HIS HELP...

AND, AGAIN, A-MEN!

CONFIDENCE IN HIM

HE SAVED ME!

I AM AN EXTREMELY BLESSED

DAUGHTER OF THE LORD!

TRUSTING HIM IS ALL I SHOULD DO,

MOMENT-BY-MOMENT,

DAY-BY-DAY.

THAT'S MY GOAL.

IN HIS HAND...

FROM ISAIAH... MY "WILLING AND OBEDIENT" STORY

ISAIAH 1:19-20

 If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land;

 But if you refuse and rebel, you will be devoured by the sword. For the mouth of the Lord has spoken it.

====================

During the summer of 1970, while living in San Mateo, California, having been a Christian since April, 1966, and being obedient, the Lord truly broke into my life.  However, there was a difference, compared to what was anticipated in normal Christan ways.  I obeyed the Lord, if He laid something on me, because I knew I needed to do whatever was dropped in...but it usually didn't mean that I wasn't on alert, but frequently that I wasn't happy.  I still didn't consider the Lord as my Father, because my understanding of Fatherhood meant I had to be on alert all the time, and didn't expect to feel love, acceptance, or kindness from Him.

That summer, my spiritual Mom and Dad, John and Joyce Davis, were going to a retreat conference south of our area, and arranged for me and my daughter to be there for a night.  That was a real treat to be with so many special friends.

The main speaker, Bob Mumford, was quite funny, often, and talked a lot about the Isaiah Book.  I'd read the Bible, of course, but not been buried in the prophetic portion then, so learned much that weekend.

However, the Lord dropped one verse on me, and piled it into my heart over and over again.  I "numbered" it in my Bible...and have moved it forward from Bible to Bible all these years.  

This is it:

If you are (1) willing and (2) obedient...

The key is that, yes, as often as possible, I was obedient.  But I was still pretty frustrated with life in general, and "willing" wasn't part of my life.  This word got buried in me.  I could never ignore it ever again.

Did I change?  Not right away.  Tried, but kept getting so angry over things and so frustrated that, yes, I would obey, because I didn't want to get "spanked" too hard, but in so many ways my life might become more and more physically and emotionally dangerous, and I wasn't "willing".

Renae and Steve

In May, 1974, a miracle occurred.  Another story that would take too long to explain, but I and my two kids were quickly shifted from Redwood City, CA, to Omaha.  It truly was a miracle.  And in February, 1975, the Lord said a specific thing to me when a dear pastor/counselor friend had died.  The Lord said, "Now that I've taught you how to love and trust a man, I'll teach you how to love and trust Me."  And it immediately began, increased, and since then I've never seen Him as my "Boss" or "Controller"... but now as my Father Who loves His daughter.

 

Anyhow, it began at the retreat nearly 5 years earlier.  Didn't change the Isaiah process immediately, but the Lord tapped at me many times.  Then officially entered February, 39 years ago, quickly filled with "willingness"... and even though I'm filled with "willingness", I'm still filled with "obedience".  But, as the Word says, "If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land."

And, I'm showing the next verse, which is filled with seriousness.  "If you refuse and rebel...".  Well, I didn't want to get in trouble, since I had been rebellious from age 5 forward to 20, my heart was still intensely filled with anger and frustration.

Now, moment-by-moment, day-by-day, I am seeking the Lord's instructions and looking forward to serving, worshiping, and thanking Him.  I am truly "WILLING".

8 months after the Lord's breakthrough

My spiritual parents are in heaven ... and hopefully seeing my physical parents ... and I look forward to seeing all 4 of them.  Joyce and John entered my life quickly in May, 1969, and have never been forgotten.

And, have I been perfect?  NO!  Sinfulness breaks into me occasionally... but my Lord breaks into me with love, forgiveness, compassion, and a reminding/teaching form of how to break free.

Now the photos I shared are mostly my daughter at those ages, because reality will be shown.  Had nearly no photos of me in those years.  Renae was about 10 months old when at the retreat; the photo was taken in our apartment driveway at about that same age.  She was 5 years old when the Lord broke through my heart more deeply. The final photo was taken when she was just turning 6, and, believe me, my life had changed significantly.  Steve was 2.

And, just for fun, here's the newest of them. And I'm still worshiping, heart-filled to rejoice for my dear Heavenly Father.

FOREVERMORE!!

FROM HIS CHILDHOOD PHASE

TO HIS RESURRECTION,

WE ARE BLESSED ETERNALLY!

MY HEART IS FIXED

KNOWLEDGE OF THE LORD

PLEASANT BRETHREN

SUCH A BLESSING TO BE AT THEIR WEDDING.

AND TO BE WITH SAM'S BEST MAN

 AND A LONG-TIME FRIEND.

WE LOVED BOTH OF THEM.

WE DEARLY LOVED ADDIE WHEN WE MET HER A FEW DAYS EARLIER AS WE ARRIVED.

AND WE CONTINUALLY LOVE THEM 

AND OUR GRANDDAUGHTER.

A GREAT GODLY BLESSING POURED ON US.

STELLA IS 12 YEARS OLD NOW; MET HER WHEN SHE WAS 2.

HIGH PRIEST

THAT DAY I WAS WEAK,

FRUSTRATED,

ANGRY...

AND THE HIGH PRIEST FILLED MY HEART 

WITH JOY AND LOVE.

I CHANGED QUICKLY.

DARKNESS AND LIGHT

JOYFULNESS OVERWHELMS 

WHEN SPIRITUAL LIGHT DOES BURST.

MY FEET UPON A ROCK

 

YES, I'M A "ROCKY" PERSON.

AND TRUSTING THE LORD TO KEEP ME

OUT OF THE PITS AND THE MIRY CLAYS.

AND STEADYING MY STEPS.

ONLY HE CAN DO IT!! 

THE ANNIE PROJECT PROLOGUE

     "THE ANNIE PROJECT"

PROLOGUE

 A cool breeze swayed the cottonwood trees on the main street of Newton.  As the sun gradually drifted below the horizon and left behind a bright purple-red sky, kids and their parents walked home from Veterans Memorial Park, hand in hand.  Older boys squirreled around on their bikes.  A hot, humid Labor Day was behind them, and sweet iced tea or ice cream was waiting for them when they reached their homes.

Annie Tyler sat on her bed in her darkened bedroom and quietly cried.  At twelve, she had lived through more than most of the other kids in town could have imagined.  She had even thought she was making it OK.  This afternoon, though, she had lost hope.  Her mom and dad had always fought a lot, as long as she had known them.   Both of them were heavily into beer and doing drugs, and she had spent much of her time trying to make peace between them. Today, her dad had thrown his clothes in a duffle and filled a couple of boxes with DVDs and CDs and slammed out of the house.  She had run out behind him, crying, and had grabbed his arm, but he pushed her away.  He swore at her, got in his old rusted-out Chevy and ripped out from the front of the house so fast he whipped gravel, and pieces of the flying rocks hardly missed her face.

Annie rushed back to the house, wanting to see her mom and to find out what had happened.  Mom’s bedroom door was locked and she was screaming obscenities and throwing things around the room.  Annie could tell that her mom was drunk and wouldn’t talk to her until the next day.

Annie wandered into the kitchen, tears flowing, so filled with sadness she could hardly think about anything.  Even though Annie wasn’t hungry, she fixed a can of chicken noodle soup and took it back to her bedroom to eat.  She kicked a pathway through the clothes and other piles of stuff on the floor, and flopped on the bed nearly spilling her soup.

Annie thought about all the kids she knew from school, all the kids she’d be seeing the next day.   She dreaded seeing them, and although she said she hated them, in her heart she knew that, actually, she was jealous of them.  They didn’t have to be afraid to go home every day after school was out, wondering what they would find when they walked in the door.  She did!

She cried into her pillow.  “God, I keep hearing from people that you’re real, and that you care what happens to people like me.  Well, if you ARE real and if you DO care about me, bring my dad back, and make my mom and dad stop drinking.  If you can.” 

And as darkness fell over Newton, Annie, hugging her tear-stained pillow, fell asleep.

====================================

Cary Nolan stood beside the snow-covered grave.  A bright-blue sky and hazy sun belied the cold, frosty morning, and a brisk breeze cut through Cary’s fleece jacket and made her shiver.

“I’ve decided to move to Newton to be closer to the kids. I’ll be only four hours away from here, James,” she said, “which is actually closer to them than a lot of the time when you and I were together.”  She couldn’t help smiling at that thought.  It seemed she was always heading off for one place or another.  “I only wish I could be with you in heaven to watch your dreams come true.”

Cary and James had talked often about what the one might do without the other and how blessed the “leaver” would be.  Heaven had been in James’ heart for most of his life, so Cary was happy for him that he was finally Home.

However, Cary wasn’t very happy for herself.  She was now at loose ends.  James had died of a heart attack only two weeks earlier, just after Valentine’s Day.  The flowers were still scattered across the grave – irises, roses, and even a couple of gardenias were thrown into the mix simply because it was her favorite flower.  She reached down and picked up a browned and crushed gardenia, smelled its faint, but still recognizable, fragrance, and put the remnants in her pocket.

Cary was in the process of finding a house in Newton.  Mostly, she was leaving the choice up to her realtor.  Once Mary called her with the final three options, Cary would pop over to make the final decision, write the contract, and begin the moving process.  She had enough money from the insurance to buy a modest house and provide for her everyday needs.  She was very content, financially.

“Well, Lord,” Cary said, as she turned her car out of the lane from the cemetery and into the busy highway traffic, “I’m sure you know what’s ahead for me.  I want to be useful and a blessing in your Kingdom.  You’ve never abandoned me before, so, as hard as this is, I don’t expect you’ll do so now as I enter this new phase of life.”

==================

What Cary and Annie did not know was that they were going to be the answer to each other’s prayers.

==================

The photo is no longer the one that will be used.  An artist is working on it similarly, but not a true "me" picture, especially at that young age, instead of a few years further.  I'm  sharing the Prologue, because that truly begins the book. It won't be long before the book is published -- maybe two or three months.  Thank you for your encouragement.  Greatly appreciated.

HIS WAYS HIGHER THAN OURS

WORSHIPING, PRAISING...

WORSHIPING WITH NEW FRIENDS,

OLD FRIENDS,

ALL TOGETHER IN MOROCCO.

TRULY A BLESSING.

MERCY AND LOVINGKINDNESS

 HE'S GREATLY APPRECIATED!

LISTEN, CHILDREN...

AND THOSE KIDS ARE IN THEIR 

LATE 20S OR EARLY 30S NOW...

AND I TRULY HOPE THEY ARE SERVING OUR LORD, 

THEIR SPIRITUAL FATHER.

[AND NOW THEY MIGHT BE TEACHING THEIR OWN KIDS... 

AND THINKING ABOUT THAT FILLS ME WITH JOY.]

 

EVERLASTING STRENGTH

EVERYTHING SHOULD TRUST THE LORD.

THE ONLY WAY WE CAN EVERY MAKE IT IN THIS WORLD.

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TELL THE WORLD..

YES, SING HIS NAME.

SHARE IT,

OVER AND OVER AND OVER,

AROUND THE WORLD!

OUR GOD THE ROCK

DAD'S GOODNESS

 As described so many times in my stories, Dad was hard to live with.  Mostly a result of his alcoholism and toughness with jobs.  The result of having to move quite a number of times, because our family didn't fit into the social groups, my sisters and I were often filled with fear and anger and piles and piles of frustration. 

Until I was about 5, I don't recall any serious difficulty.   But just as I was turning 5, life changed.  Big Time!!

Graduated when 60 years old.

 Here's some of Dad's history that explains how he got turned around the wrong way.  One of my dad's tough issues, as was the case of many people, he wasn't able to finish school.  During the Great Depression's stretch of time for several years, he had to work, pull in whatever he could for food, etc., and ended school at 8th grade. 




He liked to read, but it wasn't what he should have read to grow stronger. Dad also was on the train with a cousin as hobos hopping on freight trains.  As a teen, he was going back and forth between Portland and Tacoma area, working sometimes, stealing sometimes.  Then, when WWII was hitting him, his life changed again, both for good or evil.

I remember a couple things that were heart-filling.  For me.  As I said, he wasn't always mean, but sure struggled.  I remember one of his jobs as a taxi driver.  He came home one night, stabbed.  The rider had refused to pay and knifed him.  He was able to get his arm fixed up, but he started taking a blackjack in his taxi so he could whack when threatened.  Then, his other jobs were connected to construction and lumbering.  He'd do really well for a while, and then the drunkness would kick in, and he'd lose the jobs.

When in Tacoma when he was sober, out of work, dealing with daughters, babysitting at home [Mom was working], and taking care of the house, he did a good job.  One of the things that always makes me smile is what the stressfulness of washing clothes reality was like back then.  Remember?    Got clothes washed either in a machine or in a tub.  Always hung them outside to dry... or inside when the freezing or raining was hitting them.  In those days, also, girls wore dresses to school...usually cotton.  Everything needed to be ironed.  Dad ironed piles of the dresses for the girls when he was home.  Men rarely did those things in those years.  So Dad was a blessing in this instance.

I have a very blessed moment in time, also.  At the end of my 5th grade year, with my report card when school ended. I was filled with rejoicing, because I had straight-A's that time.
When Dad was coming home from a job, climbing up the stairs from the street to the yard, and I ran out and hollered about it, my Dad knelt down, threw his arms around me, gave me a kiss and was teary.  He was so happy for me, and it filled his heart with joy.

Yes, life was usually filled with toughness from my parents.  Occasionally, they did very good and kind things for me and my sisters, usually when they had left the alcohol, stopped hanging out at bars, and were working consistently.  But, for some reason, they both began hitting the bars again, and danger began again for them and many others.

But, when I think of Dad, I DO remember the ironing he did and the gratefulness he had when I had straight-A's the first time.

As I often say, I'm truly looking forward to seeing Dad in heaven, because he no longer has the painfulness -- in his spirit, soul, and body -- since he had been a young kid.  1) He had serious heart issues, mostly because his mom had the 1918 Flu when pregnant with him.  2) As a young boy was threatened to be murdered by a step-dad.  3)  Poverty stricken, and then having to deal with serious situations during the Great Depression and WWII.  

But the Lord broke through his life a number of times, protecting him, drawing him to Himself, and Dad finally turned to the Lord, thoroughly. 

I had rarely seen my Dad after I was 23, when I, married, had moved to California.  Heard from him every year or so, and that was it.  When I was 32, when I lived in Omaha, that's when he called to tell me about his salvation, and then sent me a wonderful letter.

And I'm so looking forward to being with him in heaven.  After all these years, I can be with him as his "little girl".  What a treat that will be.

==============================


I'm sorry this doesn't move logically, systematically...but it wasn't easy to organize.  But sharing my Dad was very important.  Shared Mom last week and this was laid on me by the Lord. 

RUN AND LEAP, DAD

MY DAD, IN '82 OR '83, VISITING
 MY HALF-SISTER/HIS DAUGHTER, 
MARTHA,

A WORKER IN HAWAII.

GIVEN THIS PHOTO OF DAD IN HAWAII YEARS AGO. 
IT ALWAYS MAKES ME SMILE. 
 I'M SURE HE WAS THRILLED TO BE THERE.
AND SO APPRECIATE THAT MARTHA INVITED HIM 
AND PAID EVERYTHING FOR HIM.
DAD HAD VERY LITTLE MONEY, EVER.

DAD DIED MAY 22, 1984, 65 YEARS OLD,

FROM LUNG/BRAIN CANCER.

THIS WAS THE VERSE USED AT HIS FUNERAL.

IT TRULY WAS DESCRIPTIVE OF HIM.

 THE LORD HAD ENTERED HIS LIFE A FEW YEARS EARLIER -- DAD CALLED FROM TACOMA WHERE HE LIVED TO MY PLACE IN OMAHA ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN THE SPRING OF APRIL, '79, TO TELL ME AND THEN SENT ME A WONDERFUL LETTER -- AND I WAS BLESSED TO KNOW HE HAD TRULY TURNED TO THE LORD. 

 [AS MANY OF YOU KNOW FROM MY STORIES, HE WAS VERY TOUGH, VERY ROUGH MOST OF THE TIME. -- AND HE WAS RAISED EXCEEDINGLY ROUGH, TOO.  WELL, NOW I'M EXCITED, BECAUSE I WILL SEE HIM IN HEAVEN, AND WE WILL BE FOREVER-FRIENDS. SOMETIMES I THINK I CAN HARDLY WAIT!]

 [AND, I'M GOING TO SHARE A FEW OTHER PIECES ABOUT DAD VERY SOON.  WORKING ON IT NOW!  SHARING THIS FIRST, THOUGH.]