This past few months, I have been angry... oh, so angry...
My mother struggled with mental health issues for a very long time. She faked a brain tumor, claimed to have been born with only one kidney, and then told us she was diagnosed with bi-lateral (both sides) kidney disease.
When the doctor suggested that "SOMEDAY in the future" she may need a pacemaker, and it may need to become part of her plans, she asked how she would know to let him know that time had come. Within a year, she had reported any and all of the symptoms he mentioned.. When he did the ablation on her heart and put in the pacemaker, she put herself at a point of no return, because he essentially killed her heart. From that point forward, every beat of her heart was artificial. Her pacemaker didn't "kick in" when her heart stopped like others who have a pacemaker.. her pacemaker worked 100% of the time...
Fast forward to 2014 when she was diagnosed, as was I, with diverticulitis. If you don't know about this disease, I promise you, you are blessed. It is PAINFUL.. it stops you without warning, whenever it chooses to do so. Some people who have it can't eat nuts.. some can't eat anything with a "hull" like peas, corn, etc. My personal trigger is popcorn.. and, of course, it is my favorite food on the planet! Mom's was never narrowed.
She struggled with this. It stopped her, as it does all who have it. She could not handle pain, at all. So, she sought a solution. 10 doctors told her she could have a colon dissection and resection, with a temporary colostomy, IF she were healthy otherwise.. my mom was NOT.. at the time she was diagnosed, she had diabetes, a pacemaker, liver disease, kidney disease, high blood pressure, was 125lbs overweight, had just lost her gall bladder, had secondary diseases brought on by the diabetes, joint disease and she had the mental health issues she had always had... so, these same docs who told her what would make her better told her they would NOT recommend surgery.. she simply may not live through the surgery. ALL of them told her to lose some weight, which would help almost all of her health problems, but most notably the diverticulitis...the theory is that if you aren't so overweight, the colon has more room, is not compressed and things can "move" through more easily.. Diverticulum occur when seeds, nuts, hulls, etc get caught in the colon and inflame the tissues, causing heat and pain until they move out.. sometimes the diverticulum form pouches and the colon has to be dissected at the point of the pouch, then later, after recovery, it will be rejoined and you can go back to a normal life. That was my mother's plan and hope.. however, the doctors told her it was unlikely...
Until she went to a surgeon who told her he felt she may be able to have the surgery, if it came down to it.. so, of course, with her need for attention and her "luck" so far with doing these things, she began to research and figure out what to say to the doctor in order to have the surgery she had now set her mind to.
In 2015, she was in the hospital 6 times for treatment of diverticulitis, but every time she went, the doctors said her symptoms didnt match the test results. I told them what I thought she was doing.. researching,telling everyone what they needed to hear in order to get the surgery she was convinced she needed and wanted. One doctor found that she had enough symptoms that he would do the surgery.. December 11 was her day.Unable to wait, Mom did more research. A week prior to her scheduled surgery, she went to ER again. The doctor there told her "perhaps Dr. ___ sees something I don't, but I see NO NEED for this extensive surgery and my fear is that you will have it and it will not be reversible and you will either NOT recover or you will have such a hard time, you will spend MONTHS in the hospital, only to find your issue isn't over and you have had no results."
I begged her not to have this surgery. I asked her not to overstate her symptoms. But, her mind was made up, the plan was set, and she WAS going to have this surgery. And,she did except she had to have it on the scheduled date of Dec 11. and things were very different than we had been told they would be..
Several days went by and she was told her surgery would NOT be reversible for many reasons
1) The person who marked my mother for her colostomy marked her incorrectly, which meant she would be unable to change her bag and care for herself, making her reliant upon home health care for the remainder of her life, once she healed enough to be home
2) The stoma formed as an "innie" rather than an "outie" meaning the traditional bags would never work for her
3) She developed an infection and had to have all her surgical wounds reopened. She would now have an 8" round wound which opened to her insides.. you could see everything if you looked..
4) She now realized she had done irreversible harm to her body and she gave up
5) This same doctor put her in a rehab facility and didn't bother to send any orders on how to care for her, so she laid there for 10 days with no medical care, in tremendous pain, until I went to the the doc and demanded they re admit her, and make her better!
Mom went back to the hospital, stayed there for several weeks and she never got better. Insurance sent her home. She stayed for about 10 days. She developed a small bowel obstruction and it never ended. No attempts to open her up and repair it, no attempts to find out what it was, she just laid there... for four long weeks.
On Monday, April 25, I visited her and she was non responsive, but I was assured by the nurses that she was simply "medicated".. and boy, was she.. Adavan, Morphine, Dilauded and Zofran/phenergan combo were ALL given within the same 2 hour time frame... Mom never recovered..
within 12 hours she was in the Trauma Surgical ICU.. she couldn't breathe, was diagnosed with respiratory failure and she woke up only long enough for the doctor to tell her "I can't make you any better. Do you want any ventilators ("no"), any CPR (no), shock (no), heroic measures (no)
She spent almost a day barely talking, then had a set back where she was non responsive. On Friday, we were told she would never come back to us and I made the decision as her "Appointed Next of Kin" to move her to palliative care. She lasted 12 hours. I was with her when the angels came. I watched that last breath. I held her hand, told her secrets I had never shared, told her it was okay to go to Heaven and be with my dad, her loved ones, etc.
For a week, I held my breath.. I didn't want to know when the cremation she had paid for was happening. My brother had left the hospital when they came for her body and I havent heard from him since. I found out there was a hold up on her death certificate. I took care of that. I now wait to hear I can bury her ashes. ..
I am mad.. at her for doing this.. at my brother for lying and telling me she didn't want to see me for 12 days after her surgery and for TEXTING me that they had found cancer.. at the doc for not only messing her up but for doing nothing to fix her. At me, for not making her see what she was doing..
Through it all, I grew closer to God. I knew that my mother's death would hurt, but with all the pain of her mistreatment through the years, the fact that she left me to deal with people who won't work with me on her estate, that she lied about paying for her funeral, that she changed her will over and over until we keep finding new ones... but I never knew I would MISS her. I really had prepared myself to be angry, to hate, and to need forgiveness for the hatred.. but not for the LOSS..
God has revealed to me a new plan for my life. I am now looking into Ordination, am writing new songs for a new project, have taken on a new job in a new Church, and am keeping busy.. but I HURT, in ways I never imagined. I ache for an argument with her because that was the norm.
I beg for the docs to call and say it was a mistake and they can fix her..
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Pain and Healing (sort of)
8 weeks and one day ago, my mother died. While I haven't had all the grieving, crying, sad times I hear you have when you lose your mom, I have changed, and I have mourned, just not in the all consuming way I did when I lost my dad. I have no living parents, grandparents, my only sibling and I never see or talk to each other and although I have felt like I was alone for almost my whole life, it is now that it is official. I am an adult "orphan" (for lack of a better word)... and I'm never going to have the family I wanted.. it's over... and I am so sad about that...I am sad that she didn't have her brother she longed to see by her side when she died. I am sad that my brother wasn't there, either, by choice. I am sad that the minute the mortuary came to claim her body, 3 of the seven adult family members I had in close proximity to me walked away and I haven't heard from them again... my step father, my brother and my only living uncle on my mother's side. NOTHING happened that caused this, no harsh words, etc.. they just didnt' want to go through it, so they didn't. I buried her alone, not at all what she expected... or wanted.I am sad that her death certificate was held up and that she laid in a mortuary cooler , her pacemaker still beating, for eight days, unitl I FINALLY fought hard enough to get it done. I am sad that her grave was dug in the wrong plot and she would have been buried in a plot belonging to another family had I chosen the path my brother and step father and uncle chose.. and no one would ever have known...
I am sad that all those she held in such high esteem abandoned her, and that I, the daugher she never wanted and never could quite care for, was all she had in the end. I believe it was ordained, however, because I did what I would have wanted her to do for me. I fought for her to be buried corrrectly and in the way she asked, where she asked under the circumstances she chose to utilize..
I am sad that all those she held in such high esteem abandoned her, and that I, the daugher she never wanted and never could quite care for, was all she had in the end. I believe it was ordained, however, because I did what I would have wanted her to do for me. I fought for her to be buried corrrectly and in the way she asked, where she asked under the circumstances she chose to utilize..
I am redefining who I am, now that I am not "Neva and Carl's daughter", etc.
While doing so, I am finding that my OCD is lessening. I no longer feel that I have to be PERFECT, a goal I could NEVER achieve. I could, however, keep the CLEANEST house, fix the most ELABORATE meals and have all the "go-to" answers for how to get a stain out of this or that, and THAT? That got me some level of approval. For a brief moment, I was enough! Which was so much more than I had ever been before.
I realized that where nature and beauty had failed me, I could make my surroundings perfect and I was no longer just "taking up breath and space" (a phrase I heard all too often as I grew up) but I was suddenly the person who cooked Thanksgiving and Christmas Dinners, and everyone loved the food, bragged on it. (I just realized that one person always said, "My favorite thing is that you do it all. You plan the event, buy for it, clean for it, cook for it, wait on us, send us home with wonderful left overs and then you clean it up when we leave, so it's clean when we come back"... you would think I would have seen what was going on right then, but I didn't! I thought it was high praise and for 19 years, I did it ALL, every holiday, every family gathering, making allowances for first this weight loss method one was on, then this diet for heart, this one for diabetes, etc.. no one ever noticed that I seldom sat with the family and ate. I was in the kitchen, cleaning, so they could enjoy it. But, for a day or two a year, I was a part of things, NOT the outsider... and I thought it was worth the trade off.
So, now that all those people I tried to win over are gone, who am I? What defines me?
Lately, I have tried to figure it out and THAT is what I am grieving. I don't know who I am now anymore than I did when I created this version of myself. What I want to be when I grow up has never been anything I got to figure out. Life just happened to me.
So, I have turned to my Bible and prayer.. I have studied and prayed, studied and prayed and I have gotten some answers, but I stlll haven't found what my new normal will be.
I know a few things about the new norm..
This Christmas season, I won't have to worry whether my mother will come to dinner and if she does, will she leave before it is served? Will she tell me she hates me, or will she tell me the room is too cold.. what will the excuse be for her coming, making a scene and then leaving?But, as sad and angry as this makes me,I will miss that, and I don't know how to make you guys understand it, but that was my normal, and I will mourn the passing of the way I spent the holidays...and, just like the day I heard there really wasn't a santa, I now know I can't go back and get another chance to have it.. my chances died...
Today, I was told, in anger, that I am just like my mother. I was called a bully and some other words,by someone who claims to love me, and then they said, "You are JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER- she's not gone, she just took over your body!"... BROKE MY HEART IN WAYS I CANNOT DESCRIBE TO YOU!!!!!
No, I'm not. I don't hate my mother, but I hated the way she made me feel about myself, and I did EVERYTHING I could to treat my children so that they never thought they weren't "enough". I never say no when my grandbabies want to be with me, no matter how tired i am, (although no one ever asks me if I am tired), no matter the plans I may have made that I change to make them happy, because my kids went through being invited, then at the last minute, if another option popped up, their visit was cancelled and I had broken hearted little girls on my hands.
I've never told my children they were hated or that I couldn't love them.I've never told them they were mistakes, or that I wish I had aborted them. I try to anticipate their needs when it seems they are struggling, so I can help them, because I was told, "I didn't tell you to get married and I will not help you in any way. You chose this situation, live with it"
I have never told the girls that they can't come home, (although I pray their lives take them places where that isn't an option they have to explore), because I stayed in an abusive house just because I was told "once you leave, this is not home to you anymore... you cant' come back, so make sure you know what you are doing when you leave".
I have never told them, "You'd better marry the first idiot who asks, because I promise you there wont' be two dumb enough to ask that question" Instead, I told them to never settle, to only be with someone who helped them be themselves, who lifted them up, who made them feel good about themselves, because they DESERVE that!
I AM VERY MUCH like my mother in many ways. I am an open book. If you hear I said something, ask me.You may not like the answer, but I'll tell you the truth. I may not like having to admit it, but I will tell you the truth. I dont knowingly force my opinions on others (although I am sure I have done so) but if you ask my opinion, I'm all too ready to give it, and I warn you that you may not like it.
I would NEVER, NEVER slap a child in the face... happened to me any time I asked "why" to ANYTHING. And if I said "I can't..." oh, boy, it was much worse.
I am glaringly different from her in many ways. I value honesty in a way that is almost maniacal. I had to keep many secrets as a child and I refuse to do so, now. I kept secrets as a young girl who was abused in many ways, and as a new wife who was being abused and cheated on from the get go. Once I told my truth, I stopped carrying those things in my heart and I moved on. My mother had her reasons, I suppose, but after she died, I found out a large part of what I had always believed to be my truth wasn't. She told us her funeral was paid for... nope.. had to pay. She told us there was a will.. there was.. in fact, there were several, but because she encumbered her property, nohting can be distributed, but must be sold to pay the debt. She told us she had life insurance, and even showed us the poicy, but got mad at this one or that one, and cancelled them.
She would put me on as power of attorney for her Medical issues, then get mad at me and tell the nursed not to let me come into her room. She had a living will and changed it, then changed it again and again, to the point that there was a living will made two days before she became incapacitated and it was just like the original.. I ended up being the one who made the decisions, and I was alone with her when she took her last breath because everyone else realized there was nothing to get, so they left. I never wanted anything but her love, so I stayed to see if I finally got that... in the end, I got one tear when I told her something I had never told her about.
So, I value honesty even more now than before.
I am different from her in the way I think.. If I want to do something, my first thought is, "How will this affect my kids? My husband? " and I don't do it if they don't benefit, even if I would. My mother didn't care who it hurt.. if she wanted it, she got it! No matter the cost or the consequence..
I don't look at myself and think of anyone wanting me in "that way", although I am certain there are men out there who want to be with a woman of my size (I'm not as big as those reality show women, but i am not a size 10 either) . My mother, on the other hand, thought that everyone who spoke to her was lusting after her and it made for many uncomfortable situations thoughout my life. I had boys who wouldn't come to my house to pick me up because she made them feel uncomfortable.
So, I'm not like her in that respect. In fact, I've had friends and family say, "He was coming on to you" and I never knew it! I was trained to think I am ugly and stupid and I never got over that idea, I suppose.
I told my mother I had been raped. She laughed. She said "A woman who doesn't want to be raped, can't be" and that was that. I told her it was a boy I dated. She laughed again. Two weeks later, she came to my house to tell me she had seen my rapist at the home of a friend and had danced with him at the party they were having... I would want to hurt anyone who hurt my girls!
I told my mother I was abused by my husband and was told "oh, well. You've always had that effect. People just naturally want to hit you.. you do that to people, Anita, and I don't think you even know it"
So, no.. I am NOT like her and she is NOT living in me..
We ARE alike in this way.. my mother said she had professed a belief in Jesus Christ before she died. I never got an apology or an explanation for the way I was treated, and she dind't change completely.. but I did see a change that I know only God can make.
So, we are identical in one way. We both will live in eternity with Him. I know that when I get there, she will love me. In that perfect and heavenly way, I will finally know what a mother's love feels like.
The beauty of the whole thing is that she changed moments before her death.. I get to live for HIm from the day I was saved in 1985 until He calls me home.
I pray you get a blessing from this
I was not trashing my mom, I was trying to show how the most awful of circumstances can turn into a blessing. Mom wasn't capable of loving me here, for whatever the reason. But she will love me there! And I look forward to that!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Family Bonding
This week, my uncle passed away. The 3rd born child and oldest son of my maternal grandparents, his mother, who is 85, has outlived one of her four children. It was a shock that he was dead, when my aunt who found his body called me on Tuesday to say that he had passed away, but he had been facing health problems, certainly. He was only 64, just this past February. He was only 15 1/2 years older than me. He should be here when our grandmother passes away. In other words, things don't always happen in the order we expect them to happen. We don't get to determine the order of things. We just arrogantly think we do.
My grandmother had been told very recently by this uncle that he knew where things stood between him and the Lord. Without going into details, this was someone in our family whose status with the Lord was not as well known as others, so this was a blessing to us as we said goodbye to him here on earth, to know we will see him when we see the Lord.
When two of his three children came to Knoxville from Georgia, I felt led to share with one of his sons, Rob, that this conversation had taken place. He told me "you don't know how much comfort that gives me"... I thought I understood. I didn't.
The next day, three of the 7 "grand kids" (all 7 of us are over 38, but are still known as the kids), myself, Rick, the oldest son of my grandparents' youngest son, and Rob, the middle child of the one who had passed away, were on our grandmother's front porch, and immediately the conversation had gone to our walk with the Lord, when just Rick and I were there. Rob joined us and added his own flavor to the conversation.
We had discussed our beliefs about Salvation, Death and it's consequences, Heaven, Creation and Hell... somehow, the conversation turned to how we wanted to witness to our family and friends but that was the HARDEST thing to do. I tried to quote a Scripture about how "the prophet wasn't recognized in his home town" and we all got to telling how we had tried to share news with our parents or our siblings, etc, but felt that it was because they know our shortcomings and our failures, so sometimes the people we love the most are the ones God has to use others to reach... that is when Rob shared a story we all can relate to... He wanted to talk to his dad about the state of his soul. but could never get him to allow that conversation. When he was told that his father was, as we put it "ready to go", it was an answer to his prayers that the Lord would send someone to make sure that he knew the Lord or lead him there, if need be. We marveled, as a trio, at how God always answers our prayers, sometimes in the way we want, sometimes not. We shared in Rob's joy at not having to worry about his dad's soul,at not having to think this goodbye was eternal. We recognized that God loves all of us enough that He made sure Rob's heart was unburdened as much as it could be in that hour when he faced saying "goodbye for now" to his father, and that Rob didn't carry that guilt for the rest of his life for not having been able to have that conversation with his dad.
All of us agreed that there was someone in our lives we wanted to witness to, but their position in the family or their personalities, etc., made it so hard that we can't be the one to do the witnessing to them that we want to do. We are asking Him to send the right one to them, so that we don't have to wonder if they are Born Again.
For me, it was my father in law. The Lord laid it on my heart to ask this man who had beaten and abused his wives (plural) and his son, my husband, this man who had been alcoholic all his life, if he had had a moment when he had asked the Lord to come into his heart and be his Savior. I really wanted to, but I didn't want to offend him, newly born again Christian that I was, and I didn't want to be the one to tell him that without Jesus, he was bound for a devil's Hell. I didn't want to be the one to acknowledge what we all knew... his cancer was going to kill him in a matter of days, barring a miracle. I got into the elevator and prayed, "Lord, please send someone else... and if he lives until my next visit, I'll do it. I just couldn't do it tonight"... my father in law passed away three hours later. I have spent the last 24 years wondering if anyone went to him that night... I praise God that Rob didn't have to live with this as I do.. .
It made the three of us, Rick, Rob and myself, marvel at how our Father cares for us, how Grace gets us through anything. We had Church right there on Nanny's porch. We worshipped Him with our testimonies, with our concerns and with our sharing of encouragement to one another. We had a time!
I told my husband that night that, while I, the eldest grandchild, had known all of the younger ones all their lives, and loved them all, I felt that I had gotten to know them in a "primal" way that day.
What is funny, looking back, is that God allowed us privacy.. that front door had opened and closed a hundred thousand times in the past 24 hours, but it only opened once in those 2 to 21/2 hours we spent together... no one came out and interrupted us, no one came in to comfort the family, and this was NOT what we had been experiencing... God ordained our time together, and even though I am saddened at my uncle's death, I thank God that we had that time together as adults, to talk this through, that we go to know each other in that way, and that we agreed to get the other four "kids" as they still call us (the youngest is over 30, and I, the eldest am 49) together soon, so we can get to know each other better. As kids, we were all closer to one or the other, but now as adults, we each have things we can bring to the table. We are all so different, yet still the same... we are all adults, yet, in that setting, we are still ten years old, as Rick put it.
Rick and I share that "first born" feeling that we have to do everything in a certain way, Rob is the only middle child, since his father is the only sibling of the four to have 3 children. Teresa and I are the only girls. Some are financially sound, with no future worries, some of us not so much, some are married, some never, some divorced, etc... we have all these levels of common ground. We want to explore our family relationships before one of this generation has to leave.
In hindsight, this is a foretaste of things to come in Heaven... I always think of Heaven in the literal. I like to think of us sitting around on one of our mansion porches, telling the tales of how He brought us through this or that, sharing memories, laughing together as we reminisce, etc...
I like to think that in Heaven that "primal" bonding we shared will continue, and those angels who sat around us unseen this past Wed. will be visible and sit around in awe as we share our Salvation stories... they don't understand that experience, and I can picture them just watching us and trying to understand how important that moment was in our lives, as if we are the actors in a play and they, our audience.
I end this post with two challenges...
1) Sometime soon, your family may face death's call. Will someone in your family be worried that the loved one is suffering Hell, or is it certain that all of you will be reunited?
2) Do you connect with your loved ones occasionally and discover your differences and marvel at how different yet alike you are? Do you share your testimonies with them? If not, do it... it will more than likely start a chain of events that will forever change the dynamics of your family. It will most certainly bring Glory to the One who wants us to share Him with the world... including our families.
It is His will that NONE should perish... don't be like me, wondering until that day if you were the last chance someone had to meet Him, but be sure that those you love are taken care of.
If a house were on fire and the person you most fear witnessing to were in it or about to go into it, would you rescue them or stop their entry? Of course... we all would... Hell is that burning place, and we are allowing people we love to just go on in. We don't even try to stop them. WHY? Will you have the Boldness, the Love, to stop them?
My grandmother had been told very recently by this uncle that he knew where things stood between him and the Lord. Without going into details, this was someone in our family whose status with the Lord was not as well known as others, so this was a blessing to us as we said goodbye to him here on earth, to know we will see him when we see the Lord.
When two of his three children came to Knoxville from Georgia, I felt led to share with one of his sons, Rob, that this conversation had taken place. He told me "you don't know how much comfort that gives me"... I thought I understood. I didn't.
The next day, three of the 7 "grand kids" (all 7 of us are over 38, but are still known as the kids), myself, Rick, the oldest son of my grandparents' youngest son, and Rob, the middle child of the one who had passed away, were on our grandmother's front porch, and immediately the conversation had gone to our walk with the Lord, when just Rick and I were there. Rob joined us and added his own flavor to the conversation.
We had discussed our beliefs about Salvation, Death and it's consequences, Heaven, Creation and Hell... somehow, the conversation turned to how we wanted to witness to our family and friends but that was the HARDEST thing to do. I tried to quote a Scripture about how "the prophet wasn't recognized in his home town" and we all got to telling how we had tried to share news with our parents or our siblings, etc, but felt that it was because they know our shortcomings and our failures, so sometimes the people we love the most are the ones God has to use others to reach... that is when Rob shared a story we all can relate to... He wanted to talk to his dad about the state of his soul. but could never get him to allow that conversation. When he was told that his father was, as we put it "ready to go", it was an answer to his prayers that the Lord would send someone to make sure that he knew the Lord or lead him there, if need be. We marveled, as a trio, at how God always answers our prayers, sometimes in the way we want, sometimes not. We shared in Rob's joy at not having to worry about his dad's soul,at not having to think this goodbye was eternal. We recognized that God loves all of us enough that He made sure Rob's heart was unburdened as much as it could be in that hour when he faced saying "goodbye for now" to his father, and that Rob didn't carry that guilt for the rest of his life for not having been able to have that conversation with his dad.
All of us agreed that there was someone in our lives we wanted to witness to, but their position in the family or their personalities, etc., made it so hard that we can't be the one to do the witnessing to them that we want to do. We are asking Him to send the right one to them, so that we don't have to wonder if they are Born Again.
For me, it was my father in law. The Lord laid it on my heart to ask this man who had beaten and abused his wives (plural) and his son, my husband, this man who had been alcoholic all his life, if he had had a moment when he had asked the Lord to come into his heart and be his Savior. I really wanted to, but I didn't want to offend him, newly born again Christian that I was, and I didn't want to be the one to tell him that without Jesus, he was bound for a devil's Hell. I didn't want to be the one to acknowledge what we all knew... his cancer was going to kill him in a matter of days, barring a miracle. I got into the elevator and prayed, "Lord, please send someone else... and if he lives until my next visit, I'll do it. I just couldn't do it tonight"... my father in law passed away three hours later. I have spent the last 24 years wondering if anyone went to him that night... I praise God that Rob didn't have to live with this as I do.. .
It made the three of us, Rick, Rob and myself, marvel at how our Father cares for us, how Grace gets us through anything. We had Church right there on Nanny's porch. We worshipped Him with our testimonies, with our concerns and with our sharing of encouragement to one another. We had a time!
I told my husband that night that, while I, the eldest grandchild, had known all of the younger ones all their lives, and loved them all, I felt that I had gotten to know them in a "primal" way that day.
What is funny, looking back, is that God allowed us privacy.. that front door had opened and closed a hundred thousand times in the past 24 hours, but it only opened once in those 2 to 21/2 hours we spent together... no one came out and interrupted us, no one came in to comfort the family, and this was NOT what we had been experiencing... God ordained our time together, and even though I am saddened at my uncle's death, I thank God that we had that time together as adults, to talk this through, that we go to know each other in that way, and that we agreed to get the other four "kids" as they still call us (the youngest is over 30, and I, the eldest am 49) together soon, so we can get to know each other better. As kids, we were all closer to one or the other, but now as adults, we each have things we can bring to the table. We are all so different, yet still the same... we are all adults, yet, in that setting, we are still ten years old, as Rick put it.
Rick and I share that "first born" feeling that we have to do everything in a certain way, Rob is the only middle child, since his father is the only sibling of the four to have 3 children. Teresa and I are the only girls. Some are financially sound, with no future worries, some of us not so much, some are married, some never, some divorced, etc... we have all these levels of common ground. We want to explore our family relationships before one of this generation has to leave.
In hindsight, this is a foretaste of things to come in Heaven... I always think of Heaven in the literal. I like to think of us sitting around on one of our mansion porches, telling the tales of how He brought us through this or that, sharing memories, laughing together as we reminisce, etc...
I like to think that in Heaven that "primal" bonding we shared will continue, and those angels who sat around us unseen this past Wed. will be visible and sit around in awe as we share our Salvation stories... they don't understand that experience, and I can picture them just watching us and trying to understand how important that moment was in our lives, as if we are the actors in a play and they, our audience.
I end this post with two challenges...
1) Sometime soon, your family may face death's call. Will someone in your family be worried that the loved one is suffering Hell, or is it certain that all of you will be reunited?
2) Do you connect with your loved ones occasionally and discover your differences and marvel at how different yet alike you are? Do you share your testimonies with them? If not, do it... it will more than likely start a chain of events that will forever change the dynamics of your family. It will most certainly bring Glory to the One who wants us to share Him with the world... including our families.
It is His will that NONE should perish... don't be like me, wondering until that day if you were the last chance someone had to meet Him, but be sure that those you love are taken care of.
If a house were on fire and the person you most fear witnessing to were in it or about to go into it, would you rescue them or stop their entry? Of course... we all would... Hell is that burning place, and we are allowing people we love to just go on in. We don't even try to stop them. WHY? Will you have the Boldness, the Love, to stop them?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Restoration
November, 2010..
I was so happy. I had received a "Word" from a Sister in Christ,and later in the day, Confirmation from a Brother in Christ! God was putting me into a new Minsitry, and I was going to be Restored! I was so excited! I was so very happy, so anxious to start anew. I just knew I was going to be singing again, Ministering His Word to others, sharing His love with the world again! I had waited SO LONG!
Whoa, whoa... put the brakes on there....
When God gives us a Word, we are NEVER in control... it is usually the polar opposite of what we thought it was going to be... He never said that we would be given the desires of our heart in the way that WE imagined it. He simply said that HE would give them to us, if we follow Him, serve Him, worship Him with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength.
Fast forward to Feb, 2011.
My granddaughter was born, my daughter was sick during the delivery, my grandson was staying with us while his mom and stepdad got settled in with the new baby, and he was sick. I began feeling sick. I couldn't be sick... I had Sunday School to teach, Messages to Prepare, Songs to work on for Praise and Worship, and a Bible Study to lead, all at our Church, except the Bible Study, which was at home.
I developed double pneumonia, (with no insurance) and the fight was on... I had to miss six consecutive weeks of Church. The odd thing was, no one called to see if I was dead or alive. No worries, Gary was keeping the up to date. I felt so guilty, not being there to lead P&W. I hated that my SS class was having to join up with another class because we had such a small Church, (less than 30 people during the time we were searching for a pastor) and no one else would teach.
I hated that I wouldn't be able to keep my word and deliver the messages on those Sundays I had been scheduled to speak, but I'd make it up to them, as soon as the Lord healed me.
IT TOOK MONTHS!None of the antibiotics and medications worked. I had developed an immunity to the traditional treatments. I couldn't shake the pneumonia... if only I could get to Church.
I got to attend one service, the first for my Granddaughter. I got to show her off, love on her, ask the Body to pray for me and for Lelina, the baby, who just wasn't well.. no one knew what it was that made her sick, but she was a sick little baby. She wore her newborn clothes until mid summer, in fact...
it turned out that she had a blood infection and once that was cured, she was good to go! No one called...
Fast forward to Easter. I was back at Church, and it was requested that I sing. I didn't know if I could, but I was willing to try. The Person in charge said, "no, there are going to be no more specials", it just takes up too much time during the service. (Later, I was told by my husband that this same person had told him that he just didn't want me to sing anymore, but not until much later) But on Easter, that same man got up and sung, a lady from the congregation got up and sung an impromptu medley and then the husband/wife team who had worked with me on Praise and Worship sang two songs.
I was so hurt that it was only me who couldnt sing anymore, but I figured it was because they were upset that I had missed so much since Feb. 1st and it would pass.
I went in the next Sunday, and it was just me and a visitor I had brought to Church in my SS class.. I figured those who had been joining in with the other class just didnt' know I had planned to start again, so I went on in again the next week... no one was there...
This went on for a few weeks until I finally asked if anyone was coming back to my class. I had to prepare lessons, etc...I was told by one member of the class that the same man who didn't want me singing had decided she shouldn't be in my class and had told her so.
Well, for three weeks, I just went in, moving closer and closer to the back row. (I had sat on the very front pew for years!) Then, two Sundays before Mother's Day, I went in and sat down, and who do you think came out of my SS classroom? The very man who said I shouldn't sing, the people he had spoken to in my absence and the rest of the adults in the Church... they had effectively moved me out.
I left, in tears, and the sound man, whom I had considered a very close friend, followed after me, laughing, literally out loud. My daughter came out of her SS class, saw me leave, heard him laughing and asked why, and was told "she finally cracked and left"... what a blow to my heart this was...
I spent the next few weeks searching, alone, for a Church. My husband felt that since he was on the Board of Directors, on the Pulpit Committee, he should see his committment through. I felt so betrayed, as if they were having a "let's all bash Anita" meeting every Sunday, and my husband was attending.
I begged him to pray and ask God to allow him to leave. He did, said he didn't have permission from God and stayed, until they found a pastor, three to four months later. In the meantime, we worshipped apart.
Finally, when the new pastor came, he called my husband and asked him a few questions which led my husband to believe that those who had literally chased me out of the Church had been talking about us. It seemed they wanted reassurance that I wouldn't be back, and that Gary would be leaving now, as well. Gary told the pastor he would be praying for the Church, and that if there ever came a time when the Lord was allowed to lead again, we may come back, but not in the interim. The new pastor simply told my husband that those very people were the ones who bought his lunch every Sunday, had remodelled the parsonage (we had done the work, too, but didn't say anything) and had made him feel welcome, so he "didn't want to cross them"... Gary told him he would pray for the Church... end of story.
Well, this is the Church that was so in tune with the Holy Spirit... the Church where miracles happened left and right to people who had been told they were dying , and not once in the last four months we were there, was there even an altar service. So sad!
What we learned, after hearing tale after tale from this person and that person, is that when a person who serves God is put into a position of authority, Satan can use them as easily as God, and it has to be a conscius effort on the part of that person to stay in tune with GOD'S voice...
What I have learned as my heart has been trampled, as I've had dreams, nightmares really, of running into these people and being attacked by them, is that I HAVE been restored...
I had to be taken to a place where I had to take a stand and walk away from my comfort zone (my home Church) and I had to learn to worship with strangers, as the man in the Old Testament who was told to "leave his Home and his kindred" and go into a land the he knew not...
In order to restore something, such as an antique piece of furniture or an antique car, you have to take off all the polish and the paint, and take the piece down to its barest state, exposed, vulnerable... and you have to remake it into what it is going to be.
In the 9 months since I left my home, I have attended services in 25 different Churches, Worship Centers and Gatherings... none of them feel like I felt prior to this experience, when our family was welcome and loved... we were family in these new places, but it felt like attending a reunion of your grandmother's family... related but unacquainted, welcomed but separate.
No place yet has felt like home, and I still miss my lifelong place of Worship, but I have been remodelled.. I have a new paint job, there has been some shoring up of my walk, some strengthening of my Spirit as a result of Prayer, Bible Study, conversations with Brothers and Sisters of like faith, and there has been a new and stronger foundation in my relationship with him.
I was accused of all kinds of things during this time, by people I trusted more than some of my family members. I felt so betrayed. I felt so wounded. I felt so angry.. but God used this time to soften my heart and force me to see them as He does...
He sees ALL OUR hearts and sees the good in us, not the ugly things we do to each other. He sees our offerings of worship, our love for Him... even when we have wronged others. He loves them, even though He has assured me that He saw what they did, and He wasn't pleased. But He has commanded me to love them as He does... unconditionally.
As I learned to do this, He has added coats of paint, shined me up, and RESTORED me. I look better (figuratively speaking) than I ever did in my original state. Like an antique car, which was lovely in it's newly purchased state, but takes on a new and precious life when restored by someone who takes loving care to make it into a new creature... doesn't that sound like what He does with us when we trust Him? And when we turn again and again to Him for Restoration?
SO, next time someone says "I have a word for you from the Lord, Anita"... I won't try and decide for Him what He meant. Sometimes it hurts to be Restored.
I was so happy. I had received a "Word" from a Sister in Christ,and later in the day, Confirmation from a Brother in Christ! God was putting me into a new Minsitry, and I was going to be Restored! I was so excited! I was so very happy, so anxious to start anew. I just knew I was going to be singing again, Ministering His Word to others, sharing His love with the world again! I had waited SO LONG!
Whoa, whoa... put the brakes on there....
When God gives us a Word, we are NEVER in control... it is usually the polar opposite of what we thought it was going to be... He never said that we would be given the desires of our heart in the way that WE imagined it. He simply said that HE would give them to us, if we follow Him, serve Him, worship Him with all our hearts, souls, minds and strength.
Fast forward to Feb, 2011.
My granddaughter was born, my daughter was sick during the delivery, my grandson was staying with us while his mom and stepdad got settled in with the new baby, and he was sick. I began feeling sick. I couldn't be sick... I had Sunday School to teach, Messages to Prepare, Songs to work on for Praise and Worship, and a Bible Study to lead, all at our Church, except the Bible Study, which was at home.
I developed double pneumonia, (with no insurance) and the fight was on... I had to miss six consecutive weeks of Church. The odd thing was, no one called to see if I was dead or alive. No worries, Gary was keeping the up to date. I felt so guilty, not being there to lead P&W. I hated that my SS class was having to join up with another class because we had such a small Church, (less than 30 people during the time we were searching for a pastor) and no one else would teach.
I hated that I wouldn't be able to keep my word and deliver the messages on those Sundays I had been scheduled to speak, but I'd make it up to them, as soon as the Lord healed me.
IT TOOK MONTHS!None of the antibiotics and medications worked. I had developed an immunity to the traditional treatments. I couldn't shake the pneumonia... if only I could get to Church.
I got to attend one service, the first for my Granddaughter. I got to show her off, love on her, ask the Body to pray for me and for Lelina, the baby, who just wasn't well.. no one knew what it was that made her sick, but she was a sick little baby. She wore her newborn clothes until mid summer, in fact...
it turned out that she had a blood infection and once that was cured, she was good to go! No one called...
Fast forward to Easter. I was back at Church, and it was requested that I sing. I didn't know if I could, but I was willing to try. The Person in charge said, "no, there are going to be no more specials", it just takes up too much time during the service. (Later, I was told by my husband that this same person had told him that he just didn't want me to sing anymore, but not until much later) But on Easter, that same man got up and sung, a lady from the congregation got up and sung an impromptu medley and then the husband/wife team who had worked with me on Praise and Worship sang two songs.
I was so hurt that it was only me who couldnt sing anymore, but I figured it was because they were upset that I had missed so much since Feb. 1st and it would pass.
I went in the next Sunday, and it was just me and a visitor I had brought to Church in my SS class.. I figured those who had been joining in with the other class just didnt' know I had planned to start again, so I went on in again the next week... no one was there...
This went on for a few weeks until I finally asked if anyone was coming back to my class. I had to prepare lessons, etc...I was told by one member of the class that the same man who didn't want me singing had decided she shouldn't be in my class and had told her so.
Well, for three weeks, I just went in, moving closer and closer to the back row. (I had sat on the very front pew for years!) Then, two Sundays before Mother's Day, I went in and sat down, and who do you think came out of my SS classroom? The very man who said I shouldn't sing, the people he had spoken to in my absence and the rest of the adults in the Church... they had effectively moved me out.
I left, in tears, and the sound man, whom I had considered a very close friend, followed after me, laughing, literally out loud. My daughter came out of her SS class, saw me leave, heard him laughing and asked why, and was told "she finally cracked and left"... what a blow to my heart this was...
I spent the next few weeks searching, alone, for a Church. My husband felt that since he was on the Board of Directors, on the Pulpit Committee, he should see his committment through. I felt so betrayed, as if they were having a "let's all bash Anita" meeting every Sunday, and my husband was attending.
I begged him to pray and ask God to allow him to leave. He did, said he didn't have permission from God and stayed, until they found a pastor, three to four months later. In the meantime, we worshipped apart.
Finally, when the new pastor came, he called my husband and asked him a few questions which led my husband to believe that those who had literally chased me out of the Church had been talking about us. It seemed they wanted reassurance that I wouldn't be back, and that Gary would be leaving now, as well. Gary told the pastor he would be praying for the Church, and that if there ever came a time when the Lord was allowed to lead again, we may come back, but not in the interim. The new pastor simply told my husband that those very people were the ones who bought his lunch every Sunday, had remodelled the parsonage (we had done the work, too, but didn't say anything) and had made him feel welcome, so he "didn't want to cross them"... Gary told him he would pray for the Church... end of story.
Well, this is the Church that was so in tune with the Holy Spirit... the Church where miracles happened left and right to people who had been told they were dying , and not once in the last four months we were there, was there even an altar service. So sad!
What we learned, after hearing tale after tale from this person and that person, is that when a person who serves God is put into a position of authority, Satan can use them as easily as God, and it has to be a conscius effort on the part of that person to stay in tune with GOD'S voice...
What I have learned as my heart has been trampled, as I've had dreams, nightmares really, of running into these people and being attacked by them, is that I HAVE been restored...
I had to be taken to a place where I had to take a stand and walk away from my comfort zone (my home Church) and I had to learn to worship with strangers, as the man in the Old Testament who was told to "leave his Home and his kindred" and go into a land the he knew not...
In order to restore something, such as an antique piece of furniture or an antique car, you have to take off all the polish and the paint, and take the piece down to its barest state, exposed, vulnerable... and you have to remake it into what it is going to be.
In the 9 months since I left my home, I have attended services in 25 different Churches, Worship Centers and Gatherings... none of them feel like I felt prior to this experience, when our family was welcome and loved... we were family in these new places, but it felt like attending a reunion of your grandmother's family... related but unacquainted, welcomed but separate.
No place yet has felt like home, and I still miss my lifelong place of Worship, but I have been remodelled.. I have a new paint job, there has been some shoring up of my walk, some strengthening of my Spirit as a result of Prayer, Bible Study, conversations with Brothers and Sisters of like faith, and there has been a new and stronger foundation in my relationship with him.
I was accused of all kinds of things during this time, by people I trusted more than some of my family members. I felt so betrayed. I felt so wounded. I felt so angry.. but God used this time to soften my heart and force me to see them as He does...
He sees ALL OUR hearts and sees the good in us, not the ugly things we do to each other. He sees our offerings of worship, our love for Him... even when we have wronged others. He loves them, even though He has assured me that He saw what they did, and He wasn't pleased. But He has commanded me to love them as He does... unconditionally.
As I learned to do this, He has added coats of paint, shined me up, and RESTORED me. I look better (figuratively speaking) than I ever did in my original state. Like an antique car, which was lovely in it's newly purchased state, but takes on a new and precious life when restored by someone who takes loving care to make it into a new creature... doesn't that sound like what He does with us when we trust Him? And when we turn again and again to Him for Restoration?
SO, next time someone says "I have a word for you from the Lord, Anita"... I won't try and decide for Him what He meant. Sometimes it hurts to be Restored.
Monday, December 12, 2011
The Forest and the Trees
I was praying a few days ago as I washed the dishes. I got to a point where I stopped, but knew my prayer wasn't finished. I waited... didn't know what I was waiting for, but I knew something good was coming from God.
I continued to wash dishes, waiting, and all of a sudden, He spoke to my spirit. I had been praying over some requests shared with me by friends, family, Facebook acquaintances. Some of these were seemingly small requests, some were requests that would require a miracle. I was absolutely thrilled that I could feel His presence in my little kitchen, that I knew He was about to speak. Would He give me a Word for my friend whose cancer battle has gone on so long she is about as tired as can be? Would He give me Wisdom to share with my daughter for my grandson's recent personality changes (which have us all worried)? I was so in hopes that He would speak to me about one of my many petitions.
He spoke to me, quietly, and told me "so many of my children are worrying and are upset over whether they are in My will concerning what they consider sinful behavior, that they aren't winning souls for my Kingdom... I don't know why they are making such a big deal over these things."
I struggled for a few minutes before I said, "Lord, are you sure that message was for me? I really have some important requests going on here." I named this person and that, reminded Him of their needs, their desperation, their immediate concerns. I just felt like He may not have heard me.
I was so disappointed that I almost MISSED it... GOD, the Creator, GOD the Almighty, GOD, the Alpha and Omega... HAD SPOKEN DIRECTLY TO ME! And, in hindsight, wasn't I the haughty one? I had responded as if he were an elderly person, prone to forgetfulness and subject to blurting out something totally unrelated to the conversation I THOUGHT we were having...(it's okay to laugh here- I have laughed a lot at myself. Just don't laugh because HE spoke to me-laugh at my human stupidity).
I got myself together, realized He had a message for someone, and that I should either share it with you on here, or share it with those I know and share my spiritual journey. Someone needed to hear this message..
So, I began searching the Word for His "rules". No, not the Ten Commandments... even those who have never darkened a Church door know those... I was searching for those "morsels" of direction that you get as you grow, sometimes insinuated, sometimes spoken outright, such as "go forth and sin no more"...
I found none of what I was looking for specifically, so I literally BEGGED Him to give me what He had for me. "I'll listen, I promise! I won't presume to be so smart-I'll tell it like YOU want it told, Lord".
He directed me to think of the things we who call ourselves Christians put into the heads of the world.
For example, we often judge those we know if we see them with a cocktail, or hear them talk about an drink they enjoy that we may see as sinful.
I am NOT getting into religious and denominational beliefs. Let GOD lead you as to whether it is a sin to enjoy a cocktail or a beer. I am NOT GOD- my walk is NOT yours. What God has told me to avoid or partake of may not be something He has given attention to in your relationship with Him.
What I felt He was telling me was that we were so caught up in the "rules" of our walk with Him, that we were literally stumbling over lost souls, tripping over hurting people, barging into the lives of others with our perception of what a Christian should or should not do, that we were allowing HIS creation to remain lost or lose sight of a relationship with HIM. In other words, WE ARE TOO BUSY LEGISLATING MORALITY TO WITNESS, SHARE HIS LOVE, MINISTER TO THE VERY REAL NEEDS OF A LOST AND DYING WORLD!!!!
Now, don't get me wrong, I am not saying you shouldn't teach your children not to use drugs. I am not promoting alcoholism. I am not saying that you should drop your personal convictions and go out and buy a ticket for the lottery if that is something you feel strongly you shouldn't do.
I am saying we get too caught up in what a Christian looks like on paper to be out and about "going about the Father's business".
I once had a person I considered a mentor ask me about a pastor she knew. She asked if I knew him, had I ever sung in his Church, heard him preach, etc. Boy, did I let loose! I told her I didn't have a lot of confidence in this pastor I had met a few times, because I saw him going into a "dive"... a beer joint, known for having its share of brawls, illegal activities, etc.
My friend asked me if I followed this pastor in, to see what his purpose in being there might be. "No", I said. "I don't need to know why he was there! My Bible says to "avoid the appearance of evil" (it does) and I will know a tree by the fruit it bears ( we do). He should know better, and besides, if he was going into a beer joint, what pure motive could he possibly have? He should know better, everyone sees him on TV, reads about his stands on politically and religiously intertwined issues... what good does that do, if word gets out that he is hanging out in a bar?"
I mean, here was someone I looked up to, proclaiming about this "Godly" pastor, and I, a relatively new Christian new more about this hypocrite than she did! I was on my soapbox, on a roll. I was pointing out how the most revered people can mislead others...
Until my friend shared with me that she knew a Church member (in said Pastor's Church), an elderly woman. This woman had been praying for years for her wayward son. She had gone to revival after revival, Christmas play upon Christmas play, service after service... always reminding the congregation to pray for her son, that God would arrest his heart, convict him of his sins, and save his soul. She clung for YEARS to the Promise that says all of our family will be saved if we are faithful to Him, keep His Word, live a Godly life. She wept at the altar time and time again over this child. He was a "druggie", and was in and out of jail, a nuisance to the local authorities, but the most important soul in the world to this mighty woman of God. It was her cross to bear that her son refused to listen to her pleas to attend Church with her, to pray with her, to give God a chance to change his life.In fact, it had gotten to the point where eyes would roll when Prayer requests were taken, because everyone knew she would "start again about that boy of hers" .
"Anita," my friend said... "that bar was the favorite hang out for this beloved son. His mom had a heart attack last Tuesday (or whatever day it was). Her pastor was called by the woman's children. He asked what he might do for them, and by that time, this saint had gone to Heaven.
None of her children would be caught dead in that bar, having given up on even associating with their brother.
Knowing how much his momma loved him, the pastor said he'd go get the son. He was there to get her boy, knowing that this mother wouldn't want a stranger to deliver the news. He had seen the son a few times while visiting the mom over the years. It would be his job to deliver this news."
She stopped talking, I just sat there...
He was being a pastor... even after the member of his Church had passed. He was being compassionate, not caring what judgemental folks like me would think if they saw him going into a "dive" when he was supposed to be setting an example...
I was thoroughly chastised, let me tell you!My friend, without telling me what an idiot I had been, had taught me a lesson in judging others.
I think I must have needed this lesson a second time and my friend has since gone on to meet Him face to face, so God Himself told me again... "my people are missing the mark"..
God is concerned with ALL sin. But it is HE who determines when we are mature enough in Him for Him to convict us, to say " Hey, that thing you do (insert sin of your choice here) is displeasing to me-Stop It" . It is He who says what IS and what ISN'T sin... NOT YOU and I...we have let Religion get in the way of Christianity.
He is concerned that HIS children are watching who is drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette, buying a Lottery ticket, and failing to WIN SOULS!
WE ARE COMMISSIONED TO SPREAD HIS LOVE, THE PLAN OF SALVATION, BRING LIGHT INTO A DARK AND LONELY WORLD!
He is capable of letting each of us know, AFTER we are born again, what we should and should not be doing. We don't listen before we are born again. Some of us, myself included, fail to listen sometimes AFTER we are born again.
Again, I am not trying to say we shouldn't teach moral, Christ-like behavior. I just know that HE told me we should be MORE concerned with those who are headed to a Devil's Hell.
We're too busy letting everyone know that Brother ____ plays the Lottery because we saw him with a ticket, when there was a person dangling off the side of a burning building needing to be rescued, someone you could have rescued, had you not been paying attention to Brother ______'s actions...
You tell me... which of those situations would God rather you were tending?
I continued to wash dishes, waiting, and all of a sudden, He spoke to my spirit. I had been praying over some requests shared with me by friends, family, Facebook acquaintances. Some of these were seemingly small requests, some were requests that would require a miracle. I was absolutely thrilled that I could feel His presence in my little kitchen, that I knew He was about to speak. Would He give me a Word for my friend whose cancer battle has gone on so long she is about as tired as can be? Would He give me Wisdom to share with my daughter for my grandson's recent personality changes (which have us all worried)? I was so in hopes that He would speak to me about one of my many petitions.
He spoke to me, quietly, and told me "so many of my children are worrying and are upset over whether they are in My will concerning what they consider sinful behavior, that they aren't winning souls for my Kingdom... I don't know why they are making such a big deal over these things."
I struggled for a few minutes before I said, "Lord, are you sure that message was for me? I really have some important requests going on here." I named this person and that, reminded Him of their needs, their desperation, their immediate concerns. I just felt like He may not have heard me.
I was so disappointed that I almost MISSED it... GOD, the Creator, GOD the Almighty, GOD, the Alpha and Omega... HAD SPOKEN DIRECTLY TO ME! And, in hindsight, wasn't I the haughty one? I had responded as if he were an elderly person, prone to forgetfulness and subject to blurting out something totally unrelated to the conversation I THOUGHT we were having...(it's okay to laugh here- I have laughed a lot at myself. Just don't laugh because HE spoke to me-laugh at my human stupidity).
I got myself together, realized He had a message for someone, and that I should either share it with you on here, or share it with those I know and share my spiritual journey. Someone needed to hear this message..
So, I began searching the Word for His "rules". No, not the Ten Commandments... even those who have never darkened a Church door know those... I was searching for those "morsels" of direction that you get as you grow, sometimes insinuated, sometimes spoken outright, such as "go forth and sin no more"...
I found none of what I was looking for specifically, so I literally BEGGED Him to give me what He had for me. "I'll listen, I promise! I won't presume to be so smart-I'll tell it like YOU want it told, Lord".
He directed me to think of the things we who call ourselves Christians put into the heads of the world.
For example, we often judge those we know if we see them with a cocktail, or hear them talk about an drink they enjoy that we may see as sinful.
I am NOT getting into religious and denominational beliefs. Let GOD lead you as to whether it is a sin to enjoy a cocktail or a beer. I am NOT GOD- my walk is NOT yours. What God has told me to avoid or partake of may not be something He has given attention to in your relationship with Him.
What I felt He was telling me was that we were so caught up in the "rules" of our walk with Him, that we were literally stumbling over lost souls, tripping over hurting people, barging into the lives of others with our perception of what a Christian should or should not do, that we were allowing HIS creation to remain lost or lose sight of a relationship with HIM. In other words, WE ARE TOO BUSY LEGISLATING MORALITY TO WITNESS, SHARE HIS LOVE, MINISTER TO THE VERY REAL NEEDS OF A LOST AND DYING WORLD!!!!
Now, don't get me wrong, I am not saying you shouldn't teach your children not to use drugs. I am not promoting alcoholism. I am not saying that you should drop your personal convictions and go out and buy a ticket for the lottery if that is something you feel strongly you shouldn't do.
I am saying we get too caught up in what a Christian looks like on paper to be out and about "going about the Father's business".
I once had a person I considered a mentor ask me about a pastor she knew. She asked if I knew him, had I ever sung in his Church, heard him preach, etc. Boy, did I let loose! I told her I didn't have a lot of confidence in this pastor I had met a few times, because I saw him going into a "dive"... a beer joint, known for having its share of brawls, illegal activities, etc.
My friend asked me if I followed this pastor in, to see what his purpose in being there might be. "No", I said. "I don't need to know why he was there! My Bible says to "avoid the appearance of evil" (it does) and I will know a tree by the fruit it bears ( we do). He should know better, and besides, if he was going into a beer joint, what pure motive could he possibly have? He should know better, everyone sees him on TV, reads about his stands on politically and religiously intertwined issues... what good does that do, if word gets out that he is hanging out in a bar?"
I mean, here was someone I looked up to, proclaiming about this "Godly" pastor, and I, a relatively new Christian new more about this hypocrite than she did! I was on my soapbox, on a roll. I was pointing out how the most revered people can mislead others...
Until my friend shared with me that she knew a Church member (in said Pastor's Church), an elderly woman. This woman had been praying for years for her wayward son. She had gone to revival after revival, Christmas play upon Christmas play, service after service... always reminding the congregation to pray for her son, that God would arrest his heart, convict him of his sins, and save his soul. She clung for YEARS to the Promise that says all of our family will be saved if we are faithful to Him, keep His Word, live a Godly life. She wept at the altar time and time again over this child. He was a "druggie", and was in and out of jail, a nuisance to the local authorities, but the most important soul in the world to this mighty woman of God. It was her cross to bear that her son refused to listen to her pleas to attend Church with her, to pray with her, to give God a chance to change his life.In fact, it had gotten to the point where eyes would roll when Prayer requests were taken, because everyone knew she would "start again about that boy of hers" .
"Anita," my friend said... "that bar was the favorite hang out for this beloved son. His mom had a heart attack last Tuesday (or whatever day it was). Her pastor was called by the woman's children. He asked what he might do for them, and by that time, this saint had gone to Heaven.
None of her children would be caught dead in that bar, having given up on even associating with their brother.
Knowing how much his momma loved him, the pastor said he'd go get the son. He was there to get her boy, knowing that this mother wouldn't want a stranger to deliver the news. He had seen the son a few times while visiting the mom over the years. It would be his job to deliver this news."
She stopped talking, I just sat there...
He was being a pastor... even after the member of his Church had passed. He was being compassionate, not caring what judgemental folks like me would think if they saw him going into a "dive" when he was supposed to be setting an example...
I was thoroughly chastised, let me tell you!My friend, without telling me what an idiot I had been, had taught me a lesson in judging others.
I think I must have needed this lesson a second time and my friend has since gone on to meet Him face to face, so God Himself told me again... "my people are missing the mark"..
God is concerned with ALL sin. But it is HE who determines when we are mature enough in Him for Him to convict us, to say " Hey, that thing you do (insert sin of your choice here) is displeasing to me-Stop It" . It is He who says what IS and what ISN'T sin... NOT YOU and I...we have let Religion get in the way of Christianity.
He is concerned that HIS children are watching who is drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette, buying a Lottery ticket, and failing to WIN SOULS!
WE ARE COMMISSIONED TO SPREAD HIS LOVE, THE PLAN OF SALVATION, BRING LIGHT INTO A DARK AND LONELY WORLD!
He is capable of letting each of us know, AFTER we are born again, what we should and should not be doing. We don't listen before we are born again. Some of us, myself included, fail to listen sometimes AFTER we are born again.
Again, I am not trying to say we shouldn't teach moral, Christ-like behavior. I just know that HE told me we should be MORE concerned with those who are headed to a Devil's Hell.
We're too busy letting everyone know that Brother ____ plays the Lottery because we saw him with a ticket, when there was a person dangling off the side of a burning building needing to be rescued, someone you could have rescued, had you not been paying attention to Brother ______'s actions...
You tell me... which of those situations would God rather you were tending?
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Renewing Relationships
After having been married 29 years, raising two daughters, facing the loss of both our fathers, my husband's mother, and facing my husband's retirement and subsequent cancer,Gary and I FINALLY took our long-awaited honeymoon a couple of weeks ago.
We went to Savannah, Charleston and spent the last few days at Myrtle Beach. We had such a good time, and spent so much time exploring that we forgot to make it this big, romantic adventure, the Honeymoon we had talked of often.
We had reached a point in our marriage where we loved each other, but had lost sight of the initial relationship that resulted in all of the above-mentioned time spent together.
Gary and I have had a very tumultuous relationship, one fraught with happiness, pain and heartache, laughter, tears and hope. We had each pursued our individual dreams, without ever really having a common goal, other than being together. In other words, we were two people living separate lives, albeit under the same roof.
On those occasions when our goals forced us to spend more than a few hours together, planning the same event or the same goal, we were fire and ice, dynamite... we couldn't agree on anything.
But something happened on this vacation. I can't explain it.
You see, I planned a day trip on a boat, exploring the barrier islands of S. Carolina as my gift to Gary on our trip. He was supposed to plan a day for me, and the other 6 days we had were going to be planned as we went. Seven of those days were fantastic. The 8th never happened.
Gary failed to plan his day for me. He spent the entire trip home apologizing for what he felt was a missed opportunity.
I, on the other hand, didn't see things quite the same way- for the 1st time ever, I didn't seize the opportunity to let him know how he'd failed, once again, to plan for me, to do something for me..God had already shown me that He had provided the money for the entire trip by Gary's being willing to work overtime to pay for it, to scrimp and save on the body work on his truck after a hail storm, saving some of his insurance pay-out, to come up with the funds. To me, that was planning, and it showed me he HAD thought of me, and made me feel like the one who did the least.
To this day, Gary tells me every single day how much he loved our day on the boat. I did, too. I tell him how much I loved the entire trip.
I see this trip as a mirror of our time with God.
We plan and plan our walk with Him, only to focus on that one day, that one moment, when we slipped and fell. We focus on that anger we felt, or that misspoken word, rather than seeing how many times we didn't fail Him.
He, on the other hand, sees the journey, not the detours. He sees the time that we could have reacted in anger or hatred when some offense occurred, but turned to Him in prayer. He sees the many times you could have ignored a phone call from a lonely person, but chose to answer and spend a few minutes with them, no matter how insignificant the topic.
We see our shortcomings, He sees our potential. He just waits for us to take a step at a time to reach it.
Gary and I have found ourselves rushing home each day since our trip, just so we can squeeze in a few minutes together. It wasn't what we were seeking when we went on vacation. We thought we could go back almost 30 years, and find that new, white-hot, all consuming love that a couple has when they first start out.While important, that attraction is mostly physical, and doesn't last. What we got was the real thing... we look forward to a few minutes sharing the events of our day, so that the other isn't left out of that part of our lives. We got the respect for the other person's feelings, the appreciation for the little things each does for the other.
For example, the fact that I seldom, if ever have to pump gas may not sound very romantic to you. But my husband is still not back to his strong, healthy self. He works 12-14 hours five days per week to support us. Yet, he takes time every day to meet me or take my car to get gas, so that I don't have to stand in heat or cold, rain, etc. to get gas.I dont' ask him to do this... he insists it is important to him to do it. To me, that is love, concern, caring.
If I'm running late, I don't have to add to the problem to stop and get fuel, if I it's raining, I'm warm and dry. It makes me call him and tell him thank you... that makes him feel valued.
He makes tea every day, brings me the first glass out of it every time,and tells me he loves me and thinks I am beautiful, even though I am overweight, even when I'm sweaty from working in the yard, dirty from playing with our grandchildren, or just having a bad hair day.
He tells me how much he appreciates that he never has to come home to a sandwich, a TV dinner, etc. He is a man who not only loves food, but had to be fed via tube for a long time- a time during which he was told he would die, and the liquid formula I fed him through that tube would eventually be his last meal-(yes, he could've fed himself. I just did it. so he didn't feel so alone)
That is why I cook like a maniac, and as often as I can. I plan and plan for his dinners on the weeks I go to the store. I get his input, make all his favorites, and try something new at least once a month, to keep it interesting. He never fails to call me from work to thank me for last night's dinner. I feel appreciated.
We both have decided these are the things that make our marriage one that will last.That first love, the one where you have to touch, kiss, steal away those private moments- those are the times that only two can share. But these are the memories we keep- the ones where a tired, overworked man takes the time to tell his wife how much he appreciates her loving him over the years, not with words, but by making tea, pumping her gas, listening to her day, even though he doesn't know the first thing about the people she mentions.
It's the memory of a Thanksgiving Dinner cooked in Sept, because the treatments he was going to be taking would burn his throat to the point that he couldn't swallow water by November, and he just happened to mention that he hated to miss Thanksgiving.
Those are the memories we will have when one of us leaves the other, if we dont' go in the Rapture first.
Our relationship with God is just like that. We start out serving Him, expecting every day to be fireworks and light. To a point, it is. I mean, He is the Creator of the Universe.
But, as we try to be His hands and feet, everyday life gets in the way. We begin to lose that "first love" , or maybe we just move it to the side. We fail to realize that, like I appreciate the fuel, and Gary appreciates his food, God appreciates our faithfulness to read His Word, Pray, Seek His Will for our lives, and just generally try not to be who we used to be. When we avoid that situation that could threaten our Walk with Him, He Rejoices... I like to think He grabs an angel and says, "See that one? They chose well in that situation... that one's Mine!"... or something like that, as a proud parent would do.
Those are the moments we get to take with us when we meet Him. As long as we seek His will, He understands that we may not always be filled with our first joy, that feeling we had when we first met Him as our Savior. He appreciates the deep, abiding love we have for Him that comes from time spent trying to do His will.
The idea I'd like for you to take away from this post is that you can take your own vacation, like Gary and I did. Just take a few minutes each day to renew your relationship with Him. You'll be surprised how much renewal can happen in a very short time.
We spend so much time worrying about how we talk to Him, how reverent we are- and we should be... but He is more concerned with whether we spend time with Him at all. We worry over the how... He sees the attempt to do well.
Compare your time with Him to a visit with a grandparent... they don't care if you are in your Sunday best, or your work out clothes. Neither does He... both are simply happy that you chose to visit with them at all...
Don't forget to spend a moment resting in His arms, His word, His presence, each day! You will never have a boring relationship with Him if you try to please Him in just a small way, everyday.
We went to Savannah, Charleston and spent the last few days at Myrtle Beach. We had such a good time, and spent so much time exploring that we forgot to make it this big, romantic adventure, the Honeymoon we had talked of often.
We had reached a point in our marriage where we loved each other, but had lost sight of the initial relationship that resulted in all of the above-mentioned time spent together.
Gary and I have had a very tumultuous relationship, one fraught with happiness, pain and heartache, laughter, tears and hope. We had each pursued our individual dreams, without ever really having a common goal, other than being together. In other words, we were two people living separate lives, albeit under the same roof.
On those occasions when our goals forced us to spend more than a few hours together, planning the same event or the same goal, we were fire and ice, dynamite... we couldn't agree on anything.
But something happened on this vacation. I can't explain it.
You see, I planned a day trip on a boat, exploring the barrier islands of S. Carolina as my gift to Gary on our trip. He was supposed to plan a day for me, and the other 6 days we had were going to be planned as we went. Seven of those days were fantastic. The 8th never happened.
Gary failed to plan his day for me. He spent the entire trip home apologizing for what he felt was a missed opportunity.
I, on the other hand, didn't see things quite the same way- for the 1st time ever, I didn't seize the opportunity to let him know how he'd failed, once again, to plan for me, to do something for me..God had already shown me that He had provided the money for the entire trip by Gary's being willing to work overtime to pay for it, to scrimp and save on the body work on his truck after a hail storm, saving some of his insurance pay-out, to come up with the funds. To me, that was planning, and it showed me he HAD thought of me, and made me feel like the one who did the least.
To this day, Gary tells me every single day how much he loved our day on the boat. I did, too. I tell him how much I loved the entire trip.
I see this trip as a mirror of our time with God.
We plan and plan our walk with Him, only to focus on that one day, that one moment, when we slipped and fell. We focus on that anger we felt, or that misspoken word, rather than seeing how many times we didn't fail Him.
He, on the other hand, sees the journey, not the detours. He sees the time that we could have reacted in anger or hatred when some offense occurred, but turned to Him in prayer. He sees the many times you could have ignored a phone call from a lonely person, but chose to answer and spend a few minutes with them, no matter how insignificant the topic.
We see our shortcomings, He sees our potential. He just waits for us to take a step at a time to reach it.
Gary and I have found ourselves rushing home each day since our trip, just so we can squeeze in a few minutes together. It wasn't what we were seeking when we went on vacation. We thought we could go back almost 30 years, and find that new, white-hot, all consuming love that a couple has when they first start out.While important, that attraction is mostly physical, and doesn't last. What we got was the real thing... we look forward to a few minutes sharing the events of our day, so that the other isn't left out of that part of our lives. We got the respect for the other person's feelings, the appreciation for the little things each does for the other.
For example, the fact that I seldom, if ever have to pump gas may not sound very romantic to you. But my husband is still not back to his strong, healthy self. He works 12-14 hours five days per week to support us. Yet, he takes time every day to meet me or take my car to get gas, so that I don't have to stand in heat or cold, rain, etc. to get gas.I dont' ask him to do this... he insists it is important to him to do it. To me, that is love, concern, caring.
If I'm running late, I don't have to add to the problem to stop and get fuel, if I it's raining, I'm warm and dry. It makes me call him and tell him thank you... that makes him feel valued.
He makes tea every day, brings me the first glass out of it every time,and tells me he loves me and thinks I am beautiful, even though I am overweight, even when I'm sweaty from working in the yard, dirty from playing with our grandchildren, or just having a bad hair day.
He tells me how much he appreciates that he never has to come home to a sandwich, a TV dinner, etc. He is a man who not only loves food, but had to be fed via tube for a long time- a time during which he was told he would die, and the liquid formula I fed him through that tube would eventually be his last meal-(yes, he could've fed himself. I just did it. so he didn't feel so alone)
That is why I cook like a maniac, and as often as I can. I plan and plan for his dinners on the weeks I go to the store. I get his input, make all his favorites, and try something new at least once a month, to keep it interesting. He never fails to call me from work to thank me for last night's dinner. I feel appreciated.
We both have decided these are the things that make our marriage one that will last.That first love, the one where you have to touch, kiss, steal away those private moments- those are the times that only two can share. But these are the memories we keep- the ones where a tired, overworked man takes the time to tell his wife how much he appreciates her loving him over the years, not with words, but by making tea, pumping her gas, listening to her day, even though he doesn't know the first thing about the people she mentions.
It's the memory of a Thanksgiving Dinner cooked in Sept, because the treatments he was going to be taking would burn his throat to the point that he couldn't swallow water by November, and he just happened to mention that he hated to miss Thanksgiving.
Those are the memories we will have when one of us leaves the other, if we dont' go in the Rapture first.
Our relationship with God is just like that. We start out serving Him, expecting every day to be fireworks and light. To a point, it is. I mean, He is the Creator of the Universe.
But, as we try to be His hands and feet, everyday life gets in the way. We begin to lose that "first love" , or maybe we just move it to the side. We fail to realize that, like I appreciate the fuel, and Gary appreciates his food, God appreciates our faithfulness to read His Word, Pray, Seek His Will for our lives, and just generally try not to be who we used to be. When we avoid that situation that could threaten our Walk with Him, He Rejoices... I like to think He grabs an angel and says, "See that one? They chose well in that situation... that one's Mine!"... or something like that, as a proud parent would do.
Those are the moments we get to take with us when we meet Him. As long as we seek His will, He understands that we may not always be filled with our first joy, that feeling we had when we first met Him as our Savior. He appreciates the deep, abiding love we have for Him that comes from time spent trying to do His will.
The idea I'd like for you to take away from this post is that you can take your own vacation, like Gary and I did. Just take a few minutes each day to renew your relationship with Him. You'll be surprised how much renewal can happen in a very short time.
We spend so much time worrying about how we talk to Him, how reverent we are- and we should be... but He is more concerned with whether we spend time with Him at all. We worry over the how... He sees the attempt to do well.
Compare your time with Him to a visit with a grandparent... they don't care if you are in your Sunday best, or your work out clothes. Neither does He... both are simply happy that you chose to visit with them at all...
Don't forget to spend a moment resting in His arms, His word, His presence, each day! You will never have a boring relationship with Him if you try to please Him in just a small way, everyday.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Worst Day In History
As a child, I could never figure out why people my Grandparents' age cried when recounting Pearl Harbor, WW II or Korea.( I knew why I cried when I realized what Vietnam was. It was because my uncle served there, and got no hero's welcome when he returned.To this day, I don't think he has gotten a thank you!)
On Sept 11, 2001, I totally understood why it made people cry so many years later when my elders talked about the moment that shifted the direction of that generation.
In a few days, we will be honoring those who passed away in the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a Field in Pennsylvania, and I cry every time I see the familiar billows of smoke.A Journalist once referred to that day as the Worst Day in History.
I don't even have to have sound on my TV when that image is shown, to instantly be in my mind, exactly where I was when it happened! Do you?
As I have grown in the Lord, there is another day, a day like Pearl Harbor, that I never witnessed first hand, but it affects me, just the same. It is the day Jesus gave his life for me! I think, to a Child of God, THAT should be and is, the Worst Day in History!
I can imagine if I were to travel back in time, I would meet someone who was on the road to Calvary that day... can you imagine how they would tell us what they witnessed? I have to think it was a moment, like Pearl Harbor, or the day John Kennedy was assassinated, or like 9/11 to those people... it was a life altering moment.
Can you imagine how they would describe His anguish, his torture, the cruelty inflicted upon Him, as He laid down His life, just for us?
If you were there, based on what you know today, can you imagine just getting up in the morning on the day after and life just going on, as usual? Come on, the sky grew dark, the earth quaked, the veil in the Temple was torn... JESUS DIED! He was supposed to be their King and he just.... died up there on that Cross, and now everything His followers knew was in question.
Do you remember, if you were old enough to be a parent, the questions our kids had for us the day after 9/11? Mine asked me if their school may be blown up, or if their bus was safe, and all around America, the news of the day paled in comparison... forget America, the WORLD talked about what had happened... even for those who didn't believe Jesus was the Messiah, don't you think the WORLD of that day talked about all the events that happened? Don't you think they were forever changed?
Can you imagine passing Mary, the Disciples, those who had been healed by Him, in those days? I imagine no one would look them in the eye, whether from guilt, anguish, or pure human discomfort, the kind that comes from knowing a great injustice has been done to someone, but you did nothing, could do nothing, to stop it.
Can you imagine having been one of the people who KNEW who He was, because you were the Blind man whose sight was restored, or the Leper who was healed... how about being Lazarus? If ever there was a man who knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that Jesus was the Messiah, it was him. Now, imagine being alive on Crucifixion Day... and being powerless to help the one who brought you back from the dead....
No, Pearl Harbor, that November Day in Texas, 9/11/01.... none of those compare to THAT DAY... yet we forget that without it, we would have NO HOPE.
The days we mark as tragedies in our lives are minuscule moments in the great scheme of things, but are NOTHING when we think of That Day!
As we mourn those lost on September 11, and as we rightfully shed tears at those memories, can we, the Sons and Daughters of the King of Kings, remember the Worst Day in History- The day the King of Kings laid down His life, so that you and I might someday accept the gift of Love He has for us?
If you have asked Jesus to be your Savior, this should be a daily act of Praise and Thanksgiving.
I love the T Shirts we wore in the 80's and 90's that said "I asked the Lord, "How much do you love me?" He spread His arms, said "THIS MUCH" and DIED!
God Bless those who lost loved ones on Sept. 11, at Pearl Harbor, etc. I am in no way diminishing that loss! But let's not forget the true Worst Day in History !
On Sept 11, 2001, I totally understood why it made people cry so many years later when my elders talked about the moment that shifted the direction of that generation.
In a few days, we will be honoring those who passed away in the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a Field in Pennsylvania, and I cry every time I see the familiar billows of smoke.A Journalist once referred to that day as the Worst Day in History.
I don't even have to have sound on my TV when that image is shown, to instantly be in my mind, exactly where I was when it happened! Do you?
As I have grown in the Lord, there is another day, a day like Pearl Harbor, that I never witnessed first hand, but it affects me, just the same. It is the day Jesus gave his life for me! I think, to a Child of God, THAT should be and is, the Worst Day in History!
I can imagine if I were to travel back in time, I would meet someone who was on the road to Calvary that day... can you imagine how they would tell us what they witnessed? I have to think it was a moment, like Pearl Harbor, or the day John Kennedy was assassinated, or like 9/11 to those people... it was a life altering moment.
Can you imagine how they would describe His anguish, his torture, the cruelty inflicted upon Him, as He laid down His life, just for us?
If you were there, based on what you know today, can you imagine just getting up in the morning on the day after and life just going on, as usual? Come on, the sky grew dark, the earth quaked, the veil in the Temple was torn... JESUS DIED! He was supposed to be their King and he just.... died up there on that Cross, and now everything His followers knew was in question.
Do you remember, if you were old enough to be a parent, the questions our kids had for us the day after 9/11? Mine asked me if their school may be blown up, or if their bus was safe, and all around America, the news of the day paled in comparison... forget America, the WORLD talked about what had happened... even for those who didn't believe Jesus was the Messiah, don't you think the WORLD of that day talked about all the events that happened? Don't you think they were forever changed?
Can you imagine passing Mary, the Disciples, those who had been healed by Him, in those days? I imagine no one would look them in the eye, whether from guilt, anguish, or pure human discomfort, the kind that comes from knowing a great injustice has been done to someone, but you did nothing, could do nothing, to stop it.
Can you imagine having been one of the people who KNEW who He was, because you were the Blind man whose sight was restored, or the Leper who was healed... how about being Lazarus? If ever there was a man who knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that Jesus was the Messiah, it was him. Now, imagine being alive on Crucifixion Day... and being powerless to help the one who brought you back from the dead....
No, Pearl Harbor, that November Day in Texas, 9/11/01.... none of those compare to THAT DAY... yet we forget that without it, we would have NO HOPE.
The days we mark as tragedies in our lives are minuscule moments in the great scheme of things, but are NOTHING when we think of That Day!
As we mourn those lost on September 11, and as we rightfully shed tears at those memories, can we, the Sons and Daughters of the King of Kings, remember the Worst Day in History- The day the King of Kings laid down His life, so that you and I might someday accept the gift of Love He has for us?
If you have asked Jesus to be your Savior, this should be a daily act of Praise and Thanksgiving.
I love the T Shirts we wore in the 80's and 90's that said "I asked the Lord, "How much do you love me?" He spread His arms, said "THIS MUCH" and DIED!
God Bless those who lost loved ones on Sept. 11, at Pearl Harbor, etc. I am in no way diminishing that loss! But let's not forget the true Worst Day in History !
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