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I remarried soon after my husband of 20 years left us. Our blended family had 8 children between the ages of 12 & 18. We had many unresolved problems and didn’t have enough money to buy gasoline to drive cars to work. So, at age 40, I learned to ride a motorcycle.

When everyone was home our driveway and yard were filled with an assortment of old cars, a truck and 3 motorcycles.

My son joined the army, and while stationed in Europe he achieved 2 years of college credits, through study and testing. He also played golf, winning so many tournaments that the army sent him to Maryland to play on the army team, in the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine, Coast Guard international golf tournament, at Ft. Meade.

I was so proud of my son I just had to go see him. But our budget demanded that we take the little red Suzuki 450 from central Florida to Maryland, pack our own food, and camp along the way.

Before we left, we asked our church friends to pray for us. I knew that 2 women on a small motorcycle would need the protection of God to make a trip like that. (I had never been on a motorcycle on the Interstate highways or in a large city).

To the natural mind, that kind of a trip was foolish. But I wanted to support my son and show him how much I loved him, while depending on God to provide the protection needed.

So, with His help, my daughter and I enjoyed a trip we can talk about for the rest of our lives.

But I didn’t know how dangerous that motorcycle trip would be!

Before we had left the driveway, the bike fell over under of the load of tents and camping equipment tied to it.

When we stopped to eat, after we crossed the Georgia state line, my tuna sandwich seemed fizzy. Gasoline had soaked our food when the motorcycle fell. Later a thunderstorm soaked us!

My daughter and I still had fun camping. But on the beltway around Washington D.C. in rush hour traffic, our rear tire blew out.

I screamed, “Mary, stop wiggling!”

Then, realizing what happened, I changed my scream to: “Mary, when I say so, put your feet down same time that I do!”

Somehow, we safely made it to the grass. Help came, the bike was repaired, and we got to my son’s army base; but, unknown to me, the mechanic had forgotten to replace the cotter pin!

After enjoying a wonderful reunion with my son, we headed home.

On a narrow bridge to Virginia, the rear brake rod fractured because of the missing pin. First the brake locked, causing a 55 miles per hour skid. Then the brake rod snapped in two. The rod was dragging on the concrete, making a terrible noise.

Using only the front brake would be dangerous at that speed. I quickly learned to downshift and brought the bike safely across the bridge. I got out my tools and removed the broken pieces. We rode. carefully, as I only had the front brake, to a rest stop to get help.

By now my whole priority system had changed. I told God that I wouldn’t complain about anything. I just wanted to get home alive.

I believe we made it through the crises safely because of the prayers for us. There probably were many angels around, protecting us too.

The accidents and obvious supernatural protection also showed my daughter that there is a God and He was the reason we survived.

So, whenever God nudges you to pray for anyone, for their safety, their health, their relationships, or their finances, don’t put it off. God hears all our prayers and you may even see the results (the fruit) of your prayers.

God IS Love, so, think about it:                                                                                                       You are showing how much you care by                                                                                 “hugging them with your prayers”.

“Happy Heart”

 A stranger was crying at my mother’s funeral.

“What’s your name?” I asked her. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. Did you work with my mom?”

She said, “Oh, I never knew your mother, I went to the wrong funeral.” Shocked, I asked, “Why did you stay?”

“A patient of mine died and I thought this was his funeral. By the time I realized my mistake I decided to stay, since I usually attend daily Mass anyway.”

The stranger sobbed openly as she continued, “I am crying because of what you shared about your mom. I hope someday my daughter will say that about me.” Then she hugged me and walked away, leaving me with a tear-soaked shoulder and a priceless memory. God used my mom’s death to bring hope to this brokenhearted woman.

When the priest had asked my brother and I to say something about our mom, I told the happy ending of the following story; and realized again that the last six years of my mother’s life were an incredible miracle! The first 75 years were a different story.

Mom was well known by the police, cab drivers, probation officer, jailers, the judge and the muggers. Alcoholism had her wandering the streets. The collection of grocery carts in her front yard testified to her “disease.” However, her life of torment was about to be changed.

A spark of hope rose in me when the social worker called, saying, “Your mother was beaten by a purse snatcher again last night. I need you to meet me at her house today.”

Mom was caught in the “revolving door” of the legal system. She would get drunk, get arrested, go to jail, get bailed out by her “enabling” friends, then go to court, or forget to go to court, get arrested again for not showing up in court, or breaking probation, back to jail, out again, celebrate with a drink……!

When the social worker and I arrived at Mom’s house, we found her covered with scratches and bruises, drinking a cold beer. Her sofa reeked of urine and we were surrounded with spilled peanuts, cigarettes, dirty clothes, moldy dishes, and piles of partially opened mail.

Because Mom was hurting from the beating, she agreed to go to the hospital. I thanked God for a good social worker. She was able to get Mom admitted even though her identification had been stolen.

During that nightmarish season, I hated to answer the phone. Would it be the police? The hospital? Perhaps it would be one of her drinking buddies.  They often accused me of being a bad daughter. “What kind of a daughter are you?” “I’ll tell the newspaper and the TV news to do a story on how you think you are so holy, and yet you don’t help your mother.”

On one occasion, my mother was found unconscious on a barroom floor. The paramedics called and asked permission to “Baker Act” Mom, a 3-day mandatory hospital stay, after which the patient is free again. A CAT scan showed that her brain was atrophied. There was liquid where part of her brain used to be. Three days later, she was back in the saloon.

How could this 73-year old senile, demented, “wet-brained” widow be clever enough to convince judges to release her? How could she routinely take cabs without paying? How could she con the police and outwit her neighbors and her family?

The CAT scan proved that mom did not have the capacity to be so clever. There was too much brain damage. Some say the “disease” is talking, but the Bible explains it better. Diseases cannot talk but demons can. This understanding from the Bible gave me “peace that passes understanding.” No matter what I heard come from her mouth, I knew I was not battling “flesh and blood, but powers and principalities,” i.e. demons. I wish I had known this when I was young. I always thought it was mom talking, and so much she said hurt me. Knowing this Biblical truth now gave me the strength to apply the principle of “tough love.”

Because of the laws in our state, there was no way to protect mom from being victimized again by muggers. I had to prove she was incompetent and have a professional guardian assigned by the court. Then she could be kept safe.

Mom already had such a bad reputation throughout the local court system that no guardian wanted her. We kept praying, and God provided a young, newly trained guardian who accepted the challenge.

The next eighteen months were like a senile soap opera. Mom had also dabbled in the occult, so she was violent, strong, and demented. This ungodly combination kept her in maximum security whenever she was in jail.

After one of her arrests mom was hospitalized to dry out. When I got there, I was met with another gross scene. Mom ate like an animal, plopping her face into a plate of food. Her fingernails were so long that they curled back toward her palms like claws. Could she go down any further? Where was the bottom for my mom?

Before she was released, I started cleaning her house. The court had appointed me temporary guardian with the authority to take care of her affairs.

It was obvious that she had not attempted to clean for years. Stiff, greasy, smelly clothes were piled in both bedrooms. The bathtub and sink had not been used for a long time. Her dishes and cookware were covered with cobwebs, mold, ashes and dust, and were stuffed into every available space. Evidence of small fires from forgotten cigarettes was everywhere.

Although cockroaches thought this was paradise, for me it was hell. I fumigated the place and slept at a motel that night.

After salvaging family pictures and a few sentimental items, I hired a professional cleaning crew. I rented her an apartment in a beautiful retirement complex that had good nursing staff, security and food, and I moved in her belongings. When she was released from the hospital, she was taken to her new home, with her pictures and furniture all in place and food in her refrigerator. She said she liked it. Everything was different except mom’s behavior. She was still borrowing, still conning, still drinking! Soon we were back in court to have her declared legally incompetent.

The atmosphere was strained in the little waiting room across from the Judge’s chambers. Mom’s “buddy” who always called and yelled at me was there. My brother, the cleaning team, mom’s nurse, the social worker and the attorneys were also on hand. Mom had no idea what this was all about.

The devil worried me with thoughts like, “How could you love your mother and take her to court to have her rights removed?”

My brother and I sat together at an impressively long table in the judge’s chambers across from my mother and her lawyer. Witnesses were called in, one at a time.

The nurse from mother’s new residence testified about mom’s health needs, and alcoholism. The psychiatrist told of the hopelessness of her mental condition. The cleaners described the condition of her house. I was silent.

Mom kept tugging on her attorney’s arm. She wanted to talk to the judge, but her attorney knew that if she opened her mouth, the case would be lost. He kept saying, “Be quiet.”

Finally, she had her way, and told the judge, “Well, certainly, I would be insane to even consider taking a drink. That is why I don’t drink anymore, and haven’t for a long time.” Such an obvious contradiction of previous evidence caused the judge to slowly begin marking on a paper. Then he read: “M____, your right to travel has been removed…your right to handle money has been removed…your right to vote has been removed,” etc.

It was an awesome experience, and the seriousness of what we were doing almost overwhelmed me, but nothing had prepared me for my mother’s response. When we were dismissed, she hugged me and said, “I am so happy that you love me so much that you would do this for me.” Either she had no idea what was happening, or God had helped her realize that this was all for her own welfare.

Now court would make her remain where she would be safe. The new guardian took over where I left off. She sold mom’s house, paid her bills, and set up a trust that would continue to take care of mom and her needs the rest of her life.

Having a guardian had many fringe benefits. She took mom to the doctor, made her get her hair done, took her shopping and tried to keep her from buying booze. Mom no longer considered me the ‘enemy’, and complained to me, on my visits, how mean that ‘witch’ was.

The courts placed my mother in a rehabilitation program, but two weeks later, the rehab center kicked her out because she had been attacking other patients.

After several failed attempts to help her, the court put her in a psychiatric hospital. I found her in a room filled with grotesque sounds and smells. Other patients were strapped into chairs. Yet, while here, I received an amazing insight.

As I sat in mom’s room, she started to sing. I asked her what the song was. “Why, that’s the lullaby I sang to you when you were a baby, and my mother sang it to me.”

I wrote down these words as she sang it again.

“You made me what I am today,

I hope you’re satisfied.

You pulled and pulled and pulled me down

Until the hope within me died.

You shattered each and every dream,

You fooled me from the start.

So it’s not true, may God bless you,

It’s the curse of an aching heart.”

Wow. All the way home I praised the Lord for showing me the root of the curse of misery that has plagued our family. Now I understood why mom was always happiest when I was down. So many things made sense now. I could remember the many family picnics where the relatives would play the game, “Can you top this”, as they tried to outdo each other with tales of misery in their own lives.

We were getting ready for a month-long missionary trip to Nigeria, West Africa, when mom’s guardian called.

“Your mom fell and fractured her hip. The doctor will operate today, but they don’t know if she will survive the surgery.”

The surgery went well, but the procedure adversely affected her brain. She no longer knew me. Now totally demented, she thought she was hanging wallpaper. I knew the trauma of broken bones in the elderly causes severe mental setbacks because the brain’s capillaries get clogged with fatty deposits released from the fracture site. It was difficult leaving her in this condition, but we prayed for her and left for Nigeria.

One month later when I saw her she told me about her daughter, Nancy. She still had no idea who I was!

Several visits later she complained of a tummy-ache. I asked, “Mom, do you want me to pray for your tummy?”

When she said, “Yes,” I put my hand on her abdomen, and prayed, “Jesus, heal my mothers tummy.”

I could hear God say, “Now, you pray for her heart.”

Following the leading of the Holy Spirit, I laid my hand over my mother’s heart and prayed, “Jesus, give my mom a happy heart.”

She looked at me, and speaking like a little girl, she said, “You sure talk pretty.”

Then she folded her hands, looked up toward heaven, and said, “Jesus, now I’m ready, take all of me.”

Peace was on her face when I left that day, and I thanked God because my prayers were finally answered. However, God had another surprise for me.

Two weeks later, her guardian called.

“Nancy, what happened to your mother? At first we thought she had a stroke, because she was laughing all the time. She is so happy now. Can you tell me what happened?”

I shared the testimony of my time of prayer with her, and that Jesus had given her a happy heart. Then I jumped into my car.

When I walked through Mom’s door she said, “Nancy, where have you been for so long?”

She remembered who I was! Incredible! Jesus gave her a happy heart and restored her brain!

The Bible says that a happy heart does good like a medicine, and a crushed spirit dries up the bones. Mom now had a happy heart, which everyone could see in her sweet countenance. She remained cheerful and became very gracious and polite. Other residents, who did not know her before, commented that mom must have been a well-bred woman because she had such good manners.

Mom seemed to get younger. She was no longer confused, so the staff took her out of restraints and put her bed rails down. She started to feed herself, learned to use her right hand again, got out of her wheelchair, walked with a walker, and started using the toilet again. She remembered the grandchildren who visited, and got to meet some new great-grandchildren. She was even able to enjoy the videos of our missionary trips.

The Bible says that anger, jealousy and wrath dry up the bones. Her bones were no longer dry. The good medicine, the happy heart that Jesus gave her, was restoring her bones, and the improved blood supply was repairing her damaged body and brain.

The staff loved her, calling her the Ha-ha lady. She became their favorite patient.

She told me every time I saw her, “Everyone is so nice to me here.’ ‘I am so happy here.” “I really love you, Nancy.”

After waiting and praying for so many years, I finally had a mother again.

Recently a nursing home staff member said, “I remember your mom when she first came here. We all would run for cover because she was so mean. Now she is always happy.”

The social director told me that it is neat to know the background of a patient and see prayers answered. The staff saw what God could do in a “hopeless” case.

They know that Jesus gave my mom a happy heart, juicy bones, a better life, and healed relationships.

I shared the highlights of this story at the funeral, stating that mom had had some hard times that caused her bones to dry up. Then I focused on the “Happy Heart” prayer and the miracle that followed.

The stranger at the wrong funeral was not there by mistake. God loved her too, and allowed her to get there so she could hear this message of hope.

© 2003 Nancy Ball/Weber

Recently I noticed that there seems to be a theme of change in my choice of painting subjects. What I produced matched my emotional state/mood at that time.

Let me explain. The painting below, circa 1989. Those were bleak years (not on the surface, but inside me).

Only “the grace of God” and my passionate desire to serve Him and trust Him to heal the damage from terrible decisions I had made, got me through those years.

Then, after a time of turmoil, I realized I would be leaving Florida, (home for 35 years). So, I painted the sun as I watched it, and the life I had known, disappear.

The sunset seems to represent an ending, and the turbulent sky?? – maybe the scary unknown that lay ahead of me.

During this ‘season’ I received a letter from Russia. Anastasia sent it, and it is posted earlier on my blog. After her encouraging letter I put a small sign on my refrigerator.

“DON’T EVER GIVE UP”. It is still there – for many reasons!

Love returned to my life in 2003, and we married. We discovered that life can have new beginnings at any age. The prevailing theme of our lives was “a new Dawn”. Sunrises reminded us that every day God gives us another new beginning. But I only had 12.5 years with him.

This was done in acrylics, not oils. The view was from balcony of where we often stayed. I grew up near Lake Michigan, and, for me, time near the water has always been a time of healing and/or growing.

Now I’m 79, and I’ve lived and loved and learned. Change and seasons of love and loss are inevitable.

But, what I never expected was that Love would find me again. This old lady is enjoying life again; rich with new friends, blessed with more travels, and wrapped up with love for/from a precious man that I met at church. We’ve been married just over a year.

In this special ‘season’ where I am now considered ‘elderly’, I often think more about heaven and life beyond living here in our ‘earthen vessels’. …because, there is one love I have had my whole life….and His name is Jesus.After watching the movie “I CAN ONLY IMAGINE”, I also discovered an awesome painting by Kerolos Safwat, called “First Day in Heaven”.

The first 3 paintings referenced above had been on a shelf or in boxes for many years. A few months ago, while “nesting” and resettling into my new life, I put the paintings up – on the same wall!

Only then did I notice that each one uniquely represented my mood at the time.

We often hear that the fruit we produce is evidence of what is in our heart.

Suddenly I ‘saw’ that each one quite accurately depicted how I was feeling – though I didn’t realize it at the time.

Matthew 7:16-18 By their fruits you will know them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Just so, every good tree bears good fruit, and a rotten tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a rotten tree bear good fruit.

The ‘fruit’ isn’t necessarily obvious like a painting. It could be words we use or our body language. Maybe it’s aggressive driving or avoiding a healthy lifestyle.

I hope that what I shared might help others to notice the fruit they are producing and ask for help, if help is needed. Or pray and pray some more. Or just hang on, because someone who loves you is praying for you.

Take time to “see” your fruit. Or listen when someone provides their “observation” of your good or bad fruit (compliments or criticisms). And take time to savor the joy of learning, changing and growing.

Philippians 4:7  And the peace of God [that peace which reassures the heart, [that peace] which transcends all understanding, [that peace which] stands guard over your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus [is yours]. 

And may the Lord fill your life with “the peace that passes understanding” – always.

Nancy

Sometimes, when we are faced with a long-term situation that looks hopeless, our emotions shut down. Professionals are also trained to remain “detached” in order to maintain the ability to make necessary decisions without emotional interference.

After three years of struggling with falls, dementia, falls, illnesses, falls, infections, falls, and too many 911 calls, my husband was losing ground quickly. My own health, stamina, and emotional stability were also in peril.

Everywhere I turned I was told the same thing.

“If you continue to try to be his caregiver, even with help, your chances of not surviving as long as him are 30%.”

During this season of The Long Goodbye, I had been seeking help for myself also. But the support groups, many counselors, and several books were pointing me in ONE direction.

MEMORY CARE!!!

One nurse who was helping us at home told me a new assisted living facility was opening just 2 miles away. She convinced me to check it out.

So I did. And I was very impressed, with the layout and with the staff. Soon I was attending a support group there, and took Bob for an evening of dinner and piano music. He said it reminded him of being on a cruise ship.

I felt encouraged.

I also was experiencing a HUGE struggle with guilt.

“How can you even think of placing the man you love in a memory care unit – no matter how nice it is!!!!”

            Those thoughts haunted me, but I had, by then, lost my ability to cry, laugh, or feel anything except weak, tired, and exhausted. Two hours at a time of sleep or naps was all I could manage then, even with 17 hours a day of in-home CNA help. (Certified Nursing Assistant)

So, with all the guidance pointing to only one “solution” for his safety and quality of care, and to maintain my own health and sanity, I stoically resolved to reserve a room for him.

Then, hounded with a feeling of sneakiness, I gathered Bob’s clothes, toiletries, several of his paintings, a model ship he made, and some of his favorite snacks and beverages, and everything else needed to make his room feel like home, and fixed his new dwelling place the best I could.

But, two days before his moving date, my doorbell rang. Two of my granddaughters asked if they could please come in and talk to me.

I had no idea what was on their minds.

These precious high-school seniors took the time to lovingly and boldly confront their grandma – hoping to keep me from making a decision that “I would regret the rest of my life”.

They both shared with me how much they had grown to love Bob (Bob and I had met at a widow/widows dinner at church 12 years ago). They offered to help me with anything I needed if I kept him home. Convinced that I was about to do something horrible, they wanted to prevent me from making this terrible mistake.

When I heard their passionate plea, my first response was to defend my decision with facts from my counselors, etc.

But, as I began to state my case, something changed deep within me. I started to weep, then cry, then sob – almost hysterically.

For the first time in more than a year, I was feeling emotional. Grief, sadness, more grief, more sadness, and the deep passionate love that I had for that wonderful man was no longer shrouded in denial (or whatever the defense mechanism was).

After this beautiful hour of honesty, I hugged my girls’ girls, (my daughters’ daughters), and they left.

But, even tho my emotions were restored that day, I still believed that I had to follow through with moving my husband to the facility–at least for a test period (which is what the facility called the first month).

The day for moving arrived. Bob allowed me to lead him to the car, and along with his daytime caregiver, we went through with the move.

I must say, Bob was very “brave”. He seemed to accept his situation, and was sitting in his new room and watching a familiar movie on his TV when I hugged him one more time, and left.

When I returned home, to my peaceful empty house, I fell apart. Sprawled on the sofa I cried and cried. For two hours I wailed and cried and prayed and cried and cried some more.

Then I thought, “Why should I live like a widow when the man I love is alive and just down the road?”

So, I called the facility and said I was returning to bring him back home. (My pastor, Father Tom, had counseled me to ‘follow my heart’. Finally — I was.)

When I walked into his room just over two hours after I took him there, we fell into each other’s arms like two young lovers would after a long separation.

We returned home.

My grandson, and granddaughters helped me pack up the furniture, lamps, and personal items and bring them back.

Five months later, when Bob saw the hospice people setting up a bed and observed me signing papers, he took my hand and said, “I’m dying, aren’t I?”

I responded gently, “Honey, this time you will not recover”.

He was sick with the third bad infection in 4 weeks & was septic.

Well, this man then said, “Nancy, I am so sorry.”

He was apologizing for leaving me. He had struggled so hard for over 3.5 years to recover again and again because of his desire to “take care of me”.

Yet, his dying statement to me was an apology. After that his conversations were with God Himself.

Four days later, 2 years and 2 months ago, he went to heaven as I held his hand.

And God has helped me with regaining my health, and I am enjoying a happy life again with some amazingly wonderful new friends

So, what is the point of this story?

If you are a young person, and you might think that you do not have enough life experience or wisdom to tell an older family member what is on your heart, I want to encourage you to prayerfully follow through and lovingly say what you need to say – then leave the rest to God.

And, if you are the grandparent, and a grandchild has the courage, love, and boldness to confront you about something serious, please realize that God can use him or her to help keep you on the right path.

Or, as we so often hear, “If the shoe fits, wear it”. Maybe this message is for you, even if you are not a grand ‘something’. God still can surprise you by placing someone on your path to help you along in the way you should go.

From 1Corinthians, Chapter 13, St. Paul wrote: Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, [love] is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails…………So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

I arrived at the Lake Mirror Civic Center one hour before race time, planning my strategy. Four years ago I ran so slow that they didn’t even keep the streets closed for me. This time I felt I was in good form for the event. There was an air of pride in my voice as I stated how I would hold my speed in check at the beginning, and gradually increase my speed for the last three miles.

The day was hot and sunny. The starting time was 8:30 a.m. and we were to run on the streets around three lakes. My shoes were new, and ordinarily I run on grass in the early morning when it’s cooler.

The race was dedicated to the glory of God, and I was feeling confident as I approached the starting line. A JOGGING FOR JESUS logo was on my shirt, and I really felt the presence of the Holy Spirit that morning.

The race started, and so did the harassment from the devil. Less than one-third way around Lake Mirror “it” happened. A little old lady with curly white hair and skinny legs passed me! That provided satan with his first opening—pride. I started getting thoughts like – “You can’t let a 60 year old woman pass you up like that, you must have started too slow, so why don’t you try to pass her up?”

I started running faster. And I couldn’t catch up with her! At the first mile the timer called out 10 minutes and 36 seconds and I knew then that I had been running too fast. But I was still allowing myself to be prodded by pride and continued to try to catch up with my “adversary.”

At the two-mile mark my pace was still too fast, and I was in trouble. A quick check showed my pulse to be near 180 beats per minute. (I often run it up that far, but with four miles to go that was too high.) Again the devil fired – “Now you’ve done it. You won’t be able to finish this race. See what you did? You blew it trying to run so fast.”

I started to think (finally)! “If Jesus can help and heal others, then He will heal me of this problem if I ask Him.” The first thing I did was approach the Lord in prayer and I confessed my sins. One sin was my pride at the beginning of the race. Then I told the “enemy” to get off my case. After that I promised to give God all the glory, and would He please slow down my pulse so I could finish the race?

He touched me and returned my heartbeat to a safe rate. Praise the Lord-Jesus made this possible!

The next two miles were hot and uneventful. Lake Hollingsworth was beautiful, and I enjoyed watching the scenery and praying. A wet sponge was handed to me. I saw another runner squeeze it over the back of his neck, so I did the same. I was refreshed, but apparently not soon enough. The early warning signs of heatstroke were upon me. My body stopped sweating and my face was dry.

The “accuser” tried again – “It’s too hot for you, your head is going to hurt all day, you can only run when it’s cooler, you’re too old for this, don’t be so foolish.”

I said, “In the name of Jesus Christ, Go! I won’t listen to you.” Then I called on my Lord Jesus again to heal me. I simply asked Him to make my body sweat again so I could finish the race and glorify His name.

Immediately sweat started running down my face and body.

That was the second miracle! I just praised the Lord and kept running.

I knew that I was running in this race for a purpose; and although I wasn’t sure what that purpose was yet, I was quickly catching on!

Before the five-mile mark my legs suddenly felt peculiar. The fronts of my shins had sharp pains zipping up and down them like electric shocks. The devil quickly jumped on this circumstance and reminded me – “you’re not running on grass and you have new shoes on, and besides you’re too old, so why don’t you just quit now and walk in down those back streets. No one will ever know you didn’t finish.”

By this time my Faith was soaring and I told the demon he was a liar and couldn’t tempt me to quit because Jesus would heal me.

Then I asked for the third miracle! “Lord, I know You have come to my rescue twice already today. Please heal my shins so I can finish this race for Your glory.” (At this point the pain disappeared suddenly and completely and never has returned.) Praise The Lord!

Running became a joy! I was able to start passing other runners. I grinned at the policeman who was at each corner (the same one moved along with us slow runners and kept the cars from hitting us.) By the time I was within sight of Lake Mirror, I was singly fairly loudly, “They that wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength. They shall mount up on wings as eagles. They shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Teach me Lord, teach me Lord, to wait” (from Isaiah 40:31).

I was able to sprint the last quarter mile to the finish effortlessly. WOW! The 40-50 age group had six women entered and I finished 6th, but that didn’t matter. For me the race was run for a very different purpose.

P.S. Victory is only a prayer away! Jesus is alive! Pain, doubt, fear, infirmities, and defeating ‘attitudes’ can be overcome by the Blood of the Lamb! By His stripes we were healed! Praise the Lord! He is merciful, loving, forgiving, and always close when we reach out to Him.

Our journey through life will also take us to the finish line also, and to eternity with Jesus.  He knows what all our needs are and will guide and direct us to the Father.

Bad Dogs and Proverbs

Each morning I share a scripture verse, via a text message, with my grandchildren, and others.  This started after one granddaughter had asked me to be her Confirmation sponsor. So to follow-up on my responsibility, I started sending her daily Scriptures. This routine gradually grew to include all my grandkids.

Recently God showed me He had more plans than just inspiring others. When I was out for a walk in our neighborhood, I had a terrifying experience!

Two growling, snarling, snapping dogs came charging toward me. They were galloping full speed, even bumping into each other as each one tried to get to me first.

Dogs have never frightened me. But this day was different. They were totally out of control. So I stopped walking and stood there shouting, “STAY!” “STAY!” “STAYYYYY!”

After the third “stay” they stopped, just 24 inches from me. As I stared at them, the owner called them back home. We live in a neighborhood with a “leash law” and loose dogs are not allowed.

As I passed the front of their house, the owner was slipping into the front door with his dogs, and his wife was outside, reading a book on a rocking chair. I was still not over the horrible fright, and they were both pretending they didn’t see me, so I spoke up.

“I have never before in my whole life been frightened by dogs. But when your dogs came running toward me growling and snarling and snapping, I was scared.”

He spun around, lit a cigarette, and yelled at me that I should not have been in his yard – that they were just protecting their territory!

I responded, “But I was just walking down the street, not in your yard.”

The conversation quickly deteriorated, as he kept saying his dogs would not harm me. But how was I to know that! And when I reminded him that dogs are not allowed loose in our subdivision, he told me he had a fenced back yard, but his daughter had accidentally let them out.

Since this was going nowhere, I made sure they knew, as I walked away, that I would report this incident.

But when I returned home, I realized that I had not yet sent my Scripture inspiration to my family. So I sat down and looked up the next Proverb to send. It was:

Proverbs 19:11,

“It is good sense to be slow to anger, and an honor to overlook an offense.”

So what was I to do? Just what the Bible told me to do that day. Overlook the offense. God used my desire to influence my family to help me keep a Christian attitude.

I am changed forever…..A Tribute to Jesus and Bob.

The following letter came from a young woman in Ufa, Russia. I had been feeling especially sorry for myself. As a lonely widow, I wondered if the years I spent as a missionary really had made a difference in other people’s lives. God heard my tearful prayer. He knew that I needed encouragement, and I discovered that He could inspire a young woman halfway around the world to write to me.

God’s timing was perfect, and over the next 7 years, He gently led me on a new journey where I met, and married an awesome, loving, & amazing man. 

I know that God sent Bob into my life to fulfill the prophecy in Anastasia’s last paragraph.

This is the letter, exactly as she wrote it.

“Dear Nancy,

It is a privilege for me to write you. And my heart is full of love to you. My letter is the letter of thankfulness and gratitude, because:

I’m your fruit!

       I want to say “Thank you”, that you hear the voice of God and do the works of God. You were the first who told me about Jesus. I have being seeking Jesus from my childhood. But Russian people couldn’t tell me about Jesus, and God used you to come to Russia and said to me about the Kingdom of God.

I want to tell you my story. In May 1992, my mummy read the newspaper and told me about the Crusade in our town. I said, “Yes, we would go there!” And we came. God touched me in a moment there and I devoted my life to the Lord. I went every day – morning and evening from 19th to 23 of May and I was impressed by the reality of Jesus.

Now I’m 19 years old. I study at the very prestige college in my republic. All my life is blessed. My parents are Christians.

God gave me wonderful ministry – praise and worship. More than 5 years I live with God and I can say “I’m the happiest in the world.”

You prayed for me for baptizing in the Holy Spirit. And God baptized me in the Holy Spirit and in His fire.

Nancy! You are so beautiful, pretty, nice-looking, tender lady. You just smiled to me and embraced me, in that time God showed me His great love through you. I was simply for you to do it, but I saw God through you. Thank you!

I bless you in the name of Jesus; all your life, your family, your church, your ministry, your every day, your future.

May God keep you in His embrace. Paul wrote to Timothy “my true child in the faith” (1Tim.1:2). But I want to say “to my true spiritual mummy in faith.” God says to you: “I am your God and will take care of you until you are old and your hair is grey. I made you and will care for you; I will give you help and rescue you” (Isa.46:4).*

P.S.  Sorry for my mistakes in English, I’m just learning.

In love, Anastasia”

*from Nancy: Now I am old and my hair is grey and God is taking care of me and He did rescue me. More than once. My hero, in the flesh, was my awesome husband, Bob, who was willing to be the hands of Jesus in my life.

Appalachian Trail
A Journey of Joy

The mountains were beautiful that day. My desire to hike to the top of Bald Mountain was stronger than my desire for safety: I went on the six-mile trek alone.

In my pocket was a Jesus Pocket Promise Book, and on my shoulder, a camera.

I had been up this path many times, but that day I decided to follow a different route to the Appalachian Trail, so I detoured left through the forest. Along the way I remembered that sometimes days went by without a single person hiking on this “detour”

Soon I realized that I was no longer climbing, but going downhill. In horror, I discovered that I had taken a wrong turn, and was too out of breath to climb back uphill. Returning to where I got lost seemed impossible.

Fear gripped my heart as I saw thousands of bees waiting to bite me if I decided to sit and rest. With my heart skipping beats, I stood for a moment wondering what to do. The thoughts in my head tried to convince me that if I walked uphill again I would have a heart attack and if I sat with the bees, they would sting me.

I paged through the bible verses as I rested on a rock. God told me to memorize Isaiah 41:10.

Do not fear for I am with you, do not look anxiously about you for I am your God. I will help you. Surely I will uphold you, surely I will lift you up with my righteous right hand.

So I spent some time in prayer and memorized that Bible verse. Peace and confidence overcame the fear. With the fresh ammunition (quoting the scripture) and the bad thoughts defeated, I trotted back uphill and out of the forest loudly proclaiming God’s word.

Someday if you find yourself surrounded with bees (or other threats) or  dangerous pathways, quote the Scriptures in the face of evil and fear, and enjoy your journey of joy.

HAZEL THE BEAR

    Hazel was a mean bear. The radio announcer said the tourists at xxxxx Gardens were hiding in the gift shop because the she had escaped.
We hopped on our motorcycles and raced the 35 miles to our tourist attraction. In the sky was a helicopter, and the parking lot held television news crews, the law, and some onlookers.
The next morning the jungle was alive with bear hunters and their dogs. For 3 days, the hunt went on. I called our local Christian radio for prayer. The next day Hazel was caught and returned to her cage. Then an officer, who was trying to get even with my husband for an incident with monkeys years back, arrested him, in front of the TV camera.

Fear gripped my heart. We were newlyweds with eight teenagers and my husband was involved in a Chapter 11 bankruptcy. We did not need trouble like this.
As we were waiting for our day in court I learned how to trust God in an overwhelming situation. I went to a prayer meeting where Psalm 37 was explained. From the word of God, I was told not to worry, that the words from the mouth of the accuser would turn back on him and pierce his own heart.
I believed the Bible and went to court with peace inside and a smile on my face. Two hours later, the judge acquitted my husband. The state’s witness was trapped in his own lies and my husband did not have to defend himself.
Before this experience, I had a problem trusting God, because my dad often broke his promises. After reading Psalm 37, and believing that God was speaking to me through that Scripture passage, I discovered that I could count on the Lord to bring us through tough situations.

Psalm 37

Do not be provoked by evildoers;
do not envy those who do wrong.
Like grass they wither quickly;
like green plants they wilt away.
Trust in the LORD and do good
that you may dwell in the land and live secure.
Find your delight in the LORD
who will give you your heart’s desire.
Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will act
And make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
your justice like noonday.
Be still before the LORD;
wait for him.
Do not be provoked by the prosperous,
nor by malicious schemers.
Refrain from anger; abandon wrath;
do not be provoked; it brings only harm.
Those who do evil will be cut off,
but those who wait for the LORD will inherit the earth.

RESCUER

Crisis intervention may be a highly developed skill in those of us who grew up in dysfunctional homes. You may have been the family member that tried to reduce the tension in your home by smoothing things over. You explained what mom really meant to your brother. Or you clarified what yourbrother meant to settle down your dad.
You are a good mediator.
Valuable skills were developed because of your continuing crisis intervention. You have many memories of playing the role of mediator when conflicts were getting out of hand.
As survivors of abusive families we can become very capable counselors, ministers, nurses, or psychologists. But our career choice may have been affected by a subconscious drive to fix everyone.
Problems develop, however, when we get to a point in life where we can no longer choose whether we will fix people or not. Eventually our own personalities become submerged under the mask that was developed as we coped with our painful family situations. That mask is a network of demonic counterfeits of our own true personality.
Fear of losing control rules this network.
Relationships and career choices are adversely affected because our decisions are based on these coping mechanisms instead of the influence of God. Therefore, we usually find ourselves experiencing the same situation that we despised in the first place.
So, become aware that your early childhood “masks” can set you up for demonic influence that will sabotage your happiness.
Your recovery begins when you forgive those who hurt you. Do it today and your journey will continue on a new path!

with Love from Jesus and grandma…

“Stop judging,^* that you may not be judged. For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” Matthew 7:1,2

PS:

If we haven’t forgiven those who caused turmoil in our own lives, we will be judged with the same standard we judged them. That is why we end up repeating the “sins of our ancestors”, why we often find ourselves doing the same things we criticized our parents for……

While researching material for my book, BEYOND SURVIVAL, I ran across another very small book with 5 little chapters in it, and I’d like to share it with you today. It describes so well what we go through in our search for recovery from past painful experiences.

Chapter 1.  I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost….I am hopeless. It isn’t my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter 2. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I am in the same place. But it isn’t my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

  Chapter 3. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in…. it’s a habit. My eyes are open. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter 4. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

Chapter 5. I walk down a different street.

Saint Paul wrote to the Philippians: “Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

Jesus can help us avoid the pitfalls of denial, if we stop blaming others for the holes we fall into. Jesus will take us down a new street.

This is grandma Nancy with insights for today sharing Jesus’ love for you.

“My Old Trombone”     

It smelled awful! So did she!

This pair would soon make melody.

Forlorn child, stranger to fun,

She stood, spitless, beneath this nun.

Nothing ever worked out right.

The birth of hope might be this night.

In her heart the turmoil reigns.

Music could release the chains.

They’ve held her until now,

with fears she will somehow

               never be

               happy and free…

But she (the nun) saw life through eyes that would

stir pity, “I’ll help her, I should.”

Sister Nan knew of her home

            and offered Joy an old trombone.

New tunes were played inside Joy’s house

That nun saw promise – not a louse.

The sounds of never-ending fights

            are hard to hear as Joy delights,

                            In finding there’s a way

                             to overcome dismay.

                                                Practice now

                                                so that somehow

                               there’ll be a glorious day.

Out of her shell and smelling sweet;

parades, concerts and lots of neat

events were now replacing strife.

            The old trombone gave her new life.

God sent that nun to start the child

on a new path that wasn’t wild.

Joy could have said, “It stinks! Not me!”

            And had a different history.

                                    But now you hear her voice

                                    Say, “God gave me a choice.

                                                Music made                              

                                                my own parade,

                                    And now I can rejoice.”

Happy Cows

One day, while riding home from a Women’s Aglow meeting with friends, we passed a dairy farm.

It was a hot Florida day, and I noticed that most of the cows were obviously cooling off in a small lake, with the water up to their udders.

I said, “Look at those happy cows!”

My friends started laughing. One said, “Nancy, how do you know those cows are happy?”

Sometimes we don’t realize it, but the eyes of our emotions can affect how we observe situations. When we are depressed we don’t often find humor around us.

After five months of sharing the Gospel around the world, and watching God transform the hearts and souls of thousands of people, I was still ‘high’.

My recent experience affected everything I saw. So that day, from the highway, I saw happy cows.

So often we judge others through the veil of what we are feeling. We can go through life seeing sad cows, angry cows, frustrated cows, passive cows, lustful cows, or happy cows.

If you are seeing life only as the evening news sees it, please do two things. Say a simple prayer… “Jesus, give me a happy heart”.

Number two…fill your heart with God’s word…let the Scriptures replace whatever has stolen your joy.

From Nancy, saying, “Jesus loves You”!

WHAT TO DO WHEN LIFE IS A LITTLE HARD TO SWALLOW…

When I wrote this book,

I thought I had a good understanding of the dynamics of addictive relationships.

There was so much more for me to learn.

Here is the rest of the story – the amazing adventures of a grateful grandma.

________________________________________________________

Dear grandchildren,

More than 20 years have passed since I wrote about my story in this book. My personal journey is summarized in the dedication poem I wrote to my children, “The Chinning Bar is in the Door.”

When Beyond Survival was first published, Jesus had not yet miraculously healed my mother. Therefore, in this edition the “Happy Heart” story is at the beginning, not the end.

But that was not the only amazing thing that God did. These last twenty or so years have been rich in life lessons. Now, that I am in my 70’s I hope I have gained some wisdom.

How do I tell you what else happened? Or share what I have since learned? Or describe what God has been teaching me?  How could God restore all the damage caused by denial?

The first half of the book is about life and God, as I understood it then. The rest of the story of God’s amazing love and His power to heal will be found starting in the middle of this book.

As was my original desire, I want to share my faith and life journey in order to bring you, and other readers, new hope.

I might be your grandmother, but I could be your neighbor, friend, or maybe I spoke in your church years ago.

But that isn’t important. The fact that God’s love can bring healing for any kind of wound is what really matters.

                                                                     Love is patient,

 Love is kind.

It is not jealous,

[love] is not pompous, it is not inflated,

 it is not rude,  it does not seek its own interests,

 it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury,

it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.

 It bears all things, believes all things,

hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

(1 Corinthians 13: 4-8)

_______________________________________________

My mother wrote the following poem on a Christmas card – maybe around 1979 or 1980 

A TOAST TO ‘NANCY’,

(An Image of faith, courage, and integrity)

How very proud we are of you –

We’ve always been; you know that’s true

You’ve braved your hurts, you still can smile

You’ve helped us see, your life’s worthwhile

You’ve suffered much, yet bore your grief

In such a way, one has belief-

In God’s great love, His saving grace

If we but pray, all cares erase

Throughout your years of smiles and tears

You’ve come this far in forty years

To show the world what you’re made of

For that I thank the Lord above

For all you’ve done – will always do

To pave the way – to see the “blue”

Thru problems that may lie ahead

Your faith and courage will help instead –

Of doubting, fearing and wondering “Why”

So many things can go awry

You’ll ‘hang-in-there’, you’ll see it thru

‘Cause best of all – dreams do come true

Oh! How I wish that Dad were here

To share this joy, to toast our cheer

Yet, we all know that surely he –

Is with us now, Shares heartfelt glee

So here’s to you, our daughter dear!

God be with you throughout this year!

But, because my mother was an alcoholic, I never knew what she would say next, and lived most of my life feeling very confused about my feelings about my mother.

“From me, right now, remember, Jesus Loves You!”