them out flipping
through them one at a time and I started to feel shaky inside. I began to
second guess myself.
Do I really want to do this? Maybe it’s not such a good idea after all.
That’s when something caught my eye. I picked up the magnet, “Don’t
look back…you’re not going that way.”
WHOA! I stood there, stunned. Okay Lord, you’re right. You don’t want me
to go back to stuffing my feelings.
I continued to flip through the journals when I came across an entry I’d written
of a specific childhood abuse. Fear put me in a vice grip, my insides shook. I
turned to put the journals back, I don’t feel like doing this today… and once
again two more scripture magnets caught my eye.
One read, “I am Victorious.” The other read, “My grace is all you need. My power
works best in weakness," 2 Corinthians 12:9 (NLT). " For God is working in you,
giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him," Philippians 2:13 ( NLT).
Weak. That is absolutely how I feel. Okay, I can do this. I’m not sure where this book
is going, how it will turn out, what I’ll write or how I’ll write it. All I know is that I’m on
a journey. An adventure awaits me. I can feel that it will be bright, better on the other side,
I’m just scared of facing the demons. But, God is with me.
My best friend, Gail said, “I’m going to pray that you will see God was with you in
all those places.” Wow, what a gift! That will be very healing; not just for myself
but for others who have walked a similar road.
So begins my journey….
October 24,2019, Thursday. I’m worshipping to New Creation Church Worship Music.
The song, “Until The End” came on. I threw up my arms and sang along, worshipping my
sweet Abba when He gave me the most precious vision.
I saw Holly, a daughter I’d aborted, and my children that I lost in miscarriage, in the spirit,
standing next to their momma worshipping our Lord, with me. I cried. I am not alone.
How precious!! Thank You, My sweet Lord!
| Author Notes | I don't know where this book is going, only God does. But if my journey can help you on yours, then it is worth facing the past and dealing with the present to have the healing and wholeness Jesus died to give us. |
By rwilliam
January 5, 2020: Good morning, Abba. I’m really struggling today. I know that You
have told me, that You are shaking off everything that is not of You, so that what is
left, is my firm foundation, standing in truth and power. It feels like I have no foundation,
like Im falling. Where are You? Why do You seem silent, so far away? Is this still part of
the shaking?... I’m scared. I feel so alone. But then I saw You, darkness all around and I’m
falling...into Your arms.
On December 22, 2019 I got a call from my sister, Beth. Mom was taking Daddy to the
ER with a possible stroke. I felt like I was punched in the gut. My Dad? He’s so strong.
He can outwork us all day long. Not my Dad?
The tears and regret poured out. I sat on the bed after I hung up and wept. Then came
the second call. My sister Judi and Christi wanted to put me and Beth on a conference
call so, “...we only have to say this once.”
I shook violently, I felt like I was going to be sick…I tried to wait...to be patient
for Beth’s call to connect. It felt like an eternity. I can’t wait..."Is he ok? Is he...alive?“
“He’s alive,” I hear one of my sisters say.
My world is swirling and I can't tell who spoke, then I hear Beth answer, "Hello."
Judi's voice shakes with emotion, “It’s not a stroke…” relief lifts the weight from my
shoulders, for a brief second, and then she continues…”Daddy has a brain tumor…”
I hear Beth, ”WHAT??” And then she sobs. I’m sobbing and my heart breaks for my
sisters. We wept and wept.
“The Dr. thinks it’s cancer and he has three months to live.” The rest of the
conversation is a blur. They call it, ' the shock cry'. So true!
A couple of memories, flashed through my mind. It was in August. I got to be
home for my birthday and my Daddy had arranged for my family, that lives in
Nebraska, to get together at my sister's lake house. I remember him carrying
out this beautiful birthday cake for me. I did a 'freeze frame' of that moment,
and felt a bit uneasy as to why I felt the need to. That prophetic gifting nudging me...
The last night before we left to travel home, Daddy turned to us, his leg crossed,
admiration in his eyes, and said, “We really like hanging out with you guys. Would
you come and visit us in Texas for a couple of weeks?”
"Of course we would!" We said simuitaneously.
They go there to get away from the frigid Nebraska winters. I was so honored! Having
felt like an outsider for such a long time, this made me feel welcomed back…now that
trip may never happen.
The other memory was when I was little, maybe 4 or 5. It was a humid summer evening in
Georgia. On the drive home from an outing, I’d fallen asleep in the back seat. I remember Daddy
picking me up and putting me on his shoulder. I felt so safe in his strong arms. My eyes fluttered
open and then I went back to sleep. All was right with the world.
I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. That safety net of my parents has been stripped
away. They were the strong ones who took care of me, if I needed. I didn’t realize how much
I relied on that net. I’m not sure I even thought that much about it, or was aware that I
relied on it, until this happened.
| Author Notes | This is happening in my life right now. I'm writing to try and deal with the pain of losing a parent and the move into a new stage of life. |
By rwilliam
The Lord had tried to prepare me for this call. For about two months He kept telling me,
“Call your Mom and Dad NOW, while you can.”
That scared me so I did. But then it became specific, “Call your Dad.” I knew something
was going on, but, in my typical manner, I pushed my head deep into the sands of denial.
I still called, but that gnawing feeling in my gut would not go away. This prophetic gift
has proven to be correct many times in my life, mostly for good things, but occasionally it
was a warning, or heads up.
Articles, FB posts and TV shows, started popping up about grieving at the Holidays.
I was quick to flip the channel or get off those articles. Please, not at the holidays…
wait,..please. I begged God, over and over. That growing, unrelenting knowledge
that something was going to happen at the Holidays wouldn't leave me.
I’m grateful that God was trying to prepare me, but my need to avoid pain kept me
from gleaning what could have helped me prior to this call.
My phone rang again and we were conferenced in to hear what the Doctor had to say,
”He will live three months without surgery, three to five years with, depending on what
kind of cancer it is. We won’t know until we do surgery. Right now he’s on steroids to
reduce the swelling, which is causing his confusion and memory loss.”
With tears and family talking over each other, I heard my sister Beth saying good-bye.
"Wait..wait...before you hang up. CHRISTI." I could feel panic clutching at my chest.
"Yes."
“Can Daddy hear me?”
“Yes,” she said. I could hear her move closer to him.
“Daddy..." I paused, trying to keep my composure. I could hear my sistsers softly crying.
"I love you. I love you so so much! You are the best Daddy in the whole wide world.
I have been thinking about that lately, and I am so proud of you. I love you. I’m sorry
you have to go through this.”
Later, the phone rang for the fourth time and I started to cry before I even answered it.
I’ve never been so sick or afraid of answering my phone. I walked around pinching
myself, Wake up! Wake up! This is a bad nightmare. But, I have yet to wake up.
I truly wish this was a dream.
Conference calls with doctors, surgeons and neurologists became a blur over the next
couple of days. My husband and I left December 26, to travel to Nebraska. I was numb,
my mind just couldn’t function properly. My sweet husband drove most of the way.
We put on movies to help pass the time. About six hours in, out of nowhere, I began
to shake and sob. I was confused and looked out the window, what? why am I feeling
like this? Then I saw a sign, Hebron Ne. and I realized we were getting close to home.
The emotions and reality that I was about to face, flooded over me.
I lost track of the days, dates or time. I was just on auto-pilot. The night we drove into
town we stopped at the Hospital to see Daddy. It’s hard to see your strong Dad, sitting
in a wheel chair and hospital gown looking blank, scared and worried. He doesn't want to
be a vegetable when this is all over. The MRI’s and CAT scans showed a tumor the size
of a baseball in the front right lobe. It was causing swelling and pushing on the brain.
That’s why his behavior had changed so much.
So what prompted all this? On December 22, 2019, a Sunday, Daddy, a retired pastor,
routinely filled in for other pastors who wanted a vacation. This Sunday, Mom said
he kept repeating the same verse over and over and then just stood there. My Mom,
and a man who has known Daddy for years, could tell something was wrong. Mom got
up and went to the pulpit.
“Come on honey, we’re all done.” She took his notes and Bible and they walked off
the stage and drove to the ER.
I just realized, he may never preach again.
My sister, Christi looked up the symptoms of a brain tumor and said he fit it
to a "T", but the little changes that we’d seen, we’d chalked up to him getting older.
My sister, Beth put it best, “Daddy was a strong island that all his girls stood on.”
That is so true. I’d never thought about it like that. He had been our strength.
| Author Notes | This is happening in my life right now. I'm writing to try and deal with the pain of losing a parent and the move into a new stage of life. |
By rwilliam
All of us who could make it, stayed at the Hospital during the day,
to keep Mom and Daddy company. We had them open their
Christmas gift from us girls, (that was bittersweet). We’d
given them a new bed set.
I personally, bought Daddy some gourmet peanuts. Bed sheets
are nice, but I wanted him to have something that I knew he’d
like. It was so important to me that he could enjoy them…I’m
not sure why it was so important? I guess, I wanted to feel like
nothing had really changed.
“Look what I got you, Daddy.”
He tore into it right away, popping the top off the ranch flavored can.
Watching him enjoy them was such a comfort.
Thank you, Lord for that gift.
I watched him put another handful into his mouth. Funny the things
that become meaningful.
Over the next few days, Mom, my sisters and I, sat around a waiting room
table and colored, talked and cried, as Daddy slept in his room. He hated all
of the, ‘eyes on him’, as he put it.
We took turns checking in on him. The steroids caused these hiccup like
reactions. He said it felt like someone was squeezing his chest/abdomen and
he couldn’t get his breath. His sternum hurt because it happened almost non-stop.
It was hard to watch, and if he was talking, it would cause a stutter as he waited to
catch his breath and finish speaking. UGH! If I could take away his pain, I would!
Surgery Day, Dec. 30, 2019, we got up at 5 a.m. to be at the hospital at 6. They
were letting us go back two at a time. Christi and I went in together. I was shaking
so hard I was concerned my knees would buckle.
The last time I’d seen Daddy in a hospital bed was in 1977. A dam had burst,
flooding the campus where we lived. My Dad, a volunteer fireman, was caught
in the flood while out warning people to get to higher ground. His partner died,
as well as many friends of ours, young and old.
I remember standing at the door to his room. My Mom and sisters rushed to his
side, but I stood frozen, crying. Daddy lifted his head and reached out for me,
“Come here honey.” Sobbing into my clinched fists, I walked over to him. I did
not like seeing my Daddy like that.
Now here I was, walking into the OR, about to see my Daddy in another hospital
bed, my stomach in my throat.
Christi went to Daddy first. I could hear her crying, but I didn’t hear what they
said to each other. I felt like I was out of my body. Surreal.
My turn...I looked him in the eye, not sure what I was going to do or say,
and then I heard myself speak, “God is our fortress. He is strong. You are going
to be ok, either way, you are going to be ok.” I hugged him gently, as if he could break.
He seemed comforted by my words and had tears in his eyes. I could see the fear on his
face, not an expression I can recall seeing my entire life. The shaking had stopped and
peace washed over me. I KNOW it’s because so many people were praying.
The neurologist, whose bedside manner sucked, but is supposedly a great
doctor, told us he was confident that he got it all. It was a large tumor,
the size of a baseball. He then proceeded to tell us how he called over an
intern to, "look at how big this hole is." Inappropriate, in my opinion. Half
of Daddy’s right front lobe was gone. He told us, “the brain takes over for
the parts that are removed. I believe that most of his personality would be
the same.”
When Daddy came out of surgery, my brother-in-law, Allen said, ‘His first
words, were a joke.”
Relief flooded me. One by one my sisters went in. He recognized them, called
them by name and gave them a thumbs-up when they said they loved him.
But when I went in, he was sleeping. I told Mom, “He knows I love him, and
I know he loves me. I’m not about to wake him up. He needs his sleep.”
Daddy was in ICU for a few hours when they moved him to the fifth floor.
At first we were excited, Wow, Daddy must be doing great for him to be
moved already. The neurologist said he’d be there 3-5 days. A little later,
Mom got a call from administration. They were talking about sending him
home the next day. My sister, Judi was with her and thought it seemed odd.
She called them back, sure enough, they were trying to push Daddy out
of the hospital because he had medicare and not a ‘good’ insurance. She
had to call our social worker, who agreed it seemed to be what they were
doing and she started to fight for us. Thankfully my Dad’s GP said, “I admitted
him and only I can release him. I’ve got your back!”
It was so comforting to hear that from someone “in charge.”
| Author Notes | This is happening in my life right now. I'm writing to try and deal with the pain of losing a parent and the move into a new stage of life. |
By rwilliam
My brother-in-law, Allen stayed with daddy that first night, and Todd and I
stayed the next. It was a good thing too, because that floor was not
prepared to care for ICU patients.
When Daddy decided he needed to use the restroom, he'd just get out of
bed. This was dangerous because he was still heavily medicated, making him
a fall risk. I tried to stop him from getting up, while Todd ran for a nurse.
Man he's strong. I basically made sure he didn't fall, as we inched towards
the bathroom.
The nurses used a belt and walker to assist him, but the new shift
would come on, and they wouldn’t use them. It was frightening. We felt
we had to educate them. You would think the new shift would be
informed by outgoing staff what was needed, not always.
Daddy was up every twenty minutes to pee. Finally, at 3:45 a.m. the best
guy nurse on the floor, noticed the frequency and did an ultra sound on his
bladder. Daddy wasn’t emptying properly and they removed a liter of fluid.
After that he was able to rest for longer periods of time.
I didn’t sleep. Todd and I took turns keeping watch. I walked the halls,
cried, prayed. My fear for his care on high. I overheard the nurses
complaining at the nurse’s station.
"Why is ICU sending us so many patients tonight? Barbara is up to her arm
pits with patients."
They were upset and confused as to why ICU kept sending up so many
patients, right after surgery. I saw them coming up, one after another.
They probably didn’t have good insurance either.
As I sat by Dad's bed, I thought about when we'd first arrived. Todd
got to the room before me. When I got there, Todd ran to the restroom.
My dad’s first words to me where, “Where did Todd go?”
“He went to the restroom Daddy, he'ill be right back.”
All evening I looked for my nugget of recognition.
“Hi Daddy….I love you Daddy…” Nothing. Just a blank stare.
Don’t be silly, Rebecca, he just had surgery. He doesn’t recognize you.
But, as the night went on I became discouraged. We’d had some rough
years, thanks to all the f’ing abuse I’d suffered as a child. It affects you,
the way you act and react.
We’d only really reconciled in the past few years and I worried he really
hadn’t forgiven me for being a problem child. BUT, I also know my Daddy
loved me and forgave me for my past.
He'd told me once, "I knew there was something driving your behavior,
but I didn't know what it was." He never blamed me or made me feel bad.
At 4:00 a.m. I leaned over Daddy, helping him change the TV channel
when he placed his hand on my lower back in a tender, loving way. I sat
in the chair next to his bed, hopeful. He held my hand for a long time.
He does know me.
Todd took over sitting in the chair, and I tried to get some sleep on the couch,
when I heard Daddy abruptly say, “BECKY.”
I jumped up and hurried to his side, “Yes, Daddy. What do you need?” He never
replied. I held his hand, Thank You, Lord. I believe he knows me and that I'm here.
Todd and I left around 8 or 9 a.m. the next morning and fell into bed. My
phone kept going off as my sisters, who took shifts, sent updates.
The following day, Todd and I stayed with Mom at the house. She had a
bad cold, coughing almost constantly. The nurses had the ER Dr. do an
x-ray and sent Mom home, telling her she couldn’t be there so sick.
While Mom and I watched Hallmark Movies, (her favorite channel) the nurse
called, "You don't have whooping cough or bronchitis, just a bad cold. We
hope you get to feeling better real soon."
This was great news because Mom wanted to be with Dad. I made sure she
did her breathing treatments and took her medicine. I cleaned the house,
did laundry, took out trash. Todd and I bought her groceries to get her by
until the church started bringing in food. We had to leave the next day to
travel back home and so at 9:00 p.m. we left to go to bed.
I felt such guilt leaving. I knew my two sisters were overwhelmed. Beth had
left two days before, and I felt responsible for the two sisters being "left" behind.
On the way out of town, we stopped at the Hospital to see Daddy. Mom
wasn’t there. “Call Mom, Todd. She was supposed to be here this morning.
Lonnie was going to drop her off on his way to work.” I was concerned.
When Daddy heard Mom’s voice he perked up. Todd put it on speaker so
they could talk to each other,
“I love you so much hun,” Mom said. “I'm not going to come today
because I'm still sick. How are you doing?”
Daddy was a little out of it and we couldn’t really understand what he said.
“Give him a hug and kiss for me,” Mom said.
When he heard that, he reached his arms out to me in the cutest, little boy
way. I smiled, leaned in and gave him a hug and kiss.
When Mom hung up, that blank look came over him, like a veil being lowered.
He went back to looking at his newspaper. Oh my heart. His hands shook so
badly. He seemed to be focused on the edge of the paper.
"We have to leave today, Daddy." I placed my hand on his chest. "We'll
try and come back to see you again real soon, okay?"
Nothing.
"I love you."
I really wanted him to know me, to say, ‘Hi Becky,' like he had with my sisters.
I wanted that memory to carry home with me. It felt like rejection. I knew better,
but it still tore me up.
I kissed him on the forehead and turned to the nurse."Thank you for taking
good care of my Dad."
"Of course. He'll be ok." She cheerily chimed.
Oh, you have no clue.
I walked down the hall, past the waiting room where we’d spent so much time
and started to cry. I cried all the way to the car.
“This isn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be a vegetable, not that he is,
by any means, but to see him like that, broke my heart. That's not my Dad."
| Author Notes |
This is happening in my life right now. I'm writing to try and deal with the pain of losing a parent and the move into a new stage of life.
P.S. The photo is Mom, Daddy and my daughter, Jess. |
By rwilliam
January 3, 2020, Friday. We’re home. It felt weird coming in the house with
all the Christmas decorations up…what Christmas? It felt eerie. I focused on
unpacking, doing laundry and then fell into bed.
The next day, I kept my phone on silent. I just needed ONE day with no talking,
updates or thinking about Daddy. I’m overwhelmed with so many emotions, I
don’t know which way is up. Of course, he's always on my mind, but I was able
to keep busy around the house and that helped a little.
Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time today. Stuff is getting done and
now what? I’m in the process of looking for a part time job after 29 years. I’d
left the work place to raise and homeschool my daughter, and then the last six
years helping my husband with a statewide art project.
What can I do, that I can physically handle. What is my purpose? To work at
some mindless job to bring in some money? Why can’t I make it as a writer?
Maybe I’m not any good.
So many changes, I’ve never liked change. Now I’m overly worried about
something happening to my husband, worried if I'll ever need elderly care.
I've struggled with things I’ve been told about my Lord, too. Do miracles
really happen? I’ve had hair loss that has progressively gotten worse, to
the point I have to wear a wig. It’s hard as a woman, to have her beauty
affected in this way. My husband loves me and bought me an expensive
real hair wig, but it’s hot in the summer and uncomfortable. A constant
reminder that it’s not my hair. I feel like an imposter. We’ve talked about
traveling and I worry about what I can and can’t do. Like swimming, or
going on a boat ride, will it blow my wig off?
I truly believed I’d receive a miracle and God would heal me. I’ve been praying
and believing for years…not yet. It’s hard not to feel condemned, like maybe
there’s something “I” did or didn’t do. If I want my healing, and God want’s
my healing…then what’s the problem?
I’m asking Him to show me, but right now we are at a stale-mate, so to speak.
All I can do is wait. I know He will speak to me. He’s my fortress, My God in
Him I will trust. What else can I do?
I crawled up on Abba’s lap, and buried my face in His chest. He wrapped His
arms tightly around me, rocking side to side.
You’ve got this, Lord. You see the big picture.
January 7, 2020- Lord, I’m really struggling. I think I'm doing good and then
a wave washes over me. It’s 5:28 p.m. I tend to feel blue when the sun goes
down, lots of people do, especially in the winter. Tonight though, was extra
hard. I’m fighting a cold, so I'm sure that has a lot to do with it.
Earlier I got a call from my sister, Beth. “Hey Becky, the Dr. told Mom that
Daddy has the worst type of cancer, Glioblastoma. The Dr. wants to meet
with the family tomorrow.”
After the call, I marveled at my reaction, or lack thereof. Maybe I got it all
out of my system? But then I heard my inner voice, “Lost…I feel so lost.”
Nothing seems normal. It feels like things will never be ‘normal’ again.
I remember, after being in the hospital all day, I wanted, no, needed to
do something “normal.” I couldn’t wait for dinner to be over so I could
wash the dishes. I never enjoyed doing dishes so much in all my life.
Being back home, I keep trying to find that feeling of normalcy. I find myself
wandering around the house, or sitting mindlessly watching TV hour after hour.
Maybe watching my favorite shows will help…nope.
My world’s been shaken and I don’t know if life will ever be normal again.
Lord, help me find my place again. Help me feel safe. I don’t know how to deal
with this? Fear has become a close acquaintance.
After I wrote this, I flipped through the channels and found Joel Osteen. His
message was so encouraging. I looked over at my husband and I could see the
burden was lifted from him as well.
“I feel normal.” I told, Todd. I was shocked by my own words. For the first
time since Dec.22, I felt normal.
“That’s good babe. I do too.”
My Lord comes through for me in some of the most unique ways. Either
way, I'm going to enjoy this.
| Author Notes |
This is happening in my life right now. I'm writing to try and deal with the pain of losing a parent and the move into a new stage of life.
The photo is of Daddy playing cards with us. He loves to play cards.:) |
By rwilliam
January 8, 2020, Wed. This morning Todd and I went outside to sit on the
porch swing and read from the book, “Live The Let Go Life,” by Joseph Prince.
Here’s what I read:
-John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world
gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
When we choose to not let our hearts be troubled, the peace that is in our spirit
will go from our hearts to our souls and into our bodies, and we will experience
the fullness of the health, provision and peace that He paid for us to enjoy.
I stopped reading at that point. What a major difference truth can make! The
seed had been planted before, but God took it to a deeper level in my soul.
It’s. so. simple. Choose to not let your heart be troubled.
Last night, when I was praying for Todd and I, You spoke through me, Lord.
“I am the lifter of your head. Keep your focus on Me.”
That’s how I choose, to not let my heart be troubled. He does it! He lifts
our heads. He comforts, reveals, brings peace, with truth. His truth.
That doesn’t mean I’m not sad, or will ever be sad. But, He doesn’t want me
troubled, wringing my hands, as if I have no helper or comforter.
I’ve been crying for You to help me understand and You answered, Abba.
I’m sitting here waiting for another conference call with my family and doctor.
I’m asking for Daddy to be miraculously healed, and stay here on this earth
with us. But, if he goes home to Heaven then he will have the ultimate healing.
He will never again experience pain, or sorrow. He will be with our Lord Jesus
Christ. I am jealous.
I didn’t realize how much I relied on the things of this world, to find peace.
This morning when I woke up, I told myself, “Exercise before you get this call.
It’ll release endorphins and help you deal.”
Things of this world can bring some level of peace, but not the peace that
surpasses all understanding. My Lord Jesus died for me to have health,
provision and peace, but I have to choose to honor Him, by not letting
my heart be troubled.
I wish I could say that I’ll never again be troubled…HA! I know me. But,
I do desire to walk in this truth, by His grace, more and more.
The enemy is tricky, he’s been using the same tired tricks, since the
beginning of time.
January 12, 2020, Sunday. I was thinking about how our lives absorb the
experiences we’ve had. I saw a man speaking recently on TV about his near
death experience. He said that each person’s life was a book, angels would
go and read our stories and then know how to come here and help us.
Maybe that’s why we feel on such a deep level. Our lives are pages that
absorb the ink of the events we’ve encountered and become a part of us.
Good or bad, they are there, permanently. Then later chapters can be
‘edited’ to bring healing to the prior negative events, but the etching is still
there, tattooed on our hearts.
I was reading a story a friend had written about her grandparents. He was
thinking back on his courting days with his wife. That’s when I realized, our
lives are like books. Writing is always happening, and sometimes the pen cuts deep.
| Author Notes | I appreciate you taking the time to read about the journey life is taking me and my family on right now. Through it all I know I have a helper who will never let me down, my sweet Jesus. |
By rwilliam
I had to run to the grocery store today. On the way home a catchy song
came on the radio and I started to snap my fingers and bounce along with
the song. Suddenly, I froze, guilt washed over me.
Is it ok to be happy? To feel joy with Daddy suffering in the hospital?
As silly as that may sound, the guilt was real. I woke up sad today. I’ve
had a few days reprieve. The updates from my sisters have stopped. Part
of me thrilled, and part of me felt guilty for being relieved. I don’t know
the ‘right’ way to behave in all of this. I worry that I’ll be perceived as not
loving my parent’s enough, if I don’t act the way my sisters believe I should.
I called Mom today, for the first time in about three days. I tried calling her
a couple of times, but each time I picked up the phone my stomach knotted.
I put the phone down…more guilt.
Lord, I’m trying to implement what You are teaching me about ‘not letting
my heart be troubled’. It’s hard, new information. I’m used to worrying,
carrying all the burden, guilt and condemnation. But that’s not honoring
You and what Jesus did for me at the cross. Thank You, for helping me.
It’ doesn’t mean I won’t be sad, or scared. Sigh…I’m so ready for the rapture!
While I waited for mom to answer the phone I felt sick,
“Hello.”
It didn’t sound like her at first and my mind rushed to worry.
“Mom? Did I catch you at dinner?”
“Yeah,” she cleared her throat.
“How are you? You’ve been on my heart?”
“I’m…good…I'm good.”
I could tell there was more behind that answer but she was sitting with
Daddy so I didn't push it.
“What are you having?” I asked.
“Mac and cheese,” she giggled. “Daddy’s having spaghetti.”
“Oh, that sounds good. How is Daddy?”
“He’s good, Doing all of his therapy…just a minute…Eldon, do you want
me to help you? Just a minute, Becky.”
“Of course, no worries, Mom.” I pushed the mute button and said to my
husband, “I feel sick. This is so hard.”
“I’m back, it took me awhile to open that,” Mom chuckled.
“Hey, Mom, tell Daddy that KC won their game 51-31.”
“Eldon, KC won their game, 51-31,” there was a pause and no response
from Daddy.
“Isn’t that great?” Mom nudged.
“Yup.”
I could feel both Mom and I had a hard time with his response. Daddy loves
football. I grew up watching sports with my Dad on Sunday afternoons in Iowa.
My Mom and sisters would take a nap after church, but I wanted, no, needed,
to be near Daddy. I hardly saw him. He was always busy, sometimes working
three jobs while going to Bible school, or as a pastor, busy with the congregation.
I grabbed time with him every chance I could.
A favorite memory was when we lived in Georgia. Daddy drove a school
bus in the mornings before going to his next job and then classes. I was
about seven or eight and somehow I’d wake myself up, jump out of my
bunk bed and run out into the hall of our double-wide trailer.
“Can I go with Daddy on the bus, Mom, please?”
I can still see Mom at the kitchen sink preparing breakfast and packing our
school lunches in brown paper bags. It’s still dark outside, the air is crisp.
Daddy stood leaning against the stove eating something.
“Why? Why can’t she go?” He asked.
Mom hesitated, her back still to Daddy. “Ok, I guess you can, but you have
to hurry.”
I was already changing from my nightgown into whatever I could find in the dark
to throw on. I was so excited my hands shook.
I remember knowing that Mom didn’t like it when Daddy and I had time
together. I didn’t understand it, but it was ‘there’.
Minutes later, I was climbing on the bus with my Dad, lunch boxes in hand.
It was cold. The whole world was asleep and it felt like we were the only
people alive. I felt so proud that my Daddy and I were on this adventure
together. I don’t recall us ever talking, we were probably too tired.
I’d go all the way to the back of the bus. That’s where the big kids sat and
I felt so grown up. I remember looking at Daddy through the mirror that hung
over the drivers seat. It helped me not to be afraid of being clear in the back.
When we made our first stop, I moved up to the seat right behind him.
He was my Dad and I was going to be the one to sit behind him!
It’s still a struggle adjusting to the person Daddy is right now. Will that change,
I don’t know? But it sure makes me miss him now.
| Author Notes |
Thank you for being willing to join me on this crazy journey.
I appreciate everyone of you who takes the time to read my work! The photo is of my Mother and Daughter. |
By rwilliam
January 14, 2020 Tuesday,10:30 a.m. I’m on conference
call with my family and Doctor…
“I’d like to see if he could go home on the 22nd. I don’t
think he should do chemo or radiation. I’d like to give him
pain meds and let him be at home and enjoy his remaining
days with his wife.”
That conversation really hit home for all of us, but especially
Mom. She’s been in denial, “I just want my husband back. I
want to go home. Daddy will be fine.” But now she’s realizing
that things may never be the same again.
(I have such a hard time writing that). Sigh.
My sisters, Mom and I, find comfort when we are all ‘together’
on the phone. I can feel their strength. One by one we open
up about something that’s particularly hard at the moment.
While we were talking, Mom started to cry.
She’s really hurting, bless her heart. She’s got to be feeling
powerless. I think Dad did way more for her, since her heart
attack and strokes, than she knew, and way more than we
girls ever realized. She isn’t as independent as she thought.
When I got off the phone, a tornado of emotions swirled
inside me. I couldn’t nail down what I felt. Physically, I felt
like I was being shaken by an earthquake.
I went to make Todd’s breakfast with the intention of not
saying anything until I could get a handle on what I was feeling.
That didn’t last long. I started talking, Not really sure what
was going to come out of my mouth? Todd sat in the recliner,
a 'deer in the headlight's' look on his face, but love in his eyes.
“I get so frustrated when my sister’s share about how Daddy
comforted them. Beth shared how her ex-boyfriend’s Mother
chewed her out, not realizing that it was her son who’d broken
up with Beth. She walked away crying and Daddy came over
and comforted her.”
My voice grew louder and my gestures more animated,
“…then…Judi shared about her first day at Jr. High School in
Indiana. A HUGE school compared to our little
Georgia schools. She had trouble with the locker combination
and finding her classes, so the next day Dad went with her and
helped her figure it out.”
I paused, panting. The emotions that slammed into me were
hard and fast, leaving me breathless. I felt shocked by these
stories, I'd given my right arm, to have a memory like that.
“Don't get me wrong, I’m happy that they have those memories,
but while they were talking I searched for a similar moment and
came up empty.”
I’m aware that I’m ‘spinning out’, but I need to figure out
where my emotions are taking me.
Lord, help me remember one memory of Daddy comforting me.
I went back to making breakfast, for about a minute,
when...I’m ‘off again’…
“I didn’t get that! I wanted, NO, I needed a relationship with
him and I didn’t get it. I heard him say many times, ‘We’ve
learned from our mistakes with Becky,’ but they never fixed
them. It was like, I’m over here, forgotten, and he focused on
my sister’s. Taking them on one-on-one dates, spending time
with them. Having a relationship. TEN years ago, I wrote him a
letter and told him I wanted to have a relationship. Not much
came of it. Then a few years ago you had that talk with Daddy
and told him how much I wanted to have a relationship with him.
He called a few times, but once we talked about the weather we
didn’t have anything to talk about. I’m jealous! Why am I always
left to the side?”
I laid my head on the corner of the island and wept bitterly.
Todd came over and hugged me and he started to cry.
“I hate to see you hurting! You’re right. You tried, I’m
sorry honey.”
Once the tears were spent, I lifted my head, “Wow, I guess
I had some old stuff that needed to come out.”
I felt lighter, cleansed. I believe my grieving is more about
what I’ve never had and lost. I’m beginning to realize,
when you have unresolved issues with a loved one that
is passing, the grieving is much harder.
| Author Notes | The photo is of my Dad and his brother, Richard. Daddy's on the right. |
By rwilliam
January 16, 202O Thursday, 8:18 p.m. My anxiety has taken
on a new form. I’ve never really understood it, and I used to
believe that if people just ‘sucked it up’ they’d get better.
How wrong I was!
The worst I’ve had was about a month ago. I was suicidal.
It was on my mind all the time. I’d catch myself walking
around the house and thinking of different ways to kill
myself and what I’d say in my suicide letter.
I mentioned this to my best friend who said, ”I’m really
worried about you, Becca.”
She’s not given to theatrics so I took note. I told my ND
who gave me some natural remedies that really helped…
until today. I'd filled out an application online. I haven’t
worked outside the home in twenty-plus years. I'm really
nervous.
Then I had to go to the store to try and find new eye-glass
frames for bifocals (felt old). When I got home and told my
husband I found a pair I liked, he got upset because they
would cost around three hundred dollars if I bought them
there. He only wanted me to try on one’s similar to those
online.
The misunderstanding upset me, I always try to please him,
I want him to be proud of me, and I know he is. Maybe I’m
more upset because I overacted and yelled at him? IDK?
I knew I was acting out of character but didn’t stop to take an
‘emotional check.’ He invited me to go workout with him at the
gym. I didn’t want to be around him at that point because I
didn't trust my behavior. He left and I made lunch. I suddenly
felt waves of nausea wash over me. The room was spinning,
I felt like I'd pass out. It scared me. I put down my food and
called my best friend.
“Gail, Is this a good time to talk?“
“Yes.”
“I need to process. I don’t know what’s wrong with me?”
I just started to talk, and talk and talk. She’s a great listener
and I love her dearly. She’s not afraid to tell me what’s what
and she’s earned the right to speak into my life. I felt better
after talking to her.
Later, I saw a photo my sister had posted of my parents.
She’d bought them a cap that says, “God is good, all the
time.” Daddy was wearing his own clothes lying in the
hospital bed, Mom by his side. It's wierd to see him looking
so normal, with all that is going on.
I was watching a movie with Todd when another wave of
nausea washed over me. My head hurt and I felt depressed.
"Are you ok?" Todd asked.
"I don't know? I feel weird. My head hurts, I'm nauseous.
I feel like I could pas out. I hate this feeling."
“Just try and think good thoughts.”
I got quiet. Bless his heart, he doesn’t understand.
“Do you need a hug?”
I couldn’t even answer, I just shrugged my shoulders.
He got up to hug me. I just sat in my chair. I felt bad
but also misunderstood.
“Are you ok?”
“I feel like you don’t get it. I’ve never had anxiety like this.
I was thinking of canceling my appointment with the Dr.
tomorrow for my anxiety med.’s, but now I think I better go.”
“Well, yeah, you should go,” he replied.
The majority of my fear is memories of past abuse surfacing.
With Daddy fighting cancer, my life’s been dumped upside
down. My safety nets blown out of the water. I’ve never felt
safe. Childhood sexual abuse has left me scared. I feel like
things are trying to come up that I am trying so hard to
keep down.
But...in keeping them down, I can’t heal… UGH, Lord, help me.
| Author Notes | The photo is of my Mom and Dad with the hats my sister got them. |
By rwilliam
January 18, 2020, Saturday,11:09 a.m. I woke up early
today. I’m feeling ‘off’. Todd’s still asleep. I’m listening to
worship music and scrolling through Fanstory reading. I had
the TV on for background ‘comfort’. The noise makes me
feel less alone, fills a void.
Anyway, Luke Combs song, “Even Through I’m Leaving”
came on. It’s a song about his Dad saying good-bye.
UGH, made me cry.
I’m still holding out hope and prayers for a miracle.
Please, Lord?
I've never prayed for the rapture more than the past year. I
feel like it’s soon. All the signs in the Bible have been fulfilled,
and we're living on borrowed time.
God gave me a vision one time, that I never forgot. Everyone
stood before the throne of God. I see this man on the left,
standing on the stage looking over at Jesus, his eyes wide with
revelation. He remembered Jesus, his life in Heaven before
he came to Earth.
Then...God speaks, his name. It isn’t in the Lamb’s Book Of
Life and he’s escorted away. I zoom in on Jesus. He’s weeping.
Sobbing like His heart is broken in a million pieces. This man,
His son, was being removed from Him forever.
When I pray for the rapture, I think about that vision. I don’t
want Jesus to be crushed because His children don’t remember
Him. He died to give them a way out.
I get angry at the church. They’ve done a poor, poor job of
representing our Lord Jesus Christ. They teach that He is angry
with them. NO HE’S NOT! God’s wrath was at sin…not people.
I heard this analogy and it’s perfect, especially with what I’m
going through with Daddy.
‘If someone you love has cancer, how much you love that person
is how much you will hate the cancer.’
God hates sin because it hurts us, but He loves us sooo
tremendously!
Maybe all of this is on my mind because of my past
issues with religion and my parents. I know Daddy
loved me. But many times when I was hurting so bad
I'd come to the church and I didn't get any help.
It was just more of, 'Do better and it will be better'.
All about me and my efforts, nothing about God's grace.
I'd walk away in tears, frustrated.
I remember the last time I'd gone to church for help.
Daddy was the pastor. I'd been out of the home for
about a year when I learned that my family was moving
to a different place in Nebraska. I was trying to get away
from an abusive boyfriend. He played mind games with me
and kept me 'off balance'.
I called home and Daddy answered. I cried, 'Daddy can I
move with you? I need to get away from him and from
here."
"Yes, you can."
I was so relieved. We'd been at the new place a few months
when my ex started calling and writing to me. He wanted
me back.
One day he showed up in town, unannounced. I was shocked.
He sweet-talked me and the next thing I knew, we were
headed to a movie and stayed overnight at a hotel. But,
of course, same ol' same ol'. The next day he was putting
me down and saying horrible things. I was in tears all the
way back to my friend's house. I watched him drive away
and I knew I'd finally reached my end. I broke free once
and for all. I have fond memories of him calling my
apratment where I would hang up on him over and over.
My friend and I rolling with laughter. Tears running
down my face. I was f-r-e-e!!
| Author Notes |
The picture is of my Dad, the last time he'd come to visit us at our home.
Thank you for reading and reviewing my work. |
By rwilliam
I had a dream-vision last year. It was so real, I remember it vividly.
I stood on a veranda in the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen with
my husband, sisters and their spouses.
We’d taken a break from a fancy dinner party and gone
out for some fresh air.
Behind us a row of majestic mountains, with sharp peaks, pointed
their jagged fingers to the heavens. A waterfall flowed beneath the
veranda into a river in front of the mansion. A silky breeze brushed
over my skin. I breathed deeply and gazed up at the stars, when I
noticed a rip in the night sky. A white light shot through the crack
with electric intensity.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I squeezed them shut and opened them
again. The crack was still there and grew wider. I saw two groups of
Angels, one on the left, the other on the right. In the middle was a
lone figure. I knew, I just knew, it was Jesus.
They floated closer and closer to us. I stuttered, trying to speak but
words wouldn’t form. I finally heard myself utter, “Angels!”
My family looked around the garden, thinking I was talking about the
statues. I was frustrated, unable to speak coherently or look away from
the sky.
Not finding the Angel sculpture they looked at me and then followed
my gaze up. We stood in awe, no one spoke.
All of a sudden we levitated off the veranda. I remembered holding
Todd’s hand. As we went up higher, my shins began to get that tingle.
I’m afraid of heights, Lord.
A shudder slid over me, down my spine and out my feet.
I’m not afraid anymore.
In fact, I felt excited. We floated higher and higher. I looked down.
Beautiful! The place where we had just been was breathtaking
from this arial view.
We entered a thick fog of clouds and then we were in Heaven. The
waiting room was full of people. I saw my best friend, Gail off to the
right. Todd and I stood in front of this beautifully crafted wooden bar.
God and Jesus were handing out drinks.
“This one will help you acclimate.” “This one is for healing.”
"This one for understanding."
I watched as they gave what each person needed. I was aware that I
was fighting to look up into Jesus’ face.
Why? You’re being silly, just look. It’s Jesus.
I slowly lifted my focus...up His waist, His shoulders, His neck…
He waited, watching me tenderly. He wanted to be seen. When our
eyes locked a waterfall of love poured from Him into me. It was unlike
anything I’ve felt in my entire life. I can still remember that feeling.
It came in waves, and with each one, joy and love pumped throughout
my being. I didn’t want to look away, ever. He had the cutest, little boy
grin on His face. He is handsome.
“I KNOW YOU! I REMEMBER YOU!” I explained with shocked joy.
Memories of us flashed through my mind. I was charged with pure love.
He is love!
I’ve heard that Jesus is love, but until you’ve experienced it, you just
don’t grasp it. We only have the love we’ve experienced on this earth
to compare it to, and it’s lacking!
I stood in a line waiting to go through two large wooden doors. The
designs on them were so intriquite. Angels brought us tools that fit
the giftings God had put in us at birth. I saw a beautiful Angel with
long golden hair. She was tall like us, with large iridescent wings.
She brought me a pen and papper. When she handed them to me
I suddenly knew my destiny.
I'm going to be a writer! A great writer. Oh, the stories I'm going
to write!
I couldn't wait to go through those doors. Let's get this started!
Anticiptaion and joy were my only emotions. But as I stared at
those doors I realized, once we go through them, we can't come
back to earth. I felt this pull between two worlds. The joy and
fulfillment of staying in Heaven and the pull to return to this world
and my loved ones.
An Angel, who looked like a fairy, floated over to me. She was small.
In fact, I remember thinking, she looks like Tinker Bell in Peter Pan.
She carried a quill and paper and she asked me questions.
Next thing I knew, we were floating back down to earth. The beauty
from this view was breathtaking. I marveled at how much I enjoyed it,
because I wasn't afraid....hmm...I wasn't afraid. That's how I need to
live my life.
I grew up with wrong teaching about God. I honestly thought that He
was on His throne, with a huge club, just waiting to smack me when
I did wrong.
That’s not who He is. I don’t see Him like that anymore, but I also get
that I have a ways to go in understanding His love for me. He’s pleased
with me, because He’s pleased with the sacrifice Jesus made for me.
I’ve accepted that gift of salvation. My name’s in the Lamb's Book Of
Life and I will spend eternity with Him.
So, in praying for the rapture, I’m also praying that His beloved children,
who haven’t accepted that gift, would see Him for who He truly is. He
is love. He loves you. He is NOT angry with you. He’s prepared a way of
escape. Just call on Him, He will answer. Come Lord Jesus!
| Author Notes |
The Lord has me on a journey of healing. Dealing with Dad's cancer diagnosis, and past abuse.
jgrace I love the art for this piece |
By rwilliam
January 21, 2020 Tuesday. As soon as my eyes shot open,
that familiar feeling washed over me. A suffocating mud-slide,
that weighed a thousand pounds. I groaned and shut my eyes.
I’m so tired. Tired of feeling like there’s nothing worth living for.
I don’t want to go on…
My mind quickly ran through my lists of fears. Daddy’s cancer,
money, job, relationships, my writing.
“Let not your heart be troubled. Neither let it be afraid,”
I heard Jesus say.
I softly repeated the words, intently focused on casting
my troubles to Him.
God told me, if I guard my heart, He’d guard everything else.
Everything! But if I don’t, He is a gentleman, and steps out
of the way to let me try.
I’m determined to get to the place where I live in the truth of
‘not letting my heart be troubled’. But until then, it’s a day by
day, sometimes hour by hour, effort.
January 22, 2020 Wednesday 11:42 a.m. I woke up nervous
this morning. Daddy’s being sent home today. I’m happy for him.
He is sick of being in the Hospital. It’s been one month today,
that he’s been there. I’m sad though.
How long will he be with us?
On Sunday, Todd suggested I call Daddy. I felt myself
retreating on the inside.
“You call him. He loves you too.” I deflected.
I think he could tell I was scared. Why was I?
He dialed the phone. It rang, and rang and…rang. I go from
being relieved to worried.
Is he okay? Will he remember me?
“Hello,” Mom answered.
“Hi Mom, this is Todd. How are you doing?”
“Oh…well...okay. We’re doing okay.”
Her exhausted tone hurt my heart. I wanted to crawl
through the phone and hug her.
“How’s Eldon?”
“Let me give him the phone. You can talk to him.”
“Ok thank you.”
All of a sudden, I realized that I had gotten up and I now stood
behind my husband in his recliner. The front door to my left.
My stomach was in knots.
Why am I so scared?
I felt ridiculous and yet powerless to ‘behave’ normally. I was
a little child, in an adult’s body, trying to cope with the emotion
and fear that bounced around inside me.
“Hello,” Dad answered.
Ugh, his voice. He doesn’t sound like himself.
“Hi Dad. This is your son, Todd.”
“Well, hello Todd. How are you?”
Whoa, that’s good, he knows Todd.
“Good. I’m here with your daughter, Rebecca. We wanted to
call and ask if you’ve been watching the football games?”
“No…this Hospital…the channels…only Hallmark on all the time.”
That bugged me. I know it's Mom whose been putting on the
Hallmark channel. It’s fine that she wants to watch her shows,
but think about Daddy a little. He’s lying in that bed and Hallmark
movies are not his thing.
He’s put in his time watching Hallmark shows for hours and hours,
days upon weeks to please Mom. It’s her turn to think of him and
endure some football.
Todd and Dad talked about the KC game and the one that was
about to come on.
“So how are you doing, Dad?” Todd asked.
“I’m doing well. The nurses have been asking me questions like,
‘do I have headaches or dizziness’. I told them no. I guess others
who’ve had my type of surgery do. I’m in no pain. I am so grateful
to God for that!”
“That’s awesome, Eldon. Well, your daughter’s here and she
wants to talk to you.” Todd reached out the phone towards me.
I’m backing away, waving my hands, shaking my head NO-NO.
I feel stupid for acting this way. I love my Dad.
Todd doesn’t speak, so I know I have to.
“Hi Daddy.” I said timidly.
Todd still held the phone. His face a big question mark?
I guess, I’m afraid that Dad’ll break. I don’t want him to hurt
and I don’t want to hurt. So denial, and shoving my head in
the sand, seems to be the order of the moment.
“Hi Becky.”
Oh sweet relief. He knows me.
“Hi. We wanted to see how you’re doing and see if you are
watching the game. I am thinking about you as I watch.”
I felt like I was babbling. I do that when I’m really nervous.
I honestly don’t remember much of the conversation. It was
surface, but I was just so darn happy that I got to talk to him
and he knew me. When we hung up though, I was really sad.
“He doesn’t sound like himself…” tears floated in my eyes,
“but I guess Mom didn’t sound like herself after her heart attack
and strokes either, so... it’ll take time.”
“Yes, it will take time, but I really think he’s going to be okay.”
Todd reassured me.
There’s a big winter storm in Nebraska today. My sister, Beth
drove down on the 19th to help Mom and Dad transition back
into the house. I’m so appreciative for my sisters help.
Lord, I pray for their protection today. Keep them safe. I pray
that coming home will be a good thing for my parents. Please
don’t let Daddy fall. I pray Momma will be sensitive to Daddy’s
needs and not expect him to take care of her, like before.
Lord, I continue to ask and believe for a miracle and that Daddy
will be with us, on this Earth, a long time. I ask for the abundant
life that You died to give us. Either way, I know you love us.
Thank You for watching over us.
| Author Notes |
This photo is my sister's Christi, Beth and Dad. Beth said, "When Daddy said he remembered me, I started to bawl. I didn't realize how much I needed to know that."
I guess I'm not alone in that fear. |
By rwilliam
January 28, 2020 Tuesday 11:52 a.m. It’s been nice to have
a reprieve from the ‘edge of the cliff’ with Dad. I have enjoyed
feeling like life is ‘normal’ again. So why, do I keep worrying?
I spoke my affirmation, “Let not your heart be troubled,” many
times…but it didn’t seem to work.
I struggle with the lie, “Am I letting God down because
I’m not at peace?”
Today’s Daily Devotional, by Joseph Prince. “Ephesians 6:16,
…above all, take the shield of faith to quench all the fiery
darts of the wicked one. Why? Because the shield of faith will
cover you all around. Amen! That is why the devil is after your
shield of faith—he wants to make you doubt God’s Word…”
Doubt, that’s the word that ran though my heart.
“…as you listen to messages about Jesus’ finished work and
your faith is being built, your shield is also being built.”
Okay, my shield is being built. Be patient with yourself. God’s
got this! Breathe.
I turned on Joel Osteen and heard, “…God’s got this.”
Hahaha, Okay, Lord. Okay. I just need to hang on. It’s not a
sprint, it’s a marathon. Be patient with yourself.
I know one day I’ll look up and see that I’m standing on a firm
foundation. Fear unable to push me around, like it used to. I’m
really looking forward to that day. I have to remember. I’m in
‘boot camp’. It’s new for me to, ‘live the let go life,’ to trust God.
Trust is a big issue for me, with so much abuse as a child, trust
is not a word I’ve known. But, I refuse to be a victim. I am more
than what has been done to me. I am the righteousness of God
in Christ Jesus.
| Author Notes |
Monarchy by Alyse Dietel .I LOVE this piece. I feel like this elephant. Trying to let go of issues and fly. :)
|
By rwilliam
January 28, 2020 1:55 p.m.
I just got an unexpected conference call. They’re talking to the
Dr. about radiation treatment. Daddy’s having trouble finding
words for his thoughts and blank staring.
UGH.
My mind reeled. I didn’t know he was back at the Hospital?
No one told me.
The Doctor asked about surgery’s he’d had.
“Dad’s Uncle, on his Mother’s side, had brain cancer.” Someone
told the Doctor.
Several of my sisters, myself included, didn’t know this.
“When Eldon was six, he had his tonsils out,” Mom said.
I drifted off, thinking about my Dad as a kid. How much I don’t
know about him. That made me sad.
“It’s an aggressive tumor… survival is longer.”
What? Now the Doctor says one to two years to live?”
WHOA five weeks of daily radiation…NO!! I don’t like radiation.
It can spread the tumors and you end up with cancer in other
parts of your body.
The conference call continued...
I don’t like this Doctor! He’s trying to say that radiation doesn’t
harm you! HA!! What a lie!! I’m worried for Daddy. He said at the
beginning of the phone call, “I don’t want to be sick” and yet this
Doctor is pushing radiation.
The Doctor kept spouting his treatment plan…
O!M!G! I’m shaking, I feel SICK ! The side effects of this is horrible!
COME ON!! This is my Dad, too! I do not want him to go through this!!
Oh Lord. Daddy’s not as good as I’ve been told or wanted to believe.
He is having trouble putting thoughts together. He’s slow. Now his
life span, according to this man, is 1-2 years.
I trust in You Lord. Help me cling to You.
I grip my life-line with trembling hands, “do not let your heart be troubled’.
January 29, 2020 Wednesday.
I talked to my sister, Judi today. I couldn’t let go of my issues
about Daddy doing radiation. I mean, we all, were against it and now…
“So, how are you doing?” Judi asked.
“Um..well…I… I don’t know?”
I desperately searched the ‘bottom of the barrel’, and looked
for some measure of courage. I’d shared the truth God had
given me, about guarding my heart and He’d take care of
everything else.
I felt an 'older sister' urge to stuff my feelings and put on a happy
face. But I don’t have a poker face. I chucked that idea, and decided
to be honest and real.
‘I’m just confused? I thought we were on the same page about
not doing radiation. There are alternatives. Then this Doctor
pushed his agenda and said, “Radiation. Good.” and we’re all
on board?”
Yep! I’m on a rant, fueled by my fear.
"The stuff I’ve read, written by Doctors who’ve used radiation
and chemo, said it can spread the cancer throughout the body…
Plus, Dad said he didn’t want to be sick. This stuff will not give him
quality of life. It will make him sick.”
Judi patiently listened.
“Well, ultimately it’s Mom and Dad’s decision. He said he’s at
peace about doing it, so we have to support him,” she replied.
"Yes, but I think he's at 'peace' because he's not been given
another option....but, I guess he really can't research it or
comprehend it all so, I dont' know?"
I could feel myself relax. She’s right. It's Dad's decision and
since he can't really process, I don't have a choice but to let it go.
“I’ve done all I can and I’m about at the end of my rope.”Judi
shared. “Mom resists me constantly. I asked why she seemed
so frustrated with me. She said, ‘You act like we're children
and we can’t do anything for ourselves.”
And she can’t! She forgot Dad’s seizure medicine yesterday.
When I asked her about it, she got angry.
‘It’s no big deal. The sky’s not going to fall if he doesn’t have it,’
Mom replied.
Mom just doesn’t get it! I told her today on the phone,
‘Mom, I’m not going to check in or bother you anymore. If
you need help, ask, we will be happy to help, but I’m not
going to, unless you ask.’ Mom was like, ‘Good! Great!'
I realize that we’ve been operating out of fear, and I just
need to step back.”
“Good, Judi! I think you should. I’ve been worried about
you and your health.”
It’s hard to remember that Mom’s not well. The strokes and
heart attack have changed her. She’s very stubborn and
doesn’t reason well. But because you can’t ‘see’ that, I
think we forget.
Lord, help me not to worry. You keep reminding me that,
“You’ve got this!” I want to believe. I choose to believe…gulp.
| Author Notes | The photo is of me and my sisters. I'm the eldest, then Judi, Beth and Christi. |
By rwilliam
February 1, 2020 Saturday 2:26 p.m.
Today has been hard. I felt overwhelmed and so discouraged.
My husband and I had a disagreement and he made a comment
in passing, “I can’t live like this anymore. Maybe we need some
time apart.”
I was surprised. Why is he saying that? We’ve been getting
along great, or so I thought.
Friday we had an end of the year meeting for the company
my husband started. It took an hour and a half to get there.
He’d mentioned that we’d make a stop for me, before the
meeting, because the place would be closed after.
Whenever I get in a hurry, I start to shake and get irritable.
He moved slow and I was frustrated because we were running
out of time.
I have way more to do to get ready and I’m waiting on him.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins. The thought, I have
to fight for what I want, passed through my heart, so subtle,
that I didn’t take note and adjust my behavior.
I’ll start the car and get it warm while he gets ready.
I took our water bottles, his satchel with the papers he needed,
my coat and purse, out to the car, to save time. But my
impatience grew.
“Come on! What is taking you so long?” I yelled from the
front entryway.
Now he felt rushed and wanting to please me, he hurried,
got in the car and realized, as I pulled out onto the highway,
that he'd forgot to do a couple of things. We were both irritated.
Todd and I grew up in homes where there was a lot of yelling.
Unfortunately, we both can raise our voices when we are stressed.
I hate when I get like that, as does he, and yet, here we were.
Part of it, is because my nerves have been on edge since
December and Dad’s diagnosis. For the mot part, I’ve been
quiet and on auto-pilot. But recently, it’s felt like things have
bubbled up and I can’t control them or keep them stuffed down.
It scares me, for the very reason Todd mentioned, leaving me.
We talked it out and he said he really didn't want to leave, he just
didn't want us to go back to the way we used to talk to each other.
I don't either!
I’ve never felt like I ‘belonged’ anywhere. I have such a need to
be ‘seen’ so to speak. I think that comes from being silenced
through abuse. It's more of a need to feel like I am loved and
belong. That I matter.
My Mom conceived me one month after marrying my Dad.
She’d had a hard childhood and was a little momma at a
very tender age. She had to help my Grandma raise her
twelve brothers and sister. So when she and Daddy fell
in love and married, I personally believe she wanted more
time with him. To conceive me so quickly, she was thrust
back into “Mommy mode”. I say this to explain what
happened next.
I was told this story at a very young age and multiple times
growing up. The story is that Mom was “big pregnant” with
me. I don’t know how far along?
Anyway, one night her and Daddy stood behind the car
looking up at the moon in their driveway. The car slipped
out of gear and knocked Mom down. The back tire hit her
in the back around her shoulder blade. I have a large birth
mark in the same place. Daddy was able to stop the car
from rolling over her and killing us both.
Mom said to me, “My stomach was as hard as a rock and
you didn’t move for days. Daddy tried to get me to go to
the Doctor but I refused.” She had a smirk on her face.
Eventually, Dad made her go.
"The Doctor was very angry that I waited so long to come
in," Mom said. She seemed, 'satisfied' about that choice.
I've always 'known' or believed, that she hoped she would have
a miscarriage.
One time, while I helped her make their bed, she said, “Yeah,
I never thought I’d have a snot-nosed kid sitting in a high chair
eating wedding cake on my first Anniversary.” She seemed angry.
I added up how long it took to get pregnant and then from their
anniversary to my birthday. They were married October 6th.
I was born in August. The numbers didn’t add up. I would have
been two months old on their one year anniversary. No way was
I old enough to eat cake or sit up in a high-chair.
I felt her disdain towards me. That ‘wish’ that I ‘d not been
around. At least that was my perspective. It continued through
out my life and our relationship. That doesn't mean she doesn't
love me. She did the best with what she was given growing up.
Things have been so much better with Todd and I the past
couple of years, and I’d just begun to feel secure and then
swoosh, the rug’s pulled out from under me.
Now, my mind questions him when he says he loves me.
Do you? Or are you really thinking about leaving me?
Sigh, I get that this comes from a life-time of abuse, emotionally,
physically and sexually. Plus, I’ve never loved anyone like I love
him. I love how we laugh and joke around. He’s the best lover
I’ve ever had and I love our life together.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I’m not worth anything. So
much abuse sent me that message. I believed I was here to
be used by horrible people and discarded like trash. But God
is re-teaching me the truth about who I am and my worth.
| Author Notes |
Thank you for reading about my journey of healing and change.
booklotto, thanks for the use of your cool art! |
By rwilliam
A couple of memories came up out of the blue today. I hadn’t
thought of them for years. Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling
so out-of-control.
It’s 1982, I was seventeen years old and my family had to go
out of town for something. I’d asked if I could stay home alone.
It was unusual, but they agreed.
At school that Friday, I’d mentioned to my friend Tammy,
that I’d be home alone. There were others standing nearby
but I didn’t give it a second thought. That would prove to
be a big mistake.
My family left and I went to bed and fell fast asleep. I woke
up to voices yelling, “Becky! Wake up! Wake up!”
I was an extremely sound sleeper, and I don’t know how long
they’d been yelling. The head of my bed faced a window to
the front porch. I’d left the window open so I could feel the
breeze.
“Wake up! BECKY! Hello! Wake up!
I remember saying as I rolled over, “Who do you think I am,
Sleeping Beauty?”
Hahaha, I don’t know why I said that. But the continued yelling
woke me up fully. I looked over at the window and saw about
five guys. One guy’s face was pressed right up to the screen
and another was trying to figure out how to get through the
screen.
My heart pounded out of my chest. What? Who is that?
“What do you want?”
I could tell there were more guys walking around on the porch
and around the house.
“We want to come in and party,” one guy said. “Open the door!”
I was frozen with fear. My mind couldn’t comprehend what was
happening. I finally got out of bed and walked to the living room.
When I switched on the light, a bolt of fear shot through me. The
door was ajar, a couple of hands frantically tried to unlatch the
chain lock. It was the middle of the night and I was terrified. They
kept yelling for me to open up.
I walked over to the door, “What do you want?”
“We want to come in and party, that’s all.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll get it.”
But when they removed their arms and I had shut the door,
I couldn’t unlatch the chain. Something told me this was very
wrong and not to trust them.
Looking back, God watched over me. He gave me the courage
not to give in to this abusive behavior. Something that many
people struggle with when their will is trampled on as children.
They’re unable to stand up for themselves. I mean, how those
guys didn’t get in through the screen on my bedroom window
is supernatural.
I held my hands against the door, trying to ground myself. I
turned and shut off the light and went back to bed, hoping
they’d get the message and just leave. They were pissed
and someone slammed their fist against the door. I could
hear cussing and swearing and then it was quiet.
Oh good they left, I sighed, and laid back down to try and sleep.
All of a sudden I heard a loud crash. I jumped out of bed and ran
to my sisters' room and flipped on the light. Someone had thrown
a rock through the large antique window. Shattered glass covered
the twin beds and floor.
I turned the light off and ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone.
I happened to glance out the kitchen window and saw about seven
guys running to jump in their car. They laughed and carried on as if
it was a game, and then tore out of our driveway.
My entire body shook. I remember just punching at numbers,
too afraid to turn on the light. Lord, help me get ahold of Aunt
Deanna. I was desperate.
Honestly, I truly believe God dialed her number. The phone rang
and rang. Oh God, please. Please let her answer.
“Hello…”
“Aunt Deanna, it’s Becky. Someone’s trying to break into my
house. They broke the window in Beth and Christi’s room.”
I could hear her waking up my Uncle Richard, while she assured
me, “I’ll call the Sheriff, and we’ll be right over.”
By the time I hung up, the guys were back. I ran into my parents
room and then into the laundry room. I squeezed down between
the washer and dryer. The cold metal of the machines pressed
against my body. I was terrified!
My heart banged against my ribs, I could hardly hear anything
else. I looked up and saw a face peering through the window
right at me. He couldn’t see me, but I could see him. Then I
heard the sound of crunching glass.
Oh God! Someone’s in the house.
Suddenly, I heard my Aunt banging on the back door, “Becky!
Becky!” Her voice was panic-stricken.
It took me a minute to move. My legs were rubber and I could
hardly breathe, my heart pounded so hard. Plus, I wanted to be
sure it was safe to come out.
“Becky! Becky! It’s Aunt Deanna.”
I walked to the back door and opened it.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so. They broke the window in Beth and Christi’s room.”
“Get some clothes, you’re coming home with us.”
My Uncle walked around the house and the Sheriff was on the
way. I never talked to Uncle Richard about that incident, but I
think he saw a lot of the boys scatter when they pulled up to
the house.
While I gathered my things, the Sheriff arrived. He’d pulled
over their car and had about five of them. The rest he picked
up trying to walk home on the highway. The Sheriff asked me
to come outside and identify them.
I stood on my front lawn, embarrassed. Our neighbors outside
in their night gowns and robes, gawking. Lights flashed. One of
the guys kept yelling my name, but I ignored him. I told the cop
I didn’t know who all was involved.
Then the guy who’d been yelling for my attention came over,
his hands cuffed behind him. He was pushy.
“Can I just talk to her for a minute?” He begged the cop, who
was holding him back from coming over to me. Now he was
desperate.
The Sheriff agreed, to my dismay, and walked a few feet away,
but watched us intently. I remember thinking, does the Sheriff think
I'm in on this?
“Tell them we didn’t mean you no harm. We just wanted to party.
I can’t go to jail. I signed up to be in the service. If I go to jail, I
can’t go into the service.”
Like I gave a rats ass about this guy!
I recognized him. He was in my class, a Senior, but some of the
other guys were a year younger. I remember being shocked that
one of the boys was a popular preacher's son who was a year
behind me.
Why is he here?
I didn’t hang out with any of these guys and was confused at the
whole situation.
I timidly spoke, “Why did you do that? You guys scared me.”
He kept begging me to lie and tell the Sheriff that I’d invited
them over. He kept getting in my face in an aggressive manner.
I don’t know if he was drunk or on something? I looked over at
the cop, who’d seen enough.
He marched over and grabbed him by the arm “That’s enough!
Let’s go!”
I honestly don’t remember locking up the house. Maybe my Aunt
or Uncle did? Aunt Deanna got the couch ready for me. I saw such
fear in their eyes.
Aunt Deanna said, “You know what those boys wanted, don’t you?”
NO! I hadn’t thought about it. But then I realized what she meant.
What an awful feeling! Someone meant me harm and yet I felt
shame? UGH!
I worried about my parents and how they’d react when they got
home. I was scared, I would be blamed, even though it wasn’t my
fault. I grew up in an era where children were to be seen and not
heard. I don’t recall my folks asking me my side of situations.
They were judge and jury.
Thankfully, the next day when my folks returned, not much was
said about it. I don’t recall having conversations about it either.
I do, however, remember Daddy and I stood on the front lawn.
He said, “You don’t have to worry about any of this. I’m going
to go to court for you and I’ll take care of it. You don’t have
to worry. And if they bother you about it at school, if they say
anything, you let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
So, I do have a memory of Daddy looking out for me. I felt cared
for. It was a nice feeling, that I wished would have happened more
often in my life. And I know this, if Daddy had known about a lot of
what I was going through, he would have defended me.
| Author Notes | The photo is of my pet Goliath. He's in Heaven and I miss him a lot.His photo is comforting for me, so I chose it for this piece. |
By rwilliam
February 4, 2020 Tuesday 5:27 p.m.
My sister, Judi called today, “Do you still get that sick feeling
when your phone rings?”
“Ha ha, yeah…my first thought is, ‘oh crap!’ but it’s getting better.”
“How ya doin’?” Judi asked.
“Good. I’m good. What’s going on?”
“Mom called this morning. Dad fell last night…”
“Oh, no! Is he ok? Did he hit his head?”
“Yeah! I guess he got up to go the bathroom around 4:00 a.m.
He lost his balance and took several steps trying to right himself.
He ended up hitting the doorframe with his head and reopened his
surgery wound. He would have been better off just falling, but by
trying to get his footing, he ended up really hurting himself.”
“WHAT?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how Mom got him up, but she did. Took him
to the ER all by herself.”
“Whoa, go Mom! I’m impressed.”
“Mom refused to let us move the bed. It’s dangerous for Dad
to try and walk around it and the dresser, especially since he’s
still using the walker,” Judi sighed.
It doesn’t make sense, but I don’t get angry with Mom. She
can’t reason properly. I do, however, get frustrated with my
two sisters who live there.
In my opinion, they should go in and make it safe, no matter
what! She’ll get over it. She can’t move the bed back. It’s
these kind of things, that are hard to deal with living so far
away. I’m not there, on the front lines. It’s easy for me to
make assumptions or judgements. Who knows what I’d
really do if I lived there? I don’t know?
Judi and I said our good-byes and I called Mom.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called you back,” Mom apologized. “My
life is just so busy right now.”
“It’s alright, Mom. I totally understand. It’s fine.” She sounded
so tired. Oh my heart.
“Dad took a tumble," Mom said. "He hit his head and had to
have twenty staples and four stitches. Blood was everywhere.”
I felt Mom cringe, as if she was bracing herself for a scolding.
She wanted to play it down, and I went along. I hate that she's
been made to feel that way. My sisters love them so much that
they overstep their boundaries and go into parenting mode.
“I’m sorry, Mom. How are you doing? How are you holding up?
“I’m good!”
“Oh Becky, someone’s calling on the other line.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you. Tell Daddy I love him.”
“I will.”
That call was too short. I decided the next time we talked,
I wanted her to know she can open up, be honest, real. I’m
not going to judge her or overreact. She needs someone to
hear her. Hear about what she’s going through in all of this.
Lord, thank You for being there for Mom and Dad. They need
Your help and strength. Provide someone for Mom to share with.
Help her to feel her feelings and not stuff them down. I pray,
that Mom and Dad are able to say all the things they need to.
More than anything, heal Daddy. Let him live a long time here
with us. Either way, I know You love us. Amen.
| Author Notes | It's so COLD here. This pic is of my fur baby and makes me smile. |
By rwilliam
February 7, 2020 Friday 10:05 p.m.
I’m home alone this afternoon. I worked out here and Todd went
to the gym. I’m in the middle of taking down Christmas decorations
and didn’t want to take that much time out of my day.
My sister Beth texted, ‘after the Doctor’s appointment Mom and Dad
went to have coffee with Frank and his wife. Dad went to the bathroom
by himself. When he came out, he had peed all over himself. Mom took
him home and cleaned him up. I told her she has to go with him to the
bathroom always. But especially when they are out! She now says she
sees that.’
Well, that information didn’t help. I’ve struggled calling Dad. I
know we love each other, but as far as a ‘relationship,’ we just
don’t have one.
Maybe that’s the fear that holds me back. I can’t recall how many
times I've gone to call Dad and then hung up.
So today, while Todd was at the gym, I decided to call. I picked up
the phone, gathered up all the courage I could find, and called.
Ring…ring….I stood up, paced in a circle, sat down, looked nervously
around the room.
Judi told me if I ask him a question, give him time to answer. Don’t
ask a lot of questions, quickly.
I called Mom’s cell first. I wanted her to be a buffer. No answer. I
called the land line, again, no answer. I'd been told not to even try
Dad’s cell because it wasn’t charged and he wasn’t keeping it near
him. But, I tried Daddy’s cell anyway.
“Hello.” He sounded groggy.
“Hi Daddy.”
“Well, hello there, Becky.”
“Were you napping?”
“Y…yeah,” he yawned. “I sleep a lot these days.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want me to let you go back to sleep?”
“No, no-no, I can fall asleep easy these days. I don’t have anything
to do. I’ll fall right back to sleep when we are done talking.”
We both chuckled. Then it dawned on me, he’s talking really well.
He’s not hesitating or taking a long time to answer. I was so excited.
I felt my spirits lift. This increased my confidence.
“Well, Daddy I'm sorry I haven’t called much. To be honest, I’ve
been afraid. I’m not sure why?”
“Oh well, you call me anytime you want. It’s okay.”
Melt my heart! That wasn’t what I was trying to say, but I went
with it.
“I love you, Daddy!”
“I love you too, sweetie! I like it when you girls call. When you call.”
Okay, try again.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called much Dad. I think it’s because I’m afraid.
I’m not sure why? I think I’m having a hard time coming to terms
with the fact that you’re not…Superman.”
“Ha, yeah, I’m not!” He chuckled.
“I guess, I have a lot of regrets, Dad. I’m struggling with not living
in the past.”
“No, don’t live in the past. It’s done. We don’t live there and you
shouldn’t either.”
“I just want to make you proud of me, and I feel like I’ve run out
of time to do that.”
“We are proud of you!”
“Thanks. I don’t know why you are proud of me, but I’m glad.”
“We are proud of the woman you’ve grown into. We love you.”
That made me feel so loved. Secure. I choose to believe and accept
this truth. I drive myself crazy with doubt’s and fears. Well, not today!
It felt good to talk with him. There were moments of silence. I
could tell neither one of us wanted to hang up so we just waited.
We talked about the weather, but this time, I was so. freakin’.
happy. to be talking about weather, because I felt truly loved,
accepted.
I heard Mom cough in the back ground. “Is Mom free to talk?”
“Yes, she’s right here.”
“Okay, thank you, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you too.” I heard him hand the phone off, “It’s Rebecca.”
“Hello, Becky.” She sounded so happy. Like her old self.
Man, this call is going great!
“You want to hear something funny?”
Oh my word! This is the Mom I know and love.
“Yes. Of course I do!”
She laughed and laughed so hard that I started to giggle.
This is better than Christmas.
“Judi said Rachel called her yesterday. She was going upstairs to
get Charolette. She’d woke up from her nap and was crying. As
Rachel started up the stairs, a mouse ran across her path. She
screamed so loud that the mouse flipped over on his back, his
legs straight in the air and didn't move. A few seconds later it
came to, flipped over and ran down in the basement. Rachel
sat on the couch with Charlotte, her legs curled up to her chin
and called her husband, ‘I’m moving! I’ll send you my new address
if you want to come see us’. Judi was rolling when she told me."
Mom’s laughter was healing for my soul. I sat on the edge of my
recliner, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Lord, thank You for such a great call with both of my parents
today. It’s a gift I will treasure. Thank You for giving me courage.
I feel so much better.
I watched Sid Roth’s, It's Supernatural, today. There were three
prophets giving their 'word' for 2020. The one thing they said
that discouraged me was, ‘...this is God’s plan for the next twelve
years…’ Twelve years? I really want the Lord to return like…now.
I understand that it’s the grief and pain talking; I’m just tired of
feeling it.
| Author Notes | jgrace, I love this piece. I saw the title on your work and laughed. PERFECT! :) |
By rwilliam
February 10, 2020 Monday 6:33 p.m.
Lord, Todd and I are being ‘tested’. You've been talking to us about
guarding our hearts and You will in turn, take care of everything else.
When you’ve lived fifty plus years worrying and trying to control life,
it isn’t easy to suddenly stop worrying. But we both want to.
Lord, it’s really hard for me to see Todd struggling. He confided
in me at dinner that he feels ‘off’. He just did a beautiful painting,
gorgeous. He was happy with it and then this morning he woke
up and said, “I feel like it’s not good at all. Do you think I’m ready
to enter the Prix de West show?’
Lord, You know I really feel he’s ready. He’s so talented. More
than he even knows. Help him to have Your wisdom and peace.
I got a text from my sister, Judi this afternoon.
“Hey so I invited mom and dad to lunch. So nice to have them
here. Dad said he’s not sure he wants to do radiation and chemo.
I said again, that whatever he decides if fine. He prayed for
lunch and choked up a little. He’s been pretty emotional lately...
Mom seems to be doing well. Jordan is going to go put some
hand bars in the shower for dad.”
I found myself excited by this news. I’ve really been praying about
Dad’s cancer treatments. I’ve felt all along this wasn’t a good route,
but chose to support him with his choice.
I called Daddy. Yep, I wasn’t even afraid! He answered right away.
“Hey, Daddy. I hope I didn’t wake you up again…”
“It’s ok.”
“I got a text from Judi. She said you’re thinking of not doing chemo
and radiation. I just want you to know that I am so okay with that.
Todd and I have been praying about your treatments and I don’t
know? I have peace about this, Dad.”
“Yeah, I have peace about it, too. I’ve been praying about it. I
talked to a man last night at the theater and he had the same
cancer I do. He did the chemo and radiation treatments the
Doctor wants me to do, and he said he’s been weak and sick
everyday. He also said he’s only been out of the house twice
in one year. I just don’t want that.”
“Yeah, that’s not quality of life, Daddy.”
“I’ve not decided for sure, but that’s what I’m thinking. I have
others to think about.”
I knew he was speaking about Mom and us girls.
I got a text from Beth after I got off the phone.
“I spoke with Dad and Mom this afternoon. We talked about this
too. I told him the same thing Judi. It was a sweet, calm conversation.
I cried a lot when I hung up.”
Christi replied: “I’m very sad. I thought I was ok with him saying no,
but now I’m kinda a mess.”
After I read their responses, I wondered why I had such peace.
I didn’t feel like crying. I don’t know? I just know that I felt calm
about this choice. Whether Daddy goes to Heaven or is healed
and stays with us for years to come, I have peace. I’ll take it
and ride it as long as I can.
Thank You, Abba. I’ve strived for a lot of things in my life, but I’m
finding that peace is number one. I want that more than anything else.
11:22 p.m. W-o-w, okay! So my sisters are texting in a group text.
Each one sharing how they feel about Dad’s decision to possibly not
do chemo and radiation. It turns out that Mom and Dad want to move
into a retirement place. Judi put them on the waiting list today.
Sigh, that makes me so sad. Such drastic changes so quickly. I
shook my head, trying to somehow put my mind “right”.
When we go home, where will we stay?
I try to imagine my Dad in a retirement apartment. It feels like the
‘jumping off’ place. Just waiting to die. UGH. Why did this have to
happen? I can’t imagine Mom doing well without him. They are o-n-e.
I don’t see them as two people. My Dad still flirts with Mom. Chases
her around the house trying to pinch her butt. They are so adorable
together. I love how my Dad loves Mom.
Lord, help me walk this new normal road. I crawl up on Your lap and
bury my face in Your chest. Hold me tight. Let me feel Your presence.
You love me. You will never let me go.
| Author Notes |
The photo is of Daddy as a baby. So cute. I hadn't seen this until recently.
|
By rwilliam
February 15, 2020 Saturday 4:32 p.m.
Hi Abba, I was working out and all of a sudden a wave of grief
slammed into me. I am not used to this and it takes me off guard
every time. I received a text from my sister, Judi. She’d gone
over to see Mom today. Apparently Daddy slept in bed all day
yesterday, and he was sleeping when Judi went over. "It’s so hard
to see him just laying around." She said, "Mom looked so sad. We
hugged and cried."
I guess that conversation was on my heart while I worked out. The
thought, I won’t have a home anymore, flashed through my heart.
We are in the process of moving them into a retirement place.
Where will we stay when we visit?
And it’s not even about that so much, it’s what home used to be.
It will be so different. Lord, my heart hurts. I don’t like this pain. I
know your heart broke when Jesus died on the cross. I know it
breaks when anyone dies. This was not part of Your plan for
Your children.
We had a fabulous Valentines Day. I decorated the house, something
Mom did every Holiday. It’s a comforting memory and I enjoy it, it
makes the Holiday’s feel more festive.
Todd fixed King Crab legs and asparagus. His gift to me was making
dinner. I loved my gift! He hasn't done that in a l-o-n-g time. He
prayed the sweetest prayer, thanking You Lord, for all You’re doing
in our lives and growing our love. I felt so special. It was really nice
and the food was delicious. The rest of the evening was fantastic!
Best Valentines we’ve had.
Coming off such a fun day and then hearing from my sister about
my parents brought all that fear and worry back.
“We don’t need to focus on the negative,” Todd said. "When your
Dad passes, we will deal with it then. For now, I’m believing and
praying for a miracle. I mean, he’s just had surgery and then hurt
himself again with that fall. It’s going to take time.”
I sighed, he’s right. “I think I need to monitor the texts I read from
them,” I replied. "They tend to get worked up and then I get
worked up."
I'm trying to believe for a miracle, understanding that he could die
soon, but he could live a few more years. I need to refocus. I’ve
never walked greif's road, to this degree, before. It's a learning
experience. One I do not want to get good at, Lord. Ha ha.
I called Daddy yesterday. I knew I’d be sad if I didn’t call him this
Valentine’s and I couldn’t next. I’d woke him up, but he kept telling
me he would fall right back to sleep.
“Daddy, you did such a good job of treating your girls right. I
remember those tiny boxes of chocolates that you got us every
year. I loved those!”
“Yeah, I tried.”
“Well you did a wonderful job, Dad”
It wasn’t just Valentines Day either. On Easter and Mother’s Day
he’d give us girls a corsage, Mom too. I remember looking in the
fridge at the flowers in their plastic boxes. I felt like a Queen. I saw
Dad’s pride for his girls when he showed us all off. He loved us and
I basked in that glow.
Funny the things you don’t hold dear until something like this
happens.
Lord, You’re in control. But I am so ready for Your return.
| Author Notes | avmurray Love your art. Thank you. |
By rwilliam
February 18, 2020 Tuesday 6:14 p.m.
I woke up so depressed. How is that possible? I just woke up.
I got up and I heard the Lord say, “Come spend time with Me.”
I knew it was You, Lord. I grabbed my phone and glasses and
shut the bedroom door. I put on my robe and sat in the recliner.
I turned on the TV, which I normally don’t do when I spend time
with God. I found the show, Hazel and turned the volume down low.
Sigh. I took out my journal and felt nudged to grab my Bible. I
did, reluctantly.
I tossed the Bible on my legs and just sat and sighed. I opened
up my journal and started to write, next thing I knew I felt better.
I picked up my Bible and it opened up to Psalm 34:
I live and breathe God; if things aren’t going well, hear this and be
happy. Join me in spreading the news; together let’s get the word
out. God met me more than halfway, he freed me from my anxious
fears. Look at Him; give Him your warmest smile, Never hide your
feelings from Him. When I was desperate, I called out, and God got
me out of a tight spot.
God’s angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray.
Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how God is.
Blessed are you who run to Him. Worship God if you want the best,
worship opens doors to all His goodness. Young lions on the prowl
get hungry, but God-seekers are full of God. Come, children, listen
closely; I’ll give you a lesson in God’s worship. Who out there has a
lust for life? Can’t wait each day to come upon beauty? Guard your
tongue from profanity, and no more lying through your teeth. Turn
your back on sin, do something good. Embrace peace— don’t let it
get away! God keeps an eye on His friends, His ears, pick up every
moan and groan. God won’t put up with rebels; He’ll cut them from
the pack. Is anyone crying for help? God is listening ready to rescue
you.
If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked
in the gut, He’ll help you catch your breath. Disciples so often get
into trouble; still God is there every time. He’s your bodyguard,
shielding every bone; not even a finger gets broken. The wicked
commit slow suicide; they waste their lives hating the good. God
pays for each slave’s freedom; no one who runs to Him loses out.
I was amazed at how much this spoke to me. It was like God was
talking to me, personally. I loved it!
Then I watched a sermon titled, “Guard Your Imagination”. It was
talking about changing what I watch in my mind. "Turn the negative
channel to a positive," he said.
I discovered today, that I had a curse put on me when I was five
years old. It was so strong this past month, I didn’t know if I
could keep from harming myself.
I had a kinesiology session and felt such relief. A woman had put
this curse on me and my sisters that attached to fear and
apprehension. Excessive thoughts of harm being done to those I
love tormented me. I was constantly worried and afraid. It affected
my voice; keeping me from being able to speak up about what was
being done to me. It also affected my creativity and moving forward
in life. My Dr. said it was strong and tried to come on her.
Afterwards, I realized that I felt lighter…in my head. Like a vice-grip
had been removed and I felt a freedom in my mind that I haven’t
known my. whole. life. I remembered this thought flashed in my
spirit, Your hair will be restored. A little later I heard, Redeemed.
I felt a release of forgiveness, toward myself. As long as I can
remember, I’ve carried around guilt for my anger and rage that
would come over me as a child and young adult. The way I
treated my family hurt me. But I was only behaving like a
wounded person. Extremely wounded. In fact the word ‘shattered’
has come to my mind a lot lately.
Anyway, I was able to understand, that I sure as hell deserve to
let myself off the hook. It was enlightening. I believed, at that
moment, that I was truly not to blame. Therefore, I could forgive
myself.
Dr. Jen looked at me and said, "Go home; write and write and write.
Be creative. Dont' let anything hold you back anymore."
When I looked at her, she wasn't telling me this, God was speaking
through her, to me. I saw it when I looked in her eyes. It almost
felt like a mantle or mandate was given to me.
Lord, I know You are doing a work. I am so excited to see my
creativity blossom. To see my health improve, and especially
the restoration of my hair. I truly believe, something
supernatural happened.
| Author Notes | Linda Bickston ~I truly love your artwork. Thank you! |
|
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