It's that time of year again! Time for family, good friends, and awesome food! The smell of freshly baked Pumpkin and Apple pies, Turkey cooking in the oven, and Yams cooking on the stove! A time we all come together to hear children laughing and playing about, to tell our loved ones of our appreciation for them, to show our friends that they are more than friends, they are family! A time to count the many things we have to be thankful for.
Have you stopped and thought about the many things YOU have to be grateful for? The things that have happened that make you stop in your tracks and say Thank you, sometimes over and over again. The things that make you take notice of the friend you have in others, or the love you have for your family. What about those things that remind you that your Lord is always doing his work in your life? Sometimes we do not stop to take notice or to give thanks for the things that prevail in our lives at that particular moment. Now is the time!
This year I have found that I have many things to be grateful for. Things that have not only prevailed this year alone, but also in the years past as well. Many of which I have taken for granted and not realized how grateful I should have been.
This year alone, I have faced many different challenges. Challenges which have made me realize that I can not face my future alone and be able to maintain any kind of courage or sanity. These challenges have put me back in the hands of my Lord. I am Thankful for finding him and for finding the faith that allows me to know whole heartedly that he will take care of me throughout my life and the many trials which I am faced with. I am thankful that My Lord loves me unconditionally and that no matter how far I ever stray from him, he will always be there waiting for me to come back, and that He will always graciously accept me when I do. I am grateful for the love He gives!
Throughout my life, I have put my parents through pure hell. Through it all, they have loved me unconditionally, taken care of me when I couldn't take care of myself, showed me right from wrong, protected me with everything they had, provided for me, gave me the best and the most loving parents one could ever ask for, and gave me an awesome life. I am thankful for the parents I have and for the unconditional love they have always given. I know I do not always show it or tell it, but my heart and soul feels it throughout each and every day, my mind thinks of them throughout each and every day, and my memories remind me of their love through each and every day. They are forever my heart and my soul.
I am thankful for my children. For the unconditional love I found through the birth of each and every one of them. I am thankful for the unconditional love they have given me throughout each and every day of their lives and through the trials that I put them through. I. am thankful that no matter the circumstances surrounding my children and I, they continue to love me and I continue to love them. I am thankful the Good Lord blessed me with these children as I could not imagine my life without them or the love they give.
I am thankful for the man I married and have devoted my life to loving. He brings me joy, peace, comfort, and a new feeling of love. I am blessed with a man who is loving, patient, understanding, and devoted to his family. I could not imagine my life without him or the love he so graciously gives.
I am thankful for all of my family who has been there for me, put up with all my crap, and has loved me and supported me through it all. I am truly blessed with wonderful brother's and sister's, aunt's and uncle's, niece's and nephew's, Grandma's and Grandpa's, and all of my cousins. I am thankful for each and every one of them and the love they have to give!
I am thankful for my friend's who are both near and far, and for my friends who have come and gone. For their ears that listen to all my problems, and their hearts that are so patient as to put up with me throughout the year's, or even for a short time. I am thankful for the joy, the laughter, the love, and the tears that I have shared with each one of them.
Overall, I am thankful for the 37 years of life the Lord has blessed me with! For all the hard lessons learned, for the many joys, for the many people in it, and for the love that I have ben blessed to give and to receive. I am thankful for everything this life has given me, and for everything it has to offer.
Thank you Lord for the life and the Love You have so graciously given me and Blessed me with!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
Fear and Inspiration
Often times we are faced with challenges which can stir up many questions in our mind, and emotions in our heart. Sometimes the answers seem quite clear, but sometimes, our mind can be clouded, leaving us unsure, once again. Then, one day we come face to face with a situation which leaves an Inspirational imprint on our heart.
As Bradley (my son) and I stepped out of the elevator and into the front lobby, I noticed there was a lady about my age sitting by the lobby doors, waiting very patiently. On her lap sat a blanket which kept her legs warm, and in her hands was a book which she was reading to pass the time. She seemed quite content at the moment. Then I noticed that she was sitting in a wheelchair.
As we walked by her to exit the lobby, the young lady looked up, and our eyes met with a friendly smile and a warm greeting. As Bradley and I approached the car, I expressed to him my concern for her, wondering if she was ok or if she needed any help. It was difficult to sit patiently in the car because I felt as though I had just let this lady sit, alone, not knowing her circumstances.
We headed back inside the building to wait on Grace to be done with her appointment, and I noticed the lady was still sitting there reading her book. Although she seemed to be content, I could not help but ask her if she was ok or if she needed any help. She smiled so sincerely and explained to me that she was fine and that she was just waiting on call-a-ride. Call-a-ride is an organization that helps the disabled get to their appointments when they can not drive, or do not have transportation. Again she smiled and then thanked me for my concern. I could then rest a bit easier knowing that she was ok. So, Bradley and I continued to the elevator, to the second floor, and to the office where we continued our wait for Grace to be done.
As this lady was so young and so pretty, the situation had raised a lot of emotion for me. When Bradley and I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, all I could say was "Hello Reality". She was too young and too pretty to be sitting in that wheelchair. I guess disabilities are none picky about who they attack. I already know this, given my present circumstances, but seeing her sitting there like that really hit home for me. I felt bad for her. She did not seem to be the happiest person in the world, but she surely was not bitter either. She did, however, seem to be quite content for the moment. It made me wonder, is she content with the present situation, waiting on her ride? Or is she content with her life in general? This I will never know, but I would like to think that she is content with her life in general, and that she has found peace within her circumstance.
This raised a lot of debate within my own mind. What is life going to be like when I can no longer drive myself to my own appointments? Will I be as patient and content as this lady seemed to be? Will I be as friendly and as grateful to those willing to help as she was with me? Or will I be impatient, and mad at the world? What will life be like when I can no longer drive myself to the grocery store to use the time shopping as some time to myself? Will I see it as just spending time with my family and be grateful for thier help? Or will I be bitter and angry because I can no longer do it on my own? What will life be like when I can no longer do the seemingly simple things on my own like I can now? Will I be able to be content with my life and thannkful for the family that is so willing to help? Or will I be bitter and jealous because I used to be able to, but now I need assistance? Will I accept thier help? Or will I be hard headed and stubborn, determined to do it on my own? Will my children be accepting and willing to help me the way they are now? Or will they be bitter and mad towards me because helping me adds to the things they have to do? Will this cause resentment towards me from my family? Will my kids be ashamed of me when it comes to their friends, their school events, or even the things they do in their adult lives? Or will they not care about the looks, the pointed fingers, and the laughter from others in this world? The last thing I ever want to do to this family is to slow them down or make more responsibility on them than they deserve. I want my children to live happy and normal lives, not to have to worry about the parent at home that needs taken care of. It's my job as a parent to take care of them, not the other way around.
My husband is awesome in his reassurance to me that he will take care of me every step of the way,and I love him dearly for that. He reassures me that he will do everything he possibly can to make sure I keep my independance, and that he will always be here to help me with anything and everything that I can not do on my own. He reassures me that his love for me is so great, that he will not mind helping me in any way he possibly can. I am grateful for the husband and the children that I have. He is sincere in his efforts of reassurance for my comfort. Still I wonder though, how long will it take for resentment to set in? How long will he go to work day after day, and then have to come home to take care of a wife that should be taking care of him, before he gets tired of it? How long before he starts making excuses to not come home right away because he does not want to deal with it? If I have days that are filled with depression, anger, fear, or negative, will he fall into that, or will he hold me tight and be patient and understanding? As with my children, I do not want to slow him down or become a burden to him. I do not want him to feel like the world is on his shoulders.
There are so many things that scare me with this situation, but I continue to tell myself over and over again that my family loves me for me, and that they will do for me as I would do for them in this situation. I still have to remember though, they are as human as I am. I know they will go through changes with this as well. Where I ask of them to be patient with me, I will also have to be patient with them as the adjustments are made.
Although many questions and emotions were raised by seeing this young lady, I walked away from her with a lot of Inspiration as well. She seemed to be content and accepting of her situation. She was patient and occupied with a good book while she waited on her ride. She was very kind and grateful to those who asked if she needed help, or struck conversation with her, and she greeted each person with a beautiful smile and a kind and gentle tone of voice. As there was no one there with her to help, she seemed to still hold her independance. I pray to be more like this woman when it is my time to face this situation.
I pray for the strength and the courage to smile through every situation, and towards every person that crosses my path. I pray for the patience and contenment with every situation which I have to wait for others to assist with the things I can no longer do on my own. I pray for the love in my heart to be grateful for every ounce of help that is given to me. And I pray for the peace in my soul to be able to accept my situation as it is, and to not be bitter about it. I pray for the trust in my fmaily, that they will not hold resentment or shame towards me in any given way. I pray for the faith that I will find continued independance and that I will never be a burden on my family.
I know that with my faith and my trust in the Lord, these things will be blessed upon me. I know the Lord will contiue to keep his hand upon me througout each and every trial that comes my way. I also know that without him, I can not do this. I am one of his many, many children, and I know that he will take care of me and he will not love any less through any path that my life is on.
*Alone I can do nothing, but with God, all things are possible*
As Bradley (my son) and I stepped out of the elevator and into the front lobby, I noticed there was a lady about my age sitting by the lobby doors, waiting very patiently. On her lap sat a blanket which kept her legs warm, and in her hands was a book which she was reading to pass the time. She seemed quite content at the moment. Then I noticed that she was sitting in a wheelchair.
As we walked by her to exit the lobby, the young lady looked up, and our eyes met with a friendly smile and a warm greeting. As Bradley and I approached the car, I expressed to him my concern for her, wondering if she was ok or if she needed any help. It was difficult to sit patiently in the car because I felt as though I had just let this lady sit, alone, not knowing her circumstances.
We headed back inside the building to wait on Grace to be done with her appointment, and I noticed the lady was still sitting there reading her book. Although she seemed to be content, I could not help but ask her if she was ok or if she needed any help. She smiled so sincerely and explained to me that she was fine and that she was just waiting on call-a-ride. Call-a-ride is an organization that helps the disabled get to their appointments when they can not drive, or do not have transportation. Again she smiled and then thanked me for my concern. I could then rest a bit easier knowing that she was ok. So, Bradley and I continued to the elevator, to the second floor, and to the office where we continued our wait for Grace to be done.
As this lady was so young and so pretty, the situation had raised a lot of emotion for me. When Bradley and I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, all I could say was "Hello Reality". She was too young and too pretty to be sitting in that wheelchair. I guess disabilities are none picky about who they attack. I already know this, given my present circumstances, but seeing her sitting there like that really hit home for me. I felt bad for her. She did not seem to be the happiest person in the world, but she surely was not bitter either. She did, however, seem to be quite content for the moment. It made me wonder, is she content with the present situation, waiting on her ride? Or is she content with her life in general? This I will never know, but I would like to think that she is content with her life in general, and that she has found peace within her circumstance.
This raised a lot of debate within my own mind. What is life going to be like when I can no longer drive myself to my own appointments? Will I be as patient and content as this lady seemed to be? Will I be as friendly and as grateful to those willing to help as she was with me? Or will I be impatient, and mad at the world? What will life be like when I can no longer drive myself to the grocery store to use the time shopping as some time to myself? Will I see it as just spending time with my family and be grateful for thier help? Or will I be bitter and angry because I can no longer do it on my own? What will life be like when I can no longer do the seemingly simple things on my own like I can now? Will I be able to be content with my life and thannkful for the family that is so willing to help? Or will I be bitter and jealous because I used to be able to, but now I need assistance? Will I accept thier help? Or will I be hard headed and stubborn, determined to do it on my own? Will my children be accepting and willing to help me the way they are now? Or will they be bitter and mad towards me because helping me adds to the things they have to do? Will this cause resentment towards me from my family? Will my kids be ashamed of me when it comes to their friends, their school events, or even the things they do in their adult lives? Or will they not care about the looks, the pointed fingers, and the laughter from others in this world? The last thing I ever want to do to this family is to slow them down or make more responsibility on them than they deserve. I want my children to live happy and normal lives, not to have to worry about the parent at home that needs taken care of. It's my job as a parent to take care of them, not the other way around.
My husband is awesome in his reassurance to me that he will take care of me every step of the way,and I love him dearly for that. He reassures me that he will do everything he possibly can to make sure I keep my independance, and that he will always be here to help me with anything and everything that I can not do on my own. He reassures me that his love for me is so great, that he will not mind helping me in any way he possibly can. I am grateful for the husband and the children that I have. He is sincere in his efforts of reassurance for my comfort. Still I wonder though, how long will it take for resentment to set in? How long will he go to work day after day, and then have to come home to take care of a wife that should be taking care of him, before he gets tired of it? How long before he starts making excuses to not come home right away because he does not want to deal with it? If I have days that are filled with depression, anger, fear, or negative, will he fall into that, or will he hold me tight and be patient and understanding? As with my children, I do not want to slow him down or become a burden to him. I do not want him to feel like the world is on his shoulders.
There are so many things that scare me with this situation, but I continue to tell myself over and over again that my family loves me for me, and that they will do for me as I would do for them in this situation. I still have to remember though, they are as human as I am. I know they will go through changes with this as well. Where I ask of them to be patient with me, I will also have to be patient with them as the adjustments are made.
Although many questions and emotions were raised by seeing this young lady, I walked away from her with a lot of Inspiration as well. She seemed to be content and accepting of her situation. She was patient and occupied with a good book while she waited on her ride. She was very kind and grateful to those who asked if she needed help, or struck conversation with her, and she greeted each person with a beautiful smile and a kind and gentle tone of voice. As there was no one there with her to help, she seemed to still hold her independance. I pray to be more like this woman when it is my time to face this situation.
I pray for the strength and the courage to smile through every situation, and towards every person that crosses my path. I pray for the patience and contenment with every situation which I have to wait for others to assist with the things I can no longer do on my own. I pray for the love in my heart to be grateful for every ounce of help that is given to me. And I pray for the peace in my soul to be able to accept my situation as it is, and to not be bitter about it. I pray for the trust in my fmaily, that they will not hold resentment or shame towards me in any given way. I pray for the faith that I will find continued independance and that I will never be a burden on my family.
I know that with my faith and my trust in the Lord, these things will be blessed upon me. I know the Lord will contiue to keep his hand upon me througout each and every trial that comes my way. I also know that without him, I can not do this. I am one of his many, many children, and I know that he will take care of me and he will not love any less through any path that my life is on.
*Alone I can do nothing, but with God, all things are possible*
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Forgiveness
"Forgiveness is to set a prisoner free, and to realize the prisoner was
you." - Corrie Ten Boom
FORGIVENESS -The process of concluding resentment, indignation, or
anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or
ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.
Laying on hot pavement, being held down on the ground, everyone staring
down at me, not realizing at first what was really happening. My
bicycle leaning against the light pole behind my head, crushed. Then,
realizing I had been hit by a semi, I couldn't see a semi anywhere
around me. Did the police have the semi and driver? I didn't see any
police around. Was the driver one who was looking down on me? I seemed
to recognize everyone who was looking down on me, so was it someone I
knew? No, it was none of the above. The driver had fled the scene,
leaving a nine year old child to lay on the hot pavement, alone, dead
or alive.
Did the driver even care? What did the driver have to hide that he
couldn't stop to attempt to help? What was the driver afraid of? Or was
the driver just that cold and calloused?
For 27 years, I have asked these questions over and over again. Noone
has ever come forward to claim the accident, and I doubt anyone ever
will. For many years, I have wished the driver pain and suffering. For
many years after, I wished this person horrifying nightmares, night
after night. I have wished torturing flashbacks of the accident on that
driver. Why? Because of the things I am left to live with. Flashbacks
of the hood of the truck, flashbacks of the tires running over my body.
Years later, fears of my own truck running me over during inspections,
during drop and hooks, during adjustment of trailer tandems, and during
adjustments of my own brakes. And now, the rest of my life with
physically debilitating medical conditions.
Have I forgiven that driver? Of course I haven't. I have forgiven the
accident itself because I know that accidents happen. But, I have never
forgiven the driver for running from the accident so carelessly. Such
an act of immorality, unkind, and inhumane.
I have not yet found a justifiable reason to forgive this act. But, I
am at a point in my life that I realize, it's simply the right thing to
do. Does that make it any easier to do after 27 years? No, it sure
doesn't. But I believe that if I can find it in my heart to forgive the
driver, my healing process will become much easier. It is then that I
will be able to focus on healing instead of focusing on being the
victim. It is only then, that I will be able to release myself from my
prison cell full of memories, visions, replayed feelings and questions,
in which I have lived for 27 years.
Forgiveness is a commitment to a process of change. To truly achieve
forgiveness, one must recognize the importance of forgiveness in their
lives at a given time. For me, there has never been a time in which I
felt it necessary to forgive that driver, until now.
With my current medical conditions, my upcoming treatments, and future
conditions which I am facing, every part of that day has come back to
haunt my mind. More visions, more nightmares, and more questions of
what, why, and how.
What did I ever do so bad at the age of nine, to deserve such inhumane
treatment? This challenges my spiritual beliefs in knowing that God
does not punish his children. Why didn't the driver stop to se if I was
dead or alive? "The secret to forgiving everything, is to understand
nothing. " - George Bernard. How could a person live with themselves
knowing a life could have just been taken by their hand and they did
nothing to help? Luke 6:37 - "Judge not and you will not be judged. Do
not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be
forgiven."
So much of my energy is wasted on anger and hatred towards that driver
because of the way I was left for dead in the road that day. If I could
redirect that energy towards healing and acceptance, I could then move
on with the rest of my life with love and forgiveness in my heart,
instead of questions and negativity on my mind.
Forgiveness is a choice we make. It is not mandatory to forgive our
trespassors, it's also not something that we can just say to someone
and truly mean. It takes time to truly forgive someone for their acts
against us. When we choose to forgive someone whole heartedly, we
choose to agree with ourselves to overlook the wrong one has done to us
and move on with our lives. We are willing to give up our resentment,
revenge, and obsessions, allowing God's divine love to flow through us,
dissolving all hurt, bitterness, and sense of injustice.
Our reward for forgiving our trespassors - freedom from our own prison
cell.
Forgiveness does not mean that we condone the act, or that we have to
reconcile with that person. Forgiveness does not depend on one's
apologies or their changing of ways. Forgiveness is simply finding
peace inside oneself that can not be compelled or stopped by another.
The key ingredient to forgiveness, is compassion. But to have
compassion for others, we must have compassion for ourselves. We must
care.
As for me, I am sure I will forgive the driver, in time. I am trying to
learn to forgive one day at a time, no matter how difficult the task.
Every day I pray for the capability to do so, and if I have to forgive
over and over again, the Lord's work with my heart will eventually be
complete. It is then that the driver will be forgiven and I will
continue to move on. My best foot is forward in the attempt to achieve
this goal.
"Forgiveness is to set a prisoner free, and to realize the prisoner was
you." - Corrie Ten Boom
you." - Corrie Ten Boom
FORGIVENESS -The process of concluding resentment, indignation, or
anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or
ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.
Laying on hot pavement, being held down on the ground, everyone staring
down at me, not realizing at first what was really happening. My
bicycle leaning against the light pole behind my head, crushed. Then,
realizing I had been hit by a semi, I couldn't see a semi anywhere
around me. Did the police have the semi and driver? I didn't see any
police around. Was the driver one who was looking down on me? I seemed
to recognize everyone who was looking down on me, so was it someone I
knew? No, it was none of the above. The driver had fled the scene,
leaving a nine year old child to lay on the hot pavement, alone, dead
or alive.
Did the driver even care? What did the driver have to hide that he
couldn't stop to attempt to help? What was the driver afraid of? Or was
the driver just that cold and calloused?
For 27 years, I have asked these questions over and over again. Noone
has ever come forward to claim the accident, and I doubt anyone ever
will. For many years, I have wished the driver pain and suffering. For
many years after, I wished this person horrifying nightmares, night
after night. I have wished torturing flashbacks of the accident on that
driver. Why? Because of the things I am left to live with. Flashbacks
of the hood of the truck, flashbacks of the tires running over my body.
Years later, fears of my own truck running me over during inspections,
during drop and hooks, during adjustment of trailer tandems, and during
adjustments of my own brakes. And now, the rest of my life with
physically debilitating medical conditions.
Have I forgiven that driver? Of course I haven't. I have forgiven the
accident itself because I know that accidents happen. But, I have never
forgiven the driver for running from the accident so carelessly. Such
an act of immorality, unkind, and inhumane.
I have not yet found a justifiable reason to forgive this act. But, I
am at a point in my life that I realize, it's simply the right thing to
do. Does that make it any easier to do after 27 years? No, it sure
doesn't. But I believe that if I can find it in my heart to forgive the
driver, my healing process will become much easier. It is then that I
will be able to focus on healing instead of focusing on being the
victim. It is only then, that I will be able to release myself from my
prison cell full of memories, visions, replayed feelings and questions,
in which I have lived for 27 years.
Forgiveness is a commitment to a process of change. To truly achieve
forgiveness, one must recognize the importance of forgiveness in their
lives at a given time. For me, there has never been a time in which I
felt it necessary to forgive that driver, until now.
With my current medical conditions, my upcoming treatments, and future
conditions which I am facing, every part of that day has come back to
haunt my mind. More visions, more nightmares, and more questions of
what, why, and how.
What did I ever do so bad at the age of nine, to deserve such inhumane
treatment? This challenges my spiritual beliefs in knowing that God
does not punish his children. Why didn't the driver stop to se if I was
dead or alive? "The secret to forgiving everything, is to understand
nothing. " - George Bernard. How could a person live with themselves
knowing a life could have just been taken by their hand and they did
nothing to help? Luke 6:37 - "Judge not and you will not be judged. Do
not condemn and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be
forgiven."
So much of my energy is wasted on anger and hatred towards that driver
because of the way I was left for dead in the road that day. If I could
redirect that energy towards healing and acceptance, I could then move
on with the rest of my life with love and forgiveness in my heart,
instead of questions and negativity on my mind.
Forgiveness is a choice we make. It is not mandatory to forgive our
trespassors, it's also not something that we can just say to someone
and truly mean. It takes time to truly forgive someone for their acts
against us. When we choose to forgive someone whole heartedly, we
choose to agree with ourselves to overlook the wrong one has done to us
and move on with our lives. We are willing to give up our resentment,
revenge, and obsessions, allowing God's divine love to flow through us,
dissolving all hurt, bitterness, and sense of injustice.
Our reward for forgiving our trespassors - freedom from our own prison
cell.
Forgiveness does not mean that we condone the act, or that we have to
reconcile with that person. Forgiveness does not depend on one's
apologies or their changing of ways. Forgiveness is simply finding
peace inside oneself that can not be compelled or stopped by another.
The key ingredient to forgiveness, is compassion. But to have
compassion for others, we must have compassion for ourselves. We must
care.
As for me, I am sure I will forgive the driver, in time. I am trying to
learn to forgive one day at a time, no matter how difficult the task.
Every day I pray for the capability to do so, and if I have to forgive
over and over again, the Lord's work with my heart will eventually be
complete. It is then that the driver will be forgiven and I will
continue to move on. My best foot is forward in the attempt to achieve
this goal.
"Forgiveness is to set a prisoner free, and to realize the prisoner was
you." - Corrie Ten Boom
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The way it all began
I was raised in a small town in Ohio, population-not a lot(lol)! It was a town where everybody knew everybody! Two small churches, one store, one gas station, two bars, one with a restaurant and one with just a grill. A grain elevator which we lived directly in front of, a post office and legion hall in the same building, a school with a playground and two baseball fields in the back, Mom and Dad's ceramic shop, a fire station and a bank on the same property, the towns very own 'junk shop', and a 'one man band' police station. O ya, and our very own telephone company, who'd a thunk it? The town was four miles square and there are two main state routes that run through town, one is east and west, one is north and south, intersecting right smack dab in the middle of the town! The small town life was awesome! There really was not a lot for the kids to do in this town, but the community did their best to keep us busy and keep us out of trouble. I think most of that was due to there only being one town cop, a lot of hiding places, and knowing where to go to not get caught! We had our own softball and baseball teams during the summer, with practices every day, for as long as we wanted! It was so much fun! As kids, we rode our bikes all over the place when we were not busy playing ball. It was plain out AWESOME!
As a child, I had an awesome upbringing! With the best parents a kid could ask for, I wanted for nothing. We weren't rich, but my parents made sure we never went without. They were awesome parents and awesome providers! I could only wish to be more like my parents! My Dad was a sheet metal worker, and my Mom owned her own Ceramic Shop. On the weekends, my Dad worked in the shop with Mom to help her out with the pouring of molds. I spent a lot of time in that Ceramic Shop with my Mom and Dad. I learned to paint, pour small molds, clean some of the smaller greenware, anything that I could do that I wouldn't destroy. I was always a clumsy kid, and that hasn't changed one bit! I may not be a kid anymore, except for at heart, but I am still clumsy! When my Dad would get laid off from time to time, he would be in the shop helping my Mom and giving her a much needed and very well deserved break. He was also a registered Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) on the town's Ambulance (ya, we had one of those too!). If he was laid off or not working for one reason or the other, he stayed on call around the clock! I couldn't even begin to tell you how many nights I was woke up to his pager going off and Dad hustling out the door to tend to a call. The things my Father saw, you couldn't even fathom unless you have ever been an EMT on a Life Squad. I think what made it worse, was that most of the calls he went on were for people which he has known most of his life, or kids he watched grow up over the years. You know that had to have been difficult for him.
I remember the summer of 1983 pretty well. My parents had got me a brand new bike for Christmas the year before, my very first ten speed! It was a bright red girls bike, a Huffy Scorcher! It was awesome and I loved it! My parents had put one stipulation on me with this bike and that was to take the bycicle safety course that the town police was putting on at the beginning of the summer. Not only was it my first big bike, but it was my key to freedom, so they wanted to make sure I knew the safety rules so that I did not hurt myself (which never happened, I was clumsy,lol). One of the men that my Father was friends with decided he was going to be a police officer that year to help the 'one man band' become a 'two man circus', to say the least!
I remember one of the rules they taught us very clearly. When you do not have the option of a sidewalk, always ride AGAINST the traffic. How well do you think that flew with a bunch of young kids? (LOL) I can rememeber a day that this man was at the shop talking with my Dad and I decided to go to my friends house who lived on the very far end of town. When I left, I rode WITH the traffic instead of AGAINST it. I'll have you know, before I even got a block away, the man yelled for me to come back, so I did. Only to get my butt chewed out because I had just been through the class and was taught to ride against the flow of traffic, not with it. Needless to say, I took his words and ran with them, I always rode against the traffic after that. When I would leave the shop, there was one area that used to be a sidewalk. The town had tore the sidewalk up and replaced it with a thick layer small stone and pebble. On a ten speed bike in those days, that was rough terrain, especially for a beginner, so I would ride in the parking spaces next to the curb. Seems safe enough, right? Not riding in the road where I could get hit, and not riding in the gravel where I would wipe out and get all skinned up. Fair enough! Or at least I thought so anyway.
One of the things I loved to do, was go to the far end of the town and go cray fishing with my friend in the creek by his house. We had a lot of fun and served no purpose other than to catch crawdads! We weren't hurting a soul! I would carry my bucket on my handlebars and the old shoes that I would use were tied together hanging from the handlebars as well. I was going to play in the creek! When my Dad got laid off in late July 1983, he mounted a basket on the front of my bike so that it was safer for me to carry my bucket and shoes, and anything else I may have had to carry with me! I was in Heaven!
On Monday, August 8, 1983, at 7:20 pm, my life changed, forever.
My Mom was home doing her normal canning for that time of year and my sister was there helping her. My sister was married and pregnant at the time. My Dad had opened the shop up that evening, every Monday and Thursday night they would open up for a few extra hours. I had asked Mom if I could go cray fishing for a couple hours and she was fine with that, but I had to stop at the shop first and get my bucket from Dad. I remember leaving the shop, passing the gas station, crossing the small intersection, riding against the traffic like I was instructed to do, then riding next to the old sidewalk. The next thing I knew, my back was burning, I looked up, and realized I was laying on the ground looking up at a lady who was also on the squad with my Father. I looked around and saw people looking at me from behind, then I saw my Father running towards me. At that point, I was not sure what was going on except that the ground was extremely hot, I was thirsty, and I was being held down. A man approached the lady who was crouched over me before my Dad could get to us and asked her what happened. She tried to turn her head so that I could not see what she was saying, but I saw her lip the words to him, "She was just run over by a semi, I need the Ambulance, NOW!" It was at that very moment that I remembered what had just happened, I started to freak out, fighting to get up, but couldn't. There were 3 adults holding me down, I was 9 years old.
My dad came to my side and reassured me that I would be ok if it was the last thing he ever did.The next thing I knew, my Mother was on her knees at my left side, crying. I lifted my left arm to hug her and told her that I would be ok because I knew Dad would help me and asked her to please not cry because I was fine. My left arm was the only thing I could move except for my head. I did not realize just how bad the situation really was, all I knew was that my Dad was on the squad, and that I had full and complete trust that he would make sure I would be ok, just like he said. While the EMT's, my father included, were trying to get shock pants on me, an inflatable sleeve on my right arm, and a brace around my neck, I had both my Mother and my Sister right next to me talking to me. I remember that it seemed as though the EMT's were having problems getting those pants on me, but I didn't know why, I just knew I had to keep my Mother and my sister from crying. At that point, I was more worried about them crying so bad than I was worried about what they were having to do to me just to get me off the road. Finally, they were able to get me on the stretcher and load me into the ambulance. I gave my Mother and my sister a hug and kiss and told them that I would be fine because Dad was going with me. My Father was so awesome, he was involved with all the medical care just as he would have been with a stranger. Can you imagine?
In the ambulance, I remember my Dad on my right side, a close friend of the family's who was also on the squad to my left, and a two of the lady's who were on the squad and friend's of the family at my knees, one on the right, one on the left. The man who decided to be a police officer that year was also an EMT and he was sitting behind my head. He was the one communicating with the hospital in the town 20 miles away to let them know the injuries, stats and ETA, which is when I found out that not only was I crushed, but I was not all completely in tact either. I think the only thing that kept me calm at that point was my Father who kept telling me that he was going to make sure I would be ok. I beleived him because I knew that he would make sure that I was, and he did! I remember trying to go to sleep on the ride to the hospital and my Dad kept telling me that I would have enough time for sleep later, but for the moment, I had to stay awake and talk to him. So I did, the best I could. I was so thirsty that they had a wash cloth that they were putting in cold water and putting an edge of it in my mouth so that I could suck the moisture off of it.
We arrived at the Hospital and into the Emergency room I went, surrounded by doctors, bright lights and white curtains. I do not remember a whole lot about being at that particular hospital except my sister coming in and asking me if I remembered what happened. Ya, I remembered! So I began to explain, I was riding my bike along the sidewalk and a semi looked like he was pulling over, but before I could get out of the way, he hit me with the grill on the hood of the truck, I saw a bunch of tires coming at my head, so I turned my head and the next thing I knew, I was being held down on the ground. Come to find out, I had flown airborne thru half of a block, across a small intersection, landed in front of the gas station, where all nine tires on the passenger side of the truck ran over my entire body, except for my left arm and my head, by the Grace of God. I had nine sets of tire tread on both legs, my stomach, my chest, my right collar bone and shoulder, and on my right arm. I was literally crushed.
I was lucky enough to be air lifted by Life Flight to St.Vincent Hospital in Toledo, Ohio where my brother was a surgeon at and also the first person I saw when we got there and the helicopter door came open. My parents had to drive from where I started, to there which was about 35 miles. Needless to say, it only took me 7 minutes to get there. My brother never left my side, even into the surgery room where they told me to count backwards from 100. My brother told me he loved me very much and that I was going to be fine, and then he started counting with me. I remember asking him if I was going to wake back up. He sort of snickered and told me yes I would and that I had the best doctors in the world to take care of me. I know the count didn't take long, I fell asleep looking at my brother who was counting with me. During surgery, the surgeons literally had to put me back together. My right leg was attached to me only by mere threads. I was literally torn apart, on top of being crushed. My right foot was crushed and the bones broken to peices, left leg crushed but broken in two places, right hip was crushed and broken in different places, my pelvis was crushed and broken in different places, my entire right arm was crushed but somehow not broken, hair shaved from the right side of my head, only because I turned it to keep the tires from running my head over, which I can still remember seeing and doing to this very day.
After a lengthy surgery, the surgeons told my parents that they had put dozens, times dozens, times dozens, times hundreds of dozens more stitches in me to put me back together, but the operation was a success! Thank you Lord! They also told my parents that there was a good chance I would never walk again and a better chance that I would never be able to carry any children to full term, if at all. I remember waking up in ICU and my Mother was standing next to me at my bed side. She kissed me and reassured me that she was right there beside me, Dad was there and so was my brother and sister, but they were in the waiting room waiting to be able to see me. I was so happy to see my Mother that I thought I was going to get up out of bed to hug her, needless to say, that didn't happen. I couldn't lift my right arm which looked bruised from top to bottom, and I couldn't lift my butt, which really really hurt. I looked at my Mom and started crying, " My butt is glued to the bed!" She told me I wasn't glued to the bed, that I had some really bad injuries and my butt was one of the areas injured.
I spent two and a half days in the ICU unit, which was a miracle in itself. They finally put me in a normal room where I was able to start eating food and drinking water. My food consisted of jello, jello water, and water for a day or two before they started giving me food with a little more substance, a little at a time. I had tubes and IV's running every which way out of my body, doctors and nurses were in and out constantly, and I honestly can not remember a time that my Mother left my bedside for more than 5 minutes for the first week. She had to teach me all over again how to hold a spoon to feed myself, how to hold a pencil and learn to write all over again, but within just a few days, she had me doing it on my own, God Love Her!
One week after the accident, the doctors had both of my legs casted, and they finally started putting me in a wheelchair a little bit at a time, and then to physical therapy where I had the most awesome therapist. He taught me how to lift my legs in the air, he taught me how to sit up on my own, and then he tauht me how to have wheelchair races down the hospital hallways and how to pop a wheely in the chair, which about gave my Mother a heartattack! Two weeks to the day of the accident, I was checking out and going home with my parents! My Mother had to pick me up out of my wheelchair, casts and all, and put me into bed, get me out of bed, to go to the bathroom, to get in and out of the car for doctors appointments. If I had to leave the chair for anything for the first month, I had to be lifted by my Mother or Father. A month after the accident, I was learning how to get in and out of the wheelchair on my own, which meant my Parents did not have to do as much work except when I would over do it and didn't have the strength to do it anymore. Eventually, I was scooting around the house on my butt, going to the bathroom, finally able to get to my bedroom and into my own bed. I was finally able to scootch my butt into a normal kitchen chair so that I could eat with my family like normal, instead of in the wheel chair. I spent my 10th birthday, which is in September, in a wheel chair. My parents took me to an awesome Mexican Restaraunt for my birhday, where the waiters sang Happy Birthday to me and made me cry. I went through a lot of emotional changes during this time in my life. Happy when I was able to accomplish something, but sad, angry and crying when I could do nothing on my own. I went throuh massive stages of depression. There were moments I wanted to just give up because I didn't think I could do it, but my family kept supporting me and told me to keep trying as I felt I could and that I would find eventually it would get easier, and it did!
Two and a half months after the accident, my casts were being taken off my legs, I was given a set of crutches to use when I wanted to try and walk, and in therapy, they were teaching me how to walk all over again! I only used the crutches for less than a month before I was able to stand and walk on my own, three and a half months after being crushed and ripped in two! Nine months after my accident, I was back on a brand new bicycle. Nine months after the accident, the coach of the towns girls' softball team invited me to come play with them, so I did. I had 10 successful years of playing softball. Less than 7 years after my accident, I gave birth to my first child, Leon. I carried him full term, but was unable to have a natural childbirth, he was taken by emergency ceserean.
This is why, 27 years later, I am diagnosed with the many issues that I have been diagnosed with. O, and so you know, I spent ten successful years behind the wheel of a semi as my profession! We never did find the truck or the driver who hit me. He fled from the scene of the accident and left me lay for dead. Sad, but true! As I sit and write this blog for the rest of the world to see, memories and flash backs bring back a lot of emotional pain, but it also takes me to the most grateful feeling a person could ever have! My Lord has blessed me with a normal and full life, I can not and will not complain about any of it. Instead, I will hold on and cherish what my life has become until the day I die. I would be lying if I told you that none of this ever bothers me, because it does. I still cry, I still get angry, I still get weak, and at times, I still give up. But I have my Lord and my Family to whom I am grateful for, for keeping my head afloat, even when my chin has dropped to my chest and my face drownding in my own tears.
Thank You Lord for Blessing my life the way you have! I know that your blessings will continue to shine, and when I am the weakest, I know that it is then, that you carry me! You are my life line and I could never ask for more! AMEN!
As a child, I had an awesome upbringing! With the best parents a kid could ask for, I wanted for nothing. We weren't rich, but my parents made sure we never went without. They were awesome parents and awesome providers! I could only wish to be more like my parents! My Dad was a sheet metal worker, and my Mom owned her own Ceramic Shop. On the weekends, my Dad worked in the shop with Mom to help her out with the pouring of molds. I spent a lot of time in that Ceramic Shop with my Mom and Dad. I learned to paint, pour small molds, clean some of the smaller greenware, anything that I could do that I wouldn't destroy. I was always a clumsy kid, and that hasn't changed one bit! I may not be a kid anymore, except for at heart, but I am still clumsy! When my Dad would get laid off from time to time, he would be in the shop helping my Mom and giving her a much needed and very well deserved break. He was also a registered Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) on the town's Ambulance (ya, we had one of those too!). If he was laid off or not working for one reason or the other, he stayed on call around the clock! I couldn't even begin to tell you how many nights I was woke up to his pager going off and Dad hustling out the door to tend to a call. The things my Father saw, you couldn't even fathom unless you have ever been an EMT on a Life Squad. I think what made it worse, was that most of the calls he went on were for people which he has known most of his life, or kids he watched grow up over the years. You know that had to have been difficult for him.
I remember the summer of 1983 pretty well. My parents had got me a brand new bike for Christmas the year before, my very first ten speed! It was a bright red girls bike, a Huffy Scorcher! It was awesome and I loved it! My parents had put one stipulation on me with this bike and that was to take the bycicle safety course that the town police was putting on at the beginning of the summer. Not only was it my first big bike, but it was my key to freedom, so they wanted to make sure I knew the safety rules so that I did not hurt myself (which never happened, I was clumsy,lol). One of the men that my Father was friends with decided he was going to be a police officer that year to help the 'one man band' become a 'two man circus', to say the least!
I remember one of the rules they taught us very clearly. When you do not have the option of a sidewalk, always ride AGAINST the traffic. How well do you think that flew with a bunch of young kids? (LOL) I can rememeber a day that this man was at the shop talking with my Dad and I decided to go to my friends house who lived on the very far end of town. When I left, I rode WITH the traffic instead of AGAINST it. I'll have you know, before I even got a block away, the man yelled for me to come back, so I did. Only to get my butt chewed out because I had just been through the class and was taught to ride against the flow of traffic, not with it. Needless to say, I took his words and ran with them, I always rode against the traffic after that. When I would leave the shop, there was one area that used to be a sidewalk. The town had tore the sidewalk up and replaced it with a thick layer small stone and pebble. On a ten speed bike in those days, that was rough terrain, especially for a beginner, so I would ride in the parking spaces next to the curb. Seems safe enough, right? Not riding in the road where I could get hit, and not riding in the gravel where I would wipe out and get all skinned up. Fair enough! Or at least I thought so anyway.
One of the things I loved to do, was go to the far end of the town and go cray fishing with my friend in the creek by his house. We had a lot of fun and served no purpose other than to catch crawdads! We weren't hurting a soul! I would carry my bucket on my handlebars and the old shoes that I would use were tied together hanging from the handlebars as well. I was going to play in the creek! When my Dad got laid off in late July 1983, he mounted a basket on the front of my bike so that it was safer for me to carry my bucket and shoes, and anything else I may have had to carry with me! I was in Heaven!
On Monday, August 8, 1983, at 7:20 pm, my life changed, forever.
My Mom was home doing her normal canning for that time of year and my sister was there helping her. My sister was married and pregnant at the time. My Dad had opened the shop up that evening, every Monday and Thursday night they would open up for a few extra hours. I had asked Mom if I could go cray fishing for a couple hours and she was fine with that, but I had to stop at the shop first and get my bucket from Dad. I remember leaving the shop, passing the gas station, crossing the small intersection, riding against the traffic like I was instructed to do, then riding next to the old sidewalk. The next thing I knew, my back was burning, I looked up, and realized I was laying on the ground looking up at a lady who was also on the squad with my Father. I looked around and saw people looking at me from behind, then I saw my Father running towards me. At that point, I was not sure what was going on except that the ground was extremely hot, I was thirsty, and I was being held down. A man approached the lady who was crouched over me before my Dad could get to us and asked her what happened. She tried to turn her head so that I could not see what she was saying, but I saw her lip the words to him, "She was just run over by a semi, I need the Ambulance, NOW!" It was at that very moment that I remembered what had just happened, I started to freak out, fighting to get up, but couldn't. There were 3 adults holding me down, I was 9 years old.
My dad came to my side and reassured me that I would be ok if it was the last thing he ever did.The next thing I knew, my Mother was on her knees at my left side, crying. I lifted my left arm to hug her and told her that I would be ok because I knew Dad would help me and asked her to please not cry because I was fine. My left arm was the only thing I could move except for my head. I did not realize just how bad the situation really was, all I knew was that my Dad was on the squad, and that I had full and complete trust that he would make sure I would be ok, just like he said. While the EMT's, my father included, were trying to get shock pants on me, an inflatable sleeve on my right arm, and a brace around my neck, I had both my Mother and my Sister right next to me talking to me. I remember that it seemed as though the EMT's were having problems getting those pants on me, but I didn't know why, I just knew I had to keep my Mother and my sister from crying. At that point, I was more worried about them crying so bad than I was worried about what they were having to do to me just to get me off the road. Finally, they were able to get me on the stretcher and load me into the ambulance. I gave my Mother and my sister a hug and kiss and told them that I would be fine because Dad was going with me. My Father was so awesome, he was involved with all the medical care just as he would have been with a stranger. Can you imagine?
In the ambulance, I remember my Dad on my right side, a close friend of the family's who was also on the squad to my left, and a two of the lady's who were on the squad and friend's of the family at my knees, one on the right, one on the left. The man who decided to be a police officer that year was also an EMT and he was sitting behind my head. He was the one communicating with the hospital in the town 20 miles away to let them know the injuries, stats and ETA, which is when I found out that not only was I crushed, but I was not all completely in tact either. I think the only thing that kept me calm at that point was my Father who kept telling me that he was going to make sure I would be ok. I beleived him because I knew that he would make sure that I was, and he did! I remember trying to go to sleep on the ride to the hospital and my Dad kept telling me that I would have enough time for sleep later, but for the moment, I had to stay awake and talk to him. So I did, the best I could. I was so thirsty that they had a wash cloth that they were putting in cold water and putting an edge of it in my mouth so that I could suck the moisture off of it.
We arrived at the Hospital and into the Emergency room I went, surrounded by doctors, bright lights and white curtains. I do not remember a whole lot about being at that particular hospital except my sister coming in and asking me if I remembered what happened. Ya, I remembered! So I began to explain, I was riding my bike along the sidewalk and a semi looked like he was pulling over, but before I could get out of the way, he hit me with the grill on the hood of the truck, I saw a bunch of tires coming at my head, so I turned my head and the next thing I knew, I was being held down on the ground. Come to find out, I had flown airborne thru half of a block, across a small intersection, landed in front of the gas station, where all nine tires on the passenger side of the truck ran over my entire body, except for my left arm and my head, by the Grace of God. I had nine sets of tire tread on both legs, my stomach, my chest, my right collar bone and shoulder, and on my right arm. I was literally crushed.
I was lucky enough to be air lifted by Life Flight to St.Vincent Hospital in Toledo, Ohio where my brother was a surgeon at and also the first person I saw when we got there and the helicopter door came open. My parents had to drive from where I started, to there which was about 35 miles. Needless to say, it only took me 7 minutes to get there. My brother never left my side, even into the surgery room where they told me to count backwards from 100. My brother told me he loved me very much and that I was going to be fine, and then he started counting with me. I remember asking him if I was going to wake back up. He sort of snickered and told me yes I would and that I had the best doctors in the world to take care of me. I know the count didn't take long, I fell asleep looking at my brother who was counting with me. During surgery, the surgeons literally had to put me back together. My right leg was attached to me only by mere threads. I was literally torn apart, on top of being crushed. My right foot was crushed and the bones broken to peices, left leg crushed but broken in two places, right hip was crushed and broken in different places, my pelvis was crushed and broken in different places, my entire right arm was crushed but somehow not broken, hair shaved from the right side of my head, only because I turned it to keep the tires from running my head over, which I can still remember seeing and doing to this very day.
After a lengthy surgery, the surgeons told my parents that they had put dozens, times dozens, times dozens, times hundreds of dozens more stitches in me to put me back together, but the operation was a success! Thank you Lord! They also told my parents that there was a good chance I would never walk again and a better chance that I would never be able to carry any children to full term, if at all. I remember waking up in ICU and my Mother was standing next to me at my bed side. She kissed me and reassured me that she was right there beside me, Dad was there and so was my brother and sister, but they were in the waiting room waiting to be able to see me. I was so happy to see my Mother that I thought I was going to get up out of bed to hug her, needless to say, that didn't happen. I couldn't lift my right arm which looked bruised from top to bottom, and I couldn't lift my butt, which really really hurt. I looked at my Mom and started crying, " My butt is glued to the bed!" She told me I wasn't glued to the bed, that I had some really bad injuries and my butt was one of the areas injured.
I spent two and a half days in the ICU unit, which was a miracle in itself. They finally put me in a normal room where I was able to start eating food and drinking water. My food consisted of jello, jello water, and water for a day or two before they started giving me food with a little more substance, a little at a time. I had tubes and IV's running every which way out of my body, doctors and nurses were in and out constantly, and I honestly can not remember a time that my Mother left my bedside for more than 5 minutes for the first week. She had to teach me all over again how to hold a spoon to feed myself, how to hold a pencil and learn to write all over again, but within just a few days, she had me doing it on my own, God Love Her!
One week after the accident, the doctors had both of my legs casted, and they finally started putting me in a wheelchair a little bit at a time, and then to physical therapy where I had the most awesome therapist. He taught me how to lift my legs in the air, he taught me how to sit up on my own, and then he tauht me how to have wheelchair races down the hospital hallways and how to pop a wheely in the chair, which about gave my Mother a heartattack! Two weeks to the day of the accident, I was checking out and going home with my parents! My Mother had to pick me up out of my wheelchair, casts and all, and put me into bed, get me out of bed, to go to the bathroom, to get in and out of the car for doctors appointments. If I had to leave the chair for anything for the first month, I had to be lifted by my Mother or Father. A month after the accident, I was learning how to get in and out of the wheelchair on my own, which meant my Parents did not have to do as much work except when I would over do it and didn't have the strength to do it anymore. Eventually, I was scooting around the house on my butt, going to the bathroom, finally able to get to my bedroom and into my own bed. I was finally able to scootch my butt into a normal kitchen chair so that I could eat with my family like normal, instead of in the wheel chair. I spent my 10th birthday, which is in September, in a wheel chair. My parents took me to an awesome Mexican Restaraunt for my birhday, where the waiters sang Happy Birthday to me and made me cry. I went through a lot of emotional changes during this time in my life. Happy when I was able to accomplish something, but sad, angry and crying when I could do nothing on my own. I went throuh massive stages of depression. There were moments I wanted to just give up because I didn't think I could do it, but my family kept supporting me and told me to keep trying as I felt I could and that I would find eventually it would get easier, and it did!
Two and a half months after the accident, my casts were being taken off my legs, I was given a set of crutches to use when I wanted to try and walk, and in therapy, they were teaching me how to walk all over again! I only used the crutches for less than a month before I was able to stand and walk on my own, three and a half months after being crushed and ripped in two! Nine months after my accident, I was back on a brand new bicycle. Nine months after the accident, the coach of the towns girls' softball team invited me to come play with them, so I did. I had 10 successful years of playing softball. Less than 7 years after my accident, I gave birth to my first child, Leon. I carried him full term, but was unable to have a natural childbirth, he was taken by emergency ceserean.
This is why, 27 years later, I am diagnosed with the many issues that I have been diagnosed with. O, and so you know, I spent ten successful years behind the wheel of a semi as my profession! We never did find the truck or the driver who hit me. He fled from the scene of the accident and left me lay for dead. Sad, but true! As I sit and write this blog for the rest of the world to see, memories and flash backs bring back a lot of emotional pain, but it also takes me to the most grateful feeling a person could ever have! My Lord has blessed me with a normal and full life, I can not and will not complain about any of it. Instead, I will hold on and cherish what my life has become until the day I die. I would be lying if I told you that none of this ever bothers me, because it does. I still cry, I still get angry, I still get weak, and at times, I still give up. But I have my Lord and my Family to whom I am grateful for, for keeping my head afloat, even when my chin has dropped to my chest and my face drownding in my own tears.
Thank You Lord for Blessing my life the way you have! I know that your blessings will continue to shine, and when I am the weakest, I know that it is then, that you carry me! You are my life line and I could never ask for more! AMEN!
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