Forgiveness Is Not For The Deserving

I did not really receive much feedback on where to bury Daddy. A few of you responded quickly, some did not respond at all and I am sure it is because you are torn and unable to decide, but
more of you said it “did not matter.” It doesn’t matter? Wow that really puts the heavy responsibility of choosing back on me now doesn’t it. Well that is okay, I am starting to get used to that, but what does that even mean anyway?
It troubles me to think if something we choose to do does not matter, then why on earth should we do anything at all? Shouldn’t every decision we make in life be made because it does matter? When we say that something doesn’t matter are we not living in denial and are detaching ourselves to protect our intimate feelings and emotions? That’s all well and good I guess… but over the years in my life I have found that if people are careful to protect their feelings by the act of detachment, then at sometime in someway or another they have been hurt by someone, and they are still hurting. It is hard to comprehend that the only road to healing and being free from these pangs is by forgiveness. So how does one truly forgive?
Believing that our offender does not deserve forgiveness we often seek for the opportunity to forgive them by looking to them to make it right so that we may give them “deserving” forgiveness, but I will tell you that your offender will NEVER be able to make it right. He or She can not undo what they did to you and in all their efforts to try it only makes room for bitterness to take root. This is especially true if WE are the offenders, and none of us are immune to this, we just happen to believe that our own offensives are not as bad as others. Forgiveness is not for people who deserve it. If they deserve anything, it is punishment. Forgiveness means that you extend grace, “Undeserved Favor,” just like God extends undeserved favor to you. We are forgiven because of His love for us. We never deserve it, He just graciously gives it.

While forgiving our offenders and (ourselves) is a vital part to healing it is only the beginning. We must see ourselves as God sees us. All we tend to see is the ugliness of our past sins and the sins of our offenders. Sadly, even here many people work and work to try and feel justified for receiving His forgiveness so freely. So what is it that God sees when He looks upon us that make Him give us forgiveness so freely?

About three years before Daddy died he was admitted to the hospital to have open heart surgery, (quadruple bypass). We were still living in Missouri at the time and my sister Annette and I made the long drive to Northern Missouri to be with him and his wife Sondra to visit with him, and encourage him before he went under the knife. It was scheduled to be a four hour surgery, so after every 30 minutes or so they would send someone in to give us a report on how the surgery was going. After about the second hour the reports stopped coming and no one out front was able to give us any information. It was unnerving being kept in the dark not knowing what all was happening, so it was a sigh of relief when after three hours the surgeon finally came in to tell us that the surgery went better than expected and that Daddy was being rolled into the recovery room at that very moment. Seeing how anxious we were, he reassuringly told us that although Daddy was still unconscious from the medication we would be allowed to see him for a quick moment. When we went in, there he laid very still. Upon his chest they had placed a very large white gauze bandage over his fresh wound. I was seemingly drawn to this bandage and I just could not take my eyes off of it. To this day I am not sure what possessed me to do such a thing, but I asked the nurse who was monitoring him if I could see what the doctors had done to his chest. I could tell by the look on my sister’s face that she was thinking “What… are you crazy?” but the nurse said yes and without hesitation walked over to take off the bandage to show us all. I stepped up closer to him so that I could have a better look, when all of a sudden my father made a wild jerking movement and pulled himself away from the nurse. The nurse was just startled a bit but I was completely mortified. As the nurse regained her composure a bit she proceeded again to show us the wound. But before she got a chance I said, as I was slowly backing away, “No, it is okay I don’t want to bother him.” She commented on how it was no problem he was not in any pain or anything he was unconscious but sometimes the body reacts in jerking motions as it is coming down off the anesthetics. Righhhhhhhht…Okay sure this may be true, but a strange eeriness came over me and for some reason it just felt wrong, so I declined and told the nurse to just let him be. I never once gave it another thought until recently.

For several days I had been heavy laden about Daddy and was still trying to narrow down the choices of what to do with his remains. One night while I was sleeping I had a vivid dream. I was walking in a beautiful meadow feeling the loving warmth of the sun upon my face and the peacefulness of life in my heart, when strangely from out of nowhere there appeared in front of me a familiar door. I was hesitant at first but then made the decision to go on ahead and walk through it. What ever peace I did have it left me at the moment that I walked through that door. I was lifted and whirled through time to find myself once again standing before my father in the recovery room waiting for the nurse to remove the bandage, only this time my father was awake and he looked straight at me and in a pleading tone said to me “Don’t uncover my ugliness.” My heart began to ache, I knew this dream was of great significance but I did not fully understand the meaning of it. I ask the Lord to reveal it to me, and over time He did. Do you remember in the movie Raiders of the Lost Ark, where the people lifted the lid on the Ark of the Covenant and strange –looking creatures floated out and destroyed the people around it? Well all except for Indiana Jones and Marion because they kept their eyes closed and didn’t look at it. Well this of course is biblically inaccurate, but it may surprise you to learn that the Bible does record a story about a village called Beth-she-mesh who did just that. In this village the people lifted the mercy seat of the ark, and looked inside. “And he smote the men of Beth-she-mesh, because they had looked into the ark of the Lord, fifty thousand and three-score and ten men:” (I Samuel 6:13-20). What was in the ark? was there strange creatures that at first were beautiful and became ugly? No. Well wait maybe in theory… But one thing was clear God did not want people to look upon it.

What was really inside the ark were three things: the golden pot of manna, Aaron’s rod, and two tablets of stone on which God had written the Ten Commandments. (Hebrews 9:5) The golden pot of manna represented man’s rebellion against God’s provision. The Bible calls manna “angels’ food and when the children of Israel ate it while they were in the wilderness, none of them were sick for forty years. Yet, they called it “worthless bread.” The rod of Aaron represents man’s rebellion against God’s appointed leadership. The people of Israel were complaining against God’s appointment of Aaron as the high priest, so the rod was placed overnight in the tabernacle and shot it forth branches that bore fruit and flowers. God had caused Aarons’ rod to bud supernaturally to show the people that it was He who had indeed appointed Aaron. The two stones tablets of God’s commandments represented man’s rejection of His standard of holiness and our inability to keep his laws perfectly. These items could depict several different aspects of meaning, but can you also see that every item in the ark speaks of our sins and rebellion against God? But what did God do with our sins and rebellion? He put them all into the Ark of the Covenant and covered them with the mercy seat where the blood of the animal sacrifices was placed. By doing this, He was saying that He did not want to look upon man’s sins and rebellion. That is why he placed them in the ark and covered them with the mercy seat. Once a year, the high priest would enter the holy of holies where the ark was kept and sprinkle the blood of the animal that was sacrificed on to the mercy seat. As long as the blood was there on the mercy seat, God only saw the blood and accepted the people. Today Jesus is our high priest and He Himself has sprinkled His own blood on the true mercy seat in heaven –the throne of grace. The Ark of the Covenant is a shadow of our Lord Jesus Christ, His person, and His work. Because of His blood, all our sins have been cleansed. That is why it was dangerous for anyone back in those days to lift the mercy seat to uncover the sins and rebellion that God had covered. The mercy seat was not to be lifted at any time, and the consequences for doing so were severe, as seen at Beth-she-mesh. So what does God see when he looks upon us? “He sees His Sons blood that was applied.”

The large white gauze upon my father was typified as healing forgiveness. Once this gauze was place upon him you could no longer see the wound of his surgery or whatever it was that was being covered. All that one could see when they looked upon him was the brightness of the pure white gauze. We all think we may know very well what was under that gauze without actually looking at it, but Daddy doesn’t want us under there feeling and reliving the pangs of everything that he might have done wrong. He can not change what happened. He feels them as well as we do because yes, sadly too Daddy was never able to make it right. So he was asking me to stop looking under the covering and only see him through the eyes of Christ and the forgiveness that was given to him, for he knows it is only in this way that we can truly be healed.
It is the same for every one, once you extend the cover of undeserving forgiveness upon someone, leave it alone and go in peace. The healing begins when each time you look upon them you only see the blood of Christ that was applied. Tell yourself, “I did not deserve God’s forgiveness, but He forgave me through Christ so I forgive this person also.” It is only when we lift the covering that we see and feel the pangs of our offenders past sins against us. And just as God did not want the people to lift the mercy seat of the ark, he does not want us to looking under the covering of our forgiveness. This will surely harm you. God wants to heal you but you must let go, and forget their debts. Holding on causes bitterness and it will eventually overtake you, no one suffers but you. You will lose your peace, your health and your joy in life.

I have made the decision on where to bury Daddy. It will be in Phoenix next to Momma. Glendale Memorial Cemetery has given us the heartfelt permission to do so. They will take care of the burying of the urn, the making of the tombstone and its inscriptions of our choice, the placing of the tombstone, and a small ceremony if we so desire for around $1100. If you were unable to help the first time and would like to do so now it would be most welcomed, but I am not going to ask any one again to send money to help pay for this. This proved to be too great of a burden, and I don’t think I am much cut out for being a fund raiser. So I will take care of this.
Some may feel that placing Daddy next to Momma may be undeserving, as Momma was a perfect precious saint of a mother. I do agree, Momma was a precious saint, but perfect…? So yes this may be “undeserving favor” that we are placing upon Daddy, but isn’t this a good place to start, so that we may all partake in receiving Gods amazing healing. "For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified." (I Corinthians 2:2)

Special Delivery

"to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness"

There I stood in line at the post-office, with my upright professional stance, waiting for my turn. I had received a little green post-card in the mail the day before. I knew it was coming I had been waiting an unusually long time to receive it. After several hand twisting, gut churning days and numerous phone calls asking where it was, it had finally arrived, I could now breathe a sigh of relief, but instead of a package it was a note simply telling me I must go to the post office in order to receive it. I am well aware of the normal procedure for receiving certified mail, so of course I was expecting to just sign the card and receive the package, but not this time… this was quite different. “Very well”, I said “I shall go and pick it up.” My husband in his infinite wisdom knew better and offered to go and take care of this for me. “Nonsense” I proclaimed. I knew I had to go into town anyway so naturally I would just stop and pick it up after I took care of the errands for the day. By nature I am a bold, confident, take charge person, life had a way of demanding this from me. As I stepped up to the counter I handed my postcard to the postmaster who was an older lady. “Oh honey” she said in her thick southern accent “You wer'nt supposed to sign this yet until you actually received the package.” She paused, then just stood there looking at me, for what seemed like an eternity before she hobbled over to a small locked vault. Slowly she started turning a wheel and unlocking the combination upon the door. Feeling a little weird-ed out by the silence in the room, I started commenting on how it took so long to get here, and how I just didn’t understand given the distance from whence it came why it would take so long. She opened the door, reached inside and carefully pulled out a small brown box. As she started walking back, the closer she came to me I could see some unusual red markings stamped all over the box. Human remains…Suddenly I became sick and very weak. My upright stance turned into trembling legs that could hardly stand. I became frozen, as I felt the piercing eyes of every soul there resting upon me. She gently sat it on the counter and kindly began to explain how a package like this required special care. Everyone, no matter who they were, be it a mail carrier, clerk or driver, they all had to fill out a form and sign that they handled the package. “Such a procedure does make it take much longer to reach its destination”, she said. I just stood there paralyzed with grief, not really knowing what to do. “Even though you’ve already signed it you don't have to take it if you don't want to”…“I can fix that”. Fighting very hard to hold back my tears I just silently shrugged and nodded, picked up the box and walked away to my car, feeling like the little girl who once again had lost her daddy…, only this time I knew he wasn’t coming back.

There in my arms I carried my father and placed him in the seat beside me. My numbness managed to keep my tears in check, but the drive back home became seeming long and unbearable as waves of mixed emotions pounded upon me…; Joy, laughter, sadness, confusion, anger…, all crashing and receding into a sea of utter loneliness. I was awakening with a hyperawareness that the last reason for my existence on earth was forever gone and so was my longest known identity. Never again would I be known by someone as their daughter. I pulled into my driveway, parked the car, and walked into the house. I left the box on the seat, for now the weight was much too great for me to carry anymore. There standing and waiting in the living room was my husband. His mouth speaking nothing, but his heart saying everything, as he wrapped his out stretched arms around me and cradled me with his amazing love. It was there where I could safely weep, and wept I did. I had not mourned the loss of my father until that day. I guess I never really could believe that he was gone.

There on my shelf my father was safely tucked away, waiting once more in a temporary holding place, but this made for me long grievous nights. I simply could not seem to get a hold of myself, night after night “What is wrong with me?” I wondered. My heart kept clinging ever so tightly to HIS promise “Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning”. “Where is this joy Lord”? I cried “Where is this joy”. I slowly began to realize that my grief in part was that I felt so terrible about my father being cremated, it was not his wish, nor was it his children’s doing; and yet there was nothing I or anyone could do to change it. At long last my Lord and Savior lead me to Psalms 116:
“I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell (grave) gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. Then called I upon the name of the Lord ; O Lord I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Gracious is the Lord, and righteous: yea, our God is merciful. The Lord preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and he helped me. Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee. For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling and I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living”
So thus a great peace came over me, and yes joy did come in the morning… in the rising of the SON in my heart.

The following day while at my computer I was writing a letter to someone about my father, when suddenly for no apparent reason, a picture of him just popped up on my screen. It was a picture that I had posted on this blog but why it popped up when it did, I don’t know. I nearly fell over backwards in my chair. It was most uncanny, but strangely reassuring. Somehow I feel that Daddy is appreciative and grateful to us all, given the circumstances, in taking care to release him into his final resting place. So now I propose to do just so. There are several options available as to where to go from here, but of those options, there are two things that I will not accept. First Daddy WILL be buried I can not in all good conscience allow anyone to have some of his ashes to put here and there on different mantels. Please forgive me if I offend, as I mean no disrespect to any but just having his remains here on my shelf waiting is unnerving as it is and I do so feel like they ache to be released into the ground. Second I will not pour him down his favorite fishing hole, grant it he was a sportsman but this isn’t happening, this would be disrespectful. Daddy WILL have a tombstone. So there are two cemeteries in which we can bury him one is back in Missouri around his home-place where his mother and brothers etc. are buried. Trish and our Aunt Ruby could help to do this, and I do believe they would do just that… very well. The other cemetery is in Phoenix, Arizona where Momma is buried. Sammy will help to take care of this and I believe he also would do just that…very well.
I will tell you that I myself desire greatly for Daddy to be buried by Momma. It would be nice to be able to see both tombstones together. I know Daddy is not from Arizona but neither was Momma. That’s just where we were living at the time she died. A lot of family has started to move into that area and somehow it just seems fitting for him to be there next to Momma. But selfishness aside if more of you desire for him to buried in Missouri then I promise I will make sure that is what we do, but You MUST contact me and let me know how you feel. Just a note… Amazingly enough just as I finished writing this blog, I went over to the couch to rest when the most beautiful eight point buck came strolling up into my yard not twenty feet from my door.
He just stood there in all his glory and gazed at me before he slowly turned around and walked back into the woods. It was so graceful and breathtaking that I could not help but to weep yet again. I have seen many does on my property but never any bucks. I know Daddy is approving and proud of us all. I love you much. Hang on a little while longer, and be at peace knowing it is almost closing time.

In Memory of John L Smith

John Leland Smith

March 5, 1928 – August 4, 2007

The events surrounding my father’s death, sadly, may never be fully known, though there is still research going on to try and find out. For three years the only thing any of his children ever knew was that he had been quickly cremated, against his will of course, and to the dismay of his family. Daddy never received a funeral. There was no eulogy given, nor any procession. I am not even sure if there was a notice of his death printed in the newspapers. It’s very hard for anyone to have closure, given the circumstance, and I believe that everyone needs this.
But no doubt if one was to have written a eulogy about my father, they would be hard pressed to find a way to sum up his life. There were a lot of different sides to him, and really it depended on who you were talking to as to what was thought about him. He was a very complicated man for sure.

As the last child of ten children, here is a tribute to John L. Smith through my eyes.

John was one of six children born to David Smith and Florence Winningham He also had five 5 half siblings from His mother Florence and step-father Elvin Bishop.
He was married on Oct 1945 to Mary Margaret Henderson. They were married for over thirty years before her death in April 1976.
Together they had ten children:

Betty Houk
John D. Smith
Carl Smith (deceased Feb 2007)
Sam Smith
Trisha Tegman
Barbara Houchins
Jim Smith
Tim Smith
Annette Smith
Rebecca Houk

Twenty-five grandchildren, fifty-four great grandchildren, and two great-great grandchildren.

He later was married to Sondra Cole for 29 years before his death in August 2007.

He was well loved by many members of the churches where he frequented throughout his life. He would always lend a hand at church whenever help was needed, be it a Sunday school teacher, an usher, or a fundraiser.
He greatly loved the outdoors and enjoyed playing with his dogs. He was an outdoor sportsman in the highest sense of the word. I have many memories of the hunting seasons when he would go hunting along with his sons, son-in-laws and grandsons. After the hunt the men would all display their kill, usually deer, and proudly tell the stories of how the events all unfolded. In his later years his love for fishing became almost that of an obsession, so much so that he bulldozed part of his land to build a small lake just so that he could spend time relaxing and fishing. Hunting and fishing were about the only things that seemed to help him to relax as he was not one who knew how to rest well. He was one of the hardest workers I have ever known. He always brought home his paycheck and gave it to my mother who would then stretch it and made us appear as if we were rich.

Daddy was however a very hot tempered, bull headed, abusive man to his wife and children. He left many deep scars and wounds in everyone of his children that only God could ever heal. I do believe though that he loved his wife Margaret very much as she was the only one who knew how to laugh, and was able to stand and push him to a point to recognize his own weaknesses. Momma had amazing godly strength and love, and a forgiving heart like none other. Had she not died so young I believe there would have been reconciliation between Daddy and his children as she was the true anchor of this family. I was only eleven years old when Momma died. But one thing I learned that what she left behind was a desire for all of us kids to see past the ugliness of mankind and see the Christ within. After Momma died Daddy was lost and confused. He was not good alone, and as a result he began making poor decisions. Decisions that drove some of his children further away and some always struggling to continue a relationship with him. Most all of us children did keep somewhat in touch with Dad until the day he died. I believe we were all driven by an inner hope that healing would come. One thing I will say though, is that even given the way that Daddy was, he still always acknowledged the need for Christ in one's life.


John Smith with seven of his ten children at a family reunion in 1986.


Thus ends my eulogy of Daddy and now comes the very hard truth……….

Knowing this desire of Momma was a good godly instruction, I have always made a point to try and keep a relationship with Daddy. It became very hard once Daddy married Sondra. Sondra was twenty-five years younger than him. Dad had four Children older than her and two very close to the same age as her. This does a bit of weirdness to the brain of one who has siblings older than the wife of the father. I was torn between my siblings, (who were older and wiser than Sondra) and Sondra. My siblings saw and knew things that I did not know. Sondra made mistakes. But that’s not to say that some of my siblings were not heartaches themselves. But when I was sixteen years old Daddy had made it very clear to me, with a slap across the face that I will never forget, that a poor choice or not it was his choice and that he wanted me to respect that. I knew then and there that if I was to have a relationship with Daddy it would have to be through Sondra. And so I respectfully did just that for twenty-nine years.

When time or space would keep us from seeing and visiting with Dad, I would always call and check up on him and keep in touch. The last year of Daddy’s life I was going through my own turmoil of my son’s illness and the many trips back and forth to the hospital. I lost track of Dad and I don’t know what happened to him. Several of my phone calls were not returned, and when they were returned the conversations were not always on the up-and-up so to speak. Dad’s cell phone had been disconnected. None of us children really knew what was going on and it caused us all to feel that something was wrong. Because I now lived in Tennessee and was unable to leave my son, Annette and Trish at my urging went to see daddy. It was not good; there were no clear answers as to what was going on. While they were there Trish had called me and given me a small window of time to talk to daddy on the phone. This was the last time I would talk to him. I will forever be grateful to Trish for this. Once Sondra had restricted them from coming to the hospital there was nothing more anyone could do. Every attempt to find and talk to Daddy was met with resistance. Every attempt to find what was wrong with him was also met with resistance. We all were kept in the dark until he died three months later. I was not even aware of his death until I heard he had been cremated. When things happen like this you just can’t help but to feel that there was something ill fated about the whole thing. But I made a point to forgive and remembered a promise I had made to Daddy years before he had died.

I received a phone call three years later much to my surprise from Sondra. She had asked to come and visit and I of course said yes. It was a good visit. While she was here I asked her what she did with Daddy’s ashes. She told me they were still at the funeral home and that she needed $2000.00 to get him out. I told her I would talk to the family and see what I could do. I don’t know that she would have told me anything about Dad unless I had asked, and upon research I found that some of the things she did say were not true. Sondra did not tell me what funeral home had Dads remains. Sammy and his son Jason found them and to our surprise they still have them. I personally talked to the county coroner and he told me that they were very happy to be able to finally place Daddy’s remains in the hands of family. It was highly unusual to have peoples remains left behind and never picked up. He sent me a copy of Daddy’s death certificate and they will mail Dad’s ashes to me so that we can give him a proper burial. Mr. Holdren said it will cost us $1000.00 to get them released. This will cover all his expenses.

I hate so much that Dad was cremated, but he was. Now I am asking all of you to help me. I believe that we have been given a chance by God to finally be able to have closure. I desire greatly to recover his remains and bury them and give him a headstone. At the moment I do not know where we will bury him, but it will be a decision that we all make together. I do not have the finances to do this alone. But even if I did I do not think it would be right to shoulder this responsibility alone. None of us should. Among us all remaining nine children and many grandchildren, there is no reason why we can not all pull together enough money to take care of this. My own children have given $100.00 already to help. They too desire to see their grandfather buried. Especially after seeing Momma’s grave for the first time while we were in Arizona. Please don’t delay, three years was a long time to have to wait to close a door.

Graduation

Kevin is the youngest of our children. We are so very proud of him. He is one of the most dedicated students I have ever known. I know he is happy to be finished and ready to move onward. Thank you, to those who sent him a gift. All of the money has gone to Southern Adventist University, where he will be majoring in Film Production. It is an expensive university, but one of the best suited for what he is majoring in. Kevin has been awarded enough scholarships and grants, that for his first year, 95% of the cost will be covered. The University is located one hour South of us near Chattanooga. It will be hard for us, because Kevin will have to live in the dorm while he attends there; meaning he will be the first to leave home. He is only seventeen years old.

After homeschooling our three children for seventeen years, my husband and I are graduating too. A part of me is jumping for joy, shouting hal-le-lu-jah. Strangely though, the biggest part is sad. Not because I will miss schooling, but because graduation means: "moving on to that next level", and usually that involves leaving your mentor. As a parent we love our children and want to keep them close forever. But as mentors we want for them to move on and excel. So how then does a mother (who is a mentor) encourage her son, all the while knowing it sends him further away? It will be a new stage-in-life for us. One that, like all the other stages, we will have to Trust in the Lord.

The Last Rite. Handing over the diploma, in exchange for flowers. Intertwined within me both sadness and joy.
All Nineteen Graduates

Fellow Graduates and Best Friends. Celebrating at the reception. Over 350 people attended the graduation it was truely beautiful!

CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 2010

A Merry Heart Doeth Good As a Medicine

Dustin getting ready for dinner. Age 22 and holding

The Power of Laughter

I heard a minister on television the other day talking about the results of a Chinese Oncologist’s research on the immune system and your health. The Doctor found that a single bout of anger will negatively affect your immune system for 6 hours, while good deep laughter will positively affect your immune system for 24 hours, by releasing health enhancing endorphins.
I was happy to hear this for I dearly love to laugh.

We have a good collection of DVD’s. We enjoy watching them and are always on the look out for more. Some of the movies are really stupid but they serve a great purpose…. to bring up the big belly laughs. I can’t tell you how many times I would be driving along in my car and I would just think of something that I had seen in a movie or a sitcom and start laughing. There are some people who have an incredible ability to be able to make others laugh. I find it interesting that in I Corinthians 12, where there are the diversities of gifts that “the gift of laughter” isn’t one of them, because it truly is a healing blessing for us all. I have some nieces and nephews who God has certainly bestowed this blessing upon.
Danika and Kevin are also quite the comedians, although they both act so silly and goofy sometimes that I know people often think they are coo-coo. As a parent I have certainly been approached more than once about my children’s “behavior misfits”. While I never condone disrespecting behavior, I do know that at times everybody needs a little comedic relief, so do forgive me if I respond by telling you to “lighten up”.
Most usually we can control the time and place to laugh, and should be respective of when and where those times are. However……….
I remember one time when I was a little girl, we (the last 4 kids at home) and Momma and Daddy were out driving in the old station wagon. I do not remember all of the particulars of why, but the car broke down and we were stuck at a gas station. Daddy became angry after repeated attempts to start the car. I can remember watching him as he was cranking down on the key, his coal black hair flying across his face with every forceful pump on the gas peddle. It was scary. We kids well aware of Dads anger made a point to be very still, and quiet. Nobody ever liked seeing Daddy angry. It was a most intense moment. Then all of a sudden, Momma starts laughing!!!!! We are not talking about just a little chuckle here folks, she started in and before long she was deep in a (turning blue) laugh. Daddy went nuts! The harder she laughed the harder he cranked the key, and stomped the gas peddle. Now Momma’s was not one of disrespectful nature in any way, and as we all well knew Daddy was not a man to trifle with. Watching this was mortifying, we quietly began begging Momma to please stop, but to no avail. The bluer Momma turned from laughing the redder daddy turned from anger. This was not the time or place to be laughing. It was like watching a pressure cooker sitting on a stove and Momma was messing around with the seal which will make it explode. Finally Daddy gets out of the car and slams the door so hard that the window shattered into a million pieces. We kids burst into tears from the sheer terror of the whole ordeal. We did not understand what on Gods green earth would cause Momma to laugh so hard and be so happy at such a terrifying moment. It wasn’t until years later that I understood what really came over her that day.
The night that Dustin had went down, Clayton, the kids and I, as well as some family and friends were all at the hospital near the emergency room waiting to see Dustin. They would not let us travel with him in the ambulance. I hated being separated from him. Clayton and I were put through the usual hospital barrage of questions by the secretary for insurance information. Afterwards we set down and joined the others who were waiting. The tension was so thick and depressing. It was near 1 or 2 AM. Nobody was really talking as there wasn’t much that could be said. We had been warned that since Dustin had been dead for over 5 minutes before he was resuscitated it would be very likely that he would have serious brain damage. I felt sick from my body's constant trembling, so in effort to try and relax I got up and started pacing the floor. When surprisingly from out of the secretary’s box office we all heard this loud obnoxious snoring…. I quietly walked over to the office to the find the secretary with her head down on her desk, just a-snorin’ away; I turned around with my arms outstretched in disbelief and a bit disgruntled said “you have got to be kidding me the hospital secretary is sleeping on the job”!! then it happened…..suddenly I started laughing so hard,
It was really bizarre, just moments before I had been handed some awful news, this most certainly was not the right time or place to be laughing, yet I could not get a hold of myself to stop. I don’t know what came over me but it became infectious and everyone caught it, before long we became louder than Miss. Sleeping Beauty’s snoring. As I laughed, I cried, and with every tear I felt waves of peace came over me and a knowing that everything was going to be alright. When the nurse came in to tell us we could now see Dustin I am sure she thought we were morbid for carrying on like we were at such a time. Upon seeing Dustin he looked up at me and asked (as best as he could with tubes in his mouth) “Where is Kevin”? I knew then his mind was ok and that he did not suffer any brain damage.
Looking back, I now know that what came over Momma and I was the pure joy of the Lord. As in His word he promised, “The Joy of the Lord is our Strength”. Each of us was going through extreme measures of difficulties at that time and the only way to get the strength to go through it was by having Joy and laughter, no matter however misinterpreted..... it may be.

Turning Point

These past five years here in Tennessee have gone by very quickly. I can hardly believe we have lived here that long. But with some major turning points happening in our lives, it is easy to understand how time just slips away.

What is a Turning Point?

It is an unexpected event that happens to you whether good or bad that causes you to change your perspective on life.

When your perspective on life changes, then the way you live your life usually also changes; hopefully for the better, but sadly sometimes it is for the worse. I have seen this many times among my friends and family that after a bad event they have allowed bitterness to take root in their heart and it has changed them into hard, uncompassionate souls. It is easy to be angry right? After all we’re hurt in the process! and God the Almighty Loving God could have kept it from happening but…. He didn't. Why? you ponder, why would God allow this to happen to me? Is He displeased with me? Does He love me less than that certain Holier than thou person? Am I paying for my past sins…… stilllllllllllllllllllllllll??????, or is this just the way God is......, leaving you never knowing what He is going to do?
Knowing how this wicked emotion can slither into ones heart and play horrible havoc with your mind, your health, and especially your relationship with the Lord, I have always been on guard to protect my heart from anger and bitterness. But here lately being worn down and very tired it has been challenging to keep from feeling angry at the Lord.
Our life has always been somewhat difficult since Dustin was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy at the age of seven; he was showing signs of this cruel illness when he was two years old with his wobbly little walk and his inability to climb stairs. We of course were clueless to knowing that anything was wrong with him. Once he went into the wheelchair by his tenth birthday, we had to watch his little body become more and more contorted and twisted and deformed. In spite of everything we stayed encouraged knowing that our Lord Jesus Christ is a healing God, and that our Dustin would be made whole. I can’t begin to tell you how many times we were rebuked for holding on to that hope not only by Doctors, and friends but even our family. We were often looked upon as delusional and irresponsible parents who were living in denial; but as hard as all those years were they were mild upsets compared to now.
When Dustin went down it was pretty hard, that long night set off a chain reaction of enormous pain tugging at our heart and hardship that is still rippling through the very core of our lives. Occasional we will get a call from family who ask,” How are things”? My answer is, and always will be "all is well". I don’t say this because I don’t want you to know about our life it’s just that by nature I am not a whiner, so I tend to refrain from going into much detail about things. But for the purpose of illustrating my turning point. I will share with you. There is no area of our life that has been untouched, there was no “going about Business as usual” our normal way of living became a thing of the past.
Dustin is on a ventilator 24 hours a day, to those who do not know what this is, it is a complex machine that breathes for you, and it works through a trache that has been placed in a hole in your throat. By having it attached this way leaves your mouth free to eat and talk (although you no longer have sound come through when you speak.) Dustin is not on a feeding tube, but he cannot move his arms so we feed him all his meals, he does not have a catheter so when he needs to go to the bathroom we also help him. While he cannot move anything on his body he can wiggle his toes, move his lips to talk, and moves his eyes as far as his head is turned. He is not paralyzed he feels everything.
Because he has no muscle mass he is extremely sensitive to touch and weight (some blankets puts too much weight on him), he cannot scratch an itch or slap a bug. We bath him, and brush his teeth for him. He is totally dependent upon us for his care. Since he is bed ridden his once beautiful teeth have all fell backwards spreading apart so much that it is difficult to chew most meat. What normally takes the average person 15 minutes to eat takes him 1 and ½ hours to eat. Because he has no voice he has to be watched so that he can tell you when he needs help. And only I can read lips. He cannot be left alone; a clog of mucus can choke him and cut off his air supply within seconds. We moved his bed into our bedroom so at night we can continue to care for him. Sometimes we don’t get much sleep, and I will tell you, sleep deprived people have altered personalities. His machine has alarms that will go off when the breathing pressure is not right. My hearing impairment keeps me from hearing these alarms so Clayton or one of the other kids always have to be there with me.
As for our finances we lived off our savings until they were depleted, then we sold a lot of things from our home, we still do. We have borrowed some money and been given some as a gift. We cannot hold a 9- 5 job because we have to be available at a moments notice. We don’t qualify for an in home nurse. We don’t get food stamps or welfare. We never have. Although we have been so broke that for the first time in my life I can honestly say we have had times when there was no food in our house, or gas in the car.

I could go on but I’ll stop here, les I trod down the path of despair.
Being in this situation has brought us to our knees many times crying out to God to please give us the wisdom as to what to do. Do we continue to believe for healing life or prepare for death? “I am willing and ready for either Lord “I cried. “Just give us something to hold on to. One day a family member out of love thought perhaps it would be best to talk to Dustin about death and to share with him how we simply go from one life to another and that it is not painful but the afterlife is beautiful and how maybe he was hanging on to life because he was afraid to die. Having never had this conversation with my son, you can only imagine how difficult it was to find the words to talk to him about it. I did though all without tears. Dustin was very still, he listened, never butting into the conversation. When I was finished he calmly and a bit sternly said”Momma I am not afraid to die, I am just not ready. It’s not my time to die.” Then I heard the Lord say to me “you wanted something to hold on to …there it is LIFE.
Dustin chooses life so you should do so as well.
Having a child who chooses to live when every earthly thing is against him is humbling.
If we are to hold on to life with him and be encouraged in the Lord for his healing then where is there room for anger and bitterness? Both can not dwell in the same place at the same time.

Philippians 4:6-8

Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of a good report; If there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

I just love these verses, are they not beautiful. How comforting for me to know that, when I am weary, I cry out to the Lord, and he walks with me to show me those things that are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, and are of a good report, and their virtue.
Oh how the Praises overcome me, and like a warm blanket the wisdom and peace of the Lord guards my heart for me.

Just For You

Ok Family and Friends, after many requests from all of you, I have now entered into the world of cyberspace. As I journeyed through all the social outlets that the internet has to offer I felt that having a blog was much more suiting to my personality. I guess I am more of a quite girl after all. I do hope that this decision is pleasing for all of you, but be patient with me as I am still warming up to the idea of having my thoughts available for the world to hear.