FIRST RESPONDERS PRAYER TIME...EVEN ICY AREA!

        Last night we were at a murder site in the eastern portion of Omaha.  No surprise to me.  Several years ago the Lord had me walk in a variety of those areas and praying and looking at the homes and dealing with what the Lord told me to do, where to go.  I've also driven for about 5 years through those areas, also.  NOW, since legally I can't drive anything b/c of the increase of dementia, it breaks my heart a bit.
        Anyhow, when we were told that a man had been murdered, a couple days later we were at that location.  It was snowy and icy all around the street, and very cold.  My husband took me, since I couldn't drive, and he stayed there and prayed and encouraged. [Dave and I have, usually, other God-jobs so we are rarely hitting the road together.  Now he's doing it any time if at all possible at the murder situations.  That's a blessing to me!]
        The amazing piece jumped at us.  When Dave and I got there... a little more than 3 miles from our house... we were among the earliest who had arrived, and so shocked and surprised to see a bunch of guys that walked into the house where the man had died.  It was a broken house for a length of time and he was, according to the news, someone who walked in our town without a place to stay, so the police/news people had said he had just popped in. 

Well, we heard things a bit differently shortly after there. We discovered that the guys were from a strong and special place in Omaha called Open Door Mission.  When one of their leaders spoke to us and said that Derek, who was 55 when murdered, was with their group and had been moving around sometimes to see people who didn't have homes, and he had been in this empty place and had lead some to the Lord.  He had prayed for some of the men.  Anyhow, we don't who and/or why, but he was murdered. The only good thing we know joyfully is that he is in Heaven.
        There was a stretch of time when about a dozen of the Open Door Mission guys had come from that part of town and about a dozen of us... First Responders people... even though the road was icy and hard to walk on ... we stood on a snowy side at a yard portion of another broken home.  Then, after some sharing from them, a couple of our main pastors who are leaders, told the guys to get in the center so we could lay our hands on them when the praying was being done. And to encourage them, even though this situation had confused and confused them.  We saw some tears.   I had a couple right in front of me and I put my arms around them. 

Joshua on the left.  In my heart!!

         When I was putting my arms around, Dave held my 2 canes and held my back so I couldn't fall.  THEN when the time was finished, I grabbed the guy/kid I'd been touching... think he's in his 20s ... and I asked his name.  He said he is Joshua.  So, since I'm reading the portion of the Bible right now, I told him I'd be praying for him.  And I have been!  Won't ever see him again I'm sure, but just lifting to the Lord. 
        When leaving, Dave and I were blessed and encouraged by a few people. 
        Anyhow, last night was cold and sorrowful in a lot of ways.... but the Lord broke into a lot of us and a lot of others in a kind way that night.  Usually, we pray for families, etc., when someone has been murdered.  However, we don't know much of anything about Derek's history, but we expect that he will know family and friends when he's in Heaven. 

GOD BENDS DOWN! WE ARE BLESSED THROUGH THAT!

     That's what we can count on, forever and ever.  Touching and praying and encouraging is all we can do in our lifetime.  And heading to Heaven is a wonderful spiritual understanding piece!  It is Christmas time, and filled with wonderfulness, moment-by-moment -- either in, the last 31 years, Omaha usually, or at a Christmas stretch-of-days at Minnesota several times for my "sister"/ friend, Susan in the Clearbrook area and to the Twin Cities at Dave's family.  Also,  were in Uganda three Christmas times ['94, '95, 2003].  It's all a blessing. 
      BUT, anywhere, and here or there, serving the Lord is all that counts!  He's had me reading, recently, all the Prophets, a bit of Psalms, Revelation, and, now, John -- will finish that on Saturday.  Thinking of our Heavenly Father and Jesus when everything I'm reading.  On my heart momentarily, even today.

AND, BTW, this photo was taken when we were praying for a family mom or aunt of the teenage boy who had been murdered.  Just happened to work out that I was the official pray-er that day when the prayer shawl was placed.  That was about three years ago. It was a very cold time, but no snow right then, so driving to that part of town... way southeast... was possible.  Many were prayed over by several who were blessing them!!  OH, and I don't know when and/or how I can be at First Responders at the murder sites ... which I've done for 7-1/2 years, unless I'm out of town to the NW or Minnesota area usually ... and I can't drive any more.  It's been at a hospital here when I was being tested about 10 days ago, immediately said I could not drive a car.  I've been crying a LOT since then, but worshiping and praying and glorifying the Lord.  All that counts is HIM, forever and ever!!  Now I'll shut up!!

FIRST RESPONDERS AGAIN! HEAVY SIGH, HEAVY SIGN!

    A fairly young man, Garion, 19 years old, when pulling into his house area a couple days ago, gang groups shot him, and, about an hour later he died.  Today, when several of us showed up at the house area, his grandma, mom, aunt, sisters, nieces, nephews, and piles of other friends indicated that he had been at a church and now was in heaven with the Lord.

    His aunt, who showed up immediately, stepped forward first, and she

hugged one of our guys who had been her doctor.  I had no idea that this fellow had been a doctor.  They hugged and hugged.  And in the past year I've tried to make sure I have tissue pieces to pass around when they are crying and tears and flowing down.  Shared with several today.  And, at the end of the prayer time and getting ready to leave them so they could be filled with family situation, the lady hugged me and cried onto my shoulder and I was able to hug her and pray for her. 
    I was planning to be heading home, and, when walking up the street to our car area, a long-time First Responder "brother", Dean, about a year older than me, walked up with me and held my hand that didn't have my cane, and he made sure I wouldn't fall on those terrible sidewalks.  I've wanted Dean to come to our house many times, so that he would meet Dave.  Dean lives in a completely different part of Omaha, and I haven't seen him for several months, because he can't drive all this way.  Anyhow, he is a treat!  
    On the news tonight, since a couple of the main ones were there, I hope to see how it was shared.  And, as the family said, Garion is in heaven.  That's what we can rejoice upon.  And he isn't the first one we've been with at these murder sites that were Christians.  I hope to meet them when I'm in heaven, too.  We also hope that the ones who have done the murdering, and end up in prison, that they may turn to the Lord, too.  Our Lord is all we can ever count on, forever and ever.

   

MURDER AT THE MALL...DECEMBER 5, '07

 
This is LONG, but breaking it into two or three posts to keep the working down didn't seem to fit, considering the circumstances. Hope you can endure it; it will be worth it. Also, even though I've rewritten portions today, I did post this 2 years ago, but wanted to share it again.  AND a very important change has occurred has been placed at the end of the post.  Thanks much.
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I often tell people that, as followers of the Lord, we need to trust Him that we will be in the right place at the right time.

On December 5, 2007, early afternoon, I was heading to Westroads Mall here in Omaha to take some time to relax and snack and wander and enjoy the Christmas lights and decorations. I'd had a busy morning with my young grandson and was now free. My evening was going to be very busy, because it was time for the rehearsal for our Christmas play at church. I had four whole hours of freedom. I was so looking forward to that time, that quiet and blessed time.

About an hour after arriving at the mall, I suddenly decided to go to the opposite end from my usual "wandering" location. I went to J C Penney's to see if I could find a sweater. Something significantly on sale... truly, TRULY on sale.

Found what was perfect for me, and, after the purchase, I was preparing to walk out into the corridor, but heard a man hollering loudly, it echoing down the hall, and I hesitated; I didn't want to risk walking into a fight of some kind. A few seconds later, a group came running through. All ages, all sizes, men and women. My first thought while watching them rush through was "what bus are they going to miss?" The last person, a well-dressed and high-heeled lady, glanced at me and said, "There's shooters here."

I looked at the lady who was standing next to me, an elderly, small, sophisticated, white-haired, beautifully dressed woman. [I was dressed about as casually as possible and could still show up in public!] I said, "I'll take care of you." She looked me up and down and said, "OK." -- She has always told people that I said to her "I'm your guardian angel." That wouldn't be anywhere near the truth; ain't my style.

I called Dave quickly. He was at work at Offutt AFB, a few miles south of town. My phone signal wasn't very good, so when he answered all I said was, "Someone said there's shooters here at the mall. Don't know if it's a rumor. Pray."

In the next few minutes the stress piled. Penney's basement had a special delivery area, and the police invaded a good portion of the mall through that entrance. While I stood near the corridor, able to see a good distance down the hallway, the police rushed in. The store's corridor glass door closed, two of the officers faced the interior of the store, stone-faced, clutching rifles across their chests, looking at those of us who were there. A couple other officers ran up the escalator, guns in hand.

Partly because of my upbringing, I'm not one that runs to hide in a closet. I always look for exits or prepare for a crisis, not backing down. So, in this situation, I moved a few feet and stood among the clothes racks so I could hit the floor if necessary. I wasn't afraid... I just knew I needed to concentrate on what was happening.

A few minutes later... don't know how long it was -- stressful, adrenal-style times overwhelm the normal time frame -- the store manager came through and said we needed to evacuate the store and head out the back entrance, then go across the parking lot and over to a strip mall with businesses and small shops ... the equivalent of a couple-blocks walk. When I reached the outside, I saw "my" lady again, and joined her and there was another lady holding her arm and supporting her. The other lady was an employee of Penney's and, as we were helping Alyce across the lot and across the street, Julia [I knew that by reading her name tag] suddenly said, "We haven't prayed!" So, as we walked through the snow and ice and helped Alyce, we prayed that the Lord would protect and help and bring all of this to the right light.

Amazing to watch: it was COLD out, temp in the teens, and some people had no jackets or long sleeved shirts, because they'd dropped them or left them behind when they had to run, and some had small children, even in strollers, were not wearing enough warm clothing. I tossed my bag to a couple young gals and said to just wear the shirt and sweater and they could keep them, but if they wanted to give them back I'd be in the office building a block away. [A few minutes later they found me and returned them. I was just happy that they'd been able to stay warm for a while before they'd worked out their problems.] Julia and Alyce had kept walking ahead while I stopped to talk to the young ladies. When I had rushed away from them after giving them my clothes, trying to catch up with Alyce and Julia, and was walking across the strip mall, headed for the office building, a police car suddenly cut between me and the stores, and a policeman jumped out of the car, and pointed his gun over the top and hollered to a guy who was walking on the sidewalk, "Stop!... Hit the ground!" The man, who had walked out of Penney's with the rest of us, did. [I found out later that it was because he was wearing a camo jacket and a ball cap, the only description of the shooter(s) the police had at that time.] At that moment, I called Dave again, and this time I burst into tears. Just overwhelmed. Within a couple minutes, another officer showed up, and the man was freed.

I went to the office building and helped Julia and Alyce. The only funny part ... some of the ladies who had been forced out of the mall were in a hair salon, and, with the salon-style capes, their hair in various kinds of care, including perms and color-adjustments of one type or another, were sitting in the lobby of this office building. All I could think of was what a mess this could end up being for them.

A while later, the Penney's employees were called back to the building, so Julia left Alyce and me. A while later... [this is a constant phrase from that day... so little accurate time was known], I was able to contact Alyce's retirement center and let them know that she was OK and that I would bring her home. I had to walk a long way around the mall to find my car, but I made it in a few minutes, and passed through the police checkpoint, picked up Alyce and took her to her place. The office members ran out for her and just blessed my socks off.-- A few days later gave me a gift card with which I purchased a stone-style vase. [BTW, the reason she couldn't get home without help was because the center's van had dropped her off, but the police wouldn't let anyone enter the mall parking lots, so she would have been stuck there for hours. I just happened to be her protector, keeper, provider.]


Up to that point, there were only rumors regarding the shootings, the number of deaths, the number of shooters. It hit the news nationally, almost immediately. I was headed for my car when I decided to call my Mom in Tacoma, Washington, and warn her that if she heard about the mall, that she could know I would be OK. She said she was watching it on TV right then.
 
After dropping Alyce off, I headed home. When nearly there I realized I hadn't called my friend, Marge, to let her know I was OK. That morning I had told her I was going to be at the mall. When I called her, she became ecstatic... when this event had hit the news she had called others around town and her family members in other states asking them to pray for my protection.
 
When I got home, I was a bit in shock. Even though I remember the tiny details of my time at the mall and the drive home, I hardly remember what I did later, or how I felt. I, of course, turned on the TV and was buried in that news for hours... the rehearsal for that night was canceled, of course.

The final result: 8 murdered in one store, Von Maur, by a 19-year old "man", who took his own life at the end. Several others were wounded physically; many in the store and nearby locations suffered emotionally for quite some time, including the police who were faced with horrific bloodshed. The officers also struggled after facing terrified people, hiding in closets and fitting rooms, sometimes not realizing that, as a policeman opened a door, they were safe, not a target.
 
Ten days later, I went to the mall again. I needed to. Von Maur was still closed, being refurbished and remodeled. I simply wanted to walk through and feel and see what I needed to ... I didn't need much healing ... just a nugget or two. I also went to Penney's to find Julia. When I finally saw her at a customer service location, and I moved through the line and reached her, she dropped what she was doing and ran around the counter and threw her arms around me and sobbed.
 
A few days later, the day before Von Maur was reopening, the memorial bits and pieces were going to be removed and put in storage. I went there to take photos and walk through the whole phase of healing, one more time.





Julia and I went to Alyce's center for lunch in early January. She, and a number of others, blessed and thanked us so much for what we had done.I still have the sweater and I wear it every December 5th, and will until it's one ragged piece of junk. I've lost track of Julia. Alyce moved to Branson, MO, to be with family. [OH, and her family members, who at first said to her, when she told them about the woman who had said she was her guardian angel, "You believed her!!? You really believed she'd take you home!?" now have some respect for me.]

But the point is... what I began this post with... I know that I was in the exact place the Lord wanted me to be at exactly the right time to help exactly the right person. I wasn't there to keep someone from being killed, or help the wounded. I was only there to take one elderly lady to a safe location and then to take her home.

It was worth it!
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This is what I recently received:

Want to inform you, in case you did not know, Alyce died in her sleep with me sitting with her on the night of October 1st.  Her heart just gave out.

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I had received letters and cards from her over these years, besides the times I visited her at the retirement center here.  If I'm ever able to go Branson, I'll definitely try to meet her daughter.  Again... THAT would be worth it!  

SOROTI CHILDREN'S CAMP -- SORROW AND SADNESS

It was one hot early afternoon, and Jill and I needed to get over to the children’s camp. We hid her purse and my backpack in the office and pocketed a few shillings for our “drivers”.

I tracked down our frequently used “boda-boda” guys. They were only about ½ block from the office building. It always made some of the hanger-outers to grin when these not-young white ladies climbed onto the bicycle passenger seats, sitting side-saddled. The camp was only a mile or so away, so wouldn’t take long, but the rough trails and mechanically unfancy bikes made the ride pretty intense; too easy to slide off.

When we reached the camp, it was quiet. Most of the kids were in the back part eating. With the heat increasing, the rebels had begun to back off, so danger was reducing and many other kids had left the camp and were going to the IDP camps or villages to be with their parents.

Jill and I were certain we were at the camp for a reason. God had called us there, and we knew it. We just didn’t know why. Then, two people were dropped into our lives: an older woman and a teenage girl. Both broke our hearts.

After being there for a few minutes, we saw a lady walking across the yard, looking as if she was ready to head out, but with a heavy sigh. We called her over to the porch, out of the sun, and asked what she was doing and where she was from.

Her name was Madesta. She was a widow probably in her 50s. She had been staying at a refugee camp many miles outside of Soroti. Madesta had walked several miles on a dirt road to a main highway, had been able to pay a small amount to be on a bus; she had made it to Soroti the day before. Her reason? She had several older married daughters, but her youngest child, Tino Betty, 13, had been abducted on June 15, exactly 6 months earlier. Madesta had not been home at the time; she was caring for another daughter in a hospital. While she was away from home, the villagers became frightened and started running. A great number of people had crammed themselves into a home for safety. Suddenly, the rebels came from no where, invaded the house, and her daughter was one of many who were abducted. When Madesta came to the camp to check up and find out if Betty was there, she had seen several kids from her area and they gave her their information; the last time Betty was seen by them, she was in the Kitgum area, about 75 miles away, preparing food for the commanders.

Jill and I were just heart-whelmed for Madesta. The three of us simply prayed together. As she was ready to leave she said, “God gave me that child; He will bring her back.” Jill and I felt a bit upset that we had not brought enough shillings to be certain Madesta could have an easier ride to the camp.

Of course, I’ve never heard the results. But Madesta truly touched my heart.

After she left, Jill and I split up and wandered to different parts of the camp to check on various kids. We had a short while before the bikers were coming back for us. I was pretty casual, if you can imagine that. Saw kids I’d talked to before, gave hugs, and jumped in and played dodge ball with them. They laughed and screamed hysterically; they didn’t expect that kind of action from a “old” white lady. Even the guards were laughing.

When I saw Jill, it changed again. She was teary. She had seen a teenager sitting aside, against a wall. No one around her. Looked very sad. What she learned through questions and interpretation was just blunt, not a lot of detail. But enough to break a heart.

Jennifer was 16. In June, the rebels were attacking her village and she and another child were caught; the other child escaped. The group went to the border of Sudan, about 225 miles away, and then walked back down. Jennifer and the others were forced to carry luggage, were beaten. During the march, the rebels killed tired children. Jennifer was forced to watch while children were killed, and once she had been forced to kill a child who had been re-captured. The only blessing: she was not raped.

She had escaped into some bush and 2 days later was found by an old woman who took her to army barracks in Lira. She had been shifted to Soroti, 60 miles away. Jennifer had still not heard about her parents.

When Jill took me over to see her, she pointed out a type of abscess on Jennifer’s leg which was very infected and painful; she was being taken to the hospital that day for treatment.

Then our bikers arrived and we needed to get back downtown to the office and help pastors and others in need.

Yes, it had been a hot day. But our hearts were hotter than the weather could ever have been – our hearts were buried at the camp... again.

TRAGIC WEEK... AND BLESSED

Sometimes life is frustrating and filled with anger and rage. That would describe my momentary stretches this past few days.

According to the recent report, there have been at least 15 shootings since the beginning of the month here in Omaha... the beginning of our new year. Three men died.

We had three First Responders prayer times... one on Friday evening, two this afternoon. At all of them we had family members and neighborhood folks meet with us so we could comfort, encourage, and pray the peace of God over them, AND allow them to share their hearts with us.

On Friday night, the prayer time was held at a home just down the street from where Joshua had been shot. The shooting was on Tuesday; he was on life support until Wednesday. Joshua, 22, had been part of a local Christian facility for some time. The ministry focuses on kids from the tough and poor neighborhoods and difficult family backgrounds. Many of that ministry's group members have been in gangs and on drugs. There's been more than one indication that Joshua had changed his way of life and was trying to turn a solid direction. Many of the friends and family who were at this prayer time... a cold and windy and dark time ... were Christians. Solidly walking with the Lord.

During the praying and sharing, of the 50 or so people, a bunch of small children were running in and out of the circle, the pack. Another few guys in their teens and early twenties were Joshua's friends. And, among others, his grandma, mom, aunt, and one of his young boys.

The saddest aspects this event? His dad was killed, just "accidentally", last August.

Thursday, 3 PM, a 42-year old man was shot in front of his apartment; he died shortly after arriving at a nearby hospital. A 19-year old man was arrested today.


We met at the murder site this afternoon at 2:00 for the prayer time. A number of family, neighbors, and friends came. At all the murder sites I've been at in the past 3-1/2 years, I've never seen any harder-looking faces. Especially the women. Whatever the reason for the shooting, they lost George. Forever and ever.

Then, we went to a home about a mile from my house. This was even more disastrous.

It was a domestic situation, and we rarely go to one of those places. We don't want the neighborhood or the family to be upset, thinking that we are just nosy. This description might be hard to follow, but give it a try. In this case, Antonio, father of a couple boys, became angry because their mom, Kennetta, with whom he had lived for a few years until a recent breakup, had a new man, Davarus,living with her. Antonio showed up on Friday morning and shot and killed Davarus. Then Antonio took the young boys [8, 5, and 4 years old] into his car and hit the street. He was stopped and arrested just a couple miles away. The kids were OK -- physically, at least.

Because of the children and the future of their stress and "heart" damage, we went today. Turns out that, even though we planned to not be in front of the house, but would only be together up the street, we were actually invited to the property. One family member stood by the front door, the protector ... from some source the family has been receiving threats. Another young man, Michael, a family friend in his early 20s, prayed intensely. A little later another young man was with us, looked very sad. When I glanced a couple minutes later, he had a young woman in his arm, her head on his shoulder. Someone asked who she was and he said it was his sister. And the sister was Kennetta. I would never have imagined such a young woman being the mother of those boys.

We all encircled them, and a local pastor prayed very intensely for her. Kennetta sobbed and sobbed and clung to her brother. Michael, who had prayed earlier, came back down from the house and spread his arms around our shoulders, too.

At church this morning, I was telling my pastor about this day-plan on my schedule and what Friday's F.R. was like. He said something that touched me. Basically, that we tend to read a newspaper, glance at these horrible events, skim through, and then head on to something else. [My mind was saying "comics".. my tendency.] And he was not pleased with the automatic choices people make almost constantly.

So, I'm home. I'd like to spend more time editing and re-editing and perfecting this post, but I can't adjust it much better right now; too much on my mind and heart. But, also, I can't wait to send it out to the world. Why? Three families are walking through a stretch of life the vast majority of us never have to face. For them, my heart is filled with an intense desire that the enemy lose ENTIRELY. That these wives, moms, children, lovers, dads, grandparents, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters... and on and on... will turn to the Lord and find His kind hands touching their hearts.

And THAT is the blessing. We WILL be together; we WILL spiritually fight together; we WILL praise our Father together -- forever and ever -- AMEN.