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!!