Author: Anne (Grace is my Superhero)

A Hard, Hard Season (My 11th Pregnancy and Postpartum)

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I haven’t written very much in the past 3 years.  I haven’t posted anything on my blog since 2023.  I have so much inside, and it is time to get it out.  I fear exposure and being too vulnerable, but I also know my story is not just my own. I know there are others out there who have lived through a hard, hard season and may be haunted by the trauma left behind.

I want to tell my story of God’s goodness in it all!

               The year 2023 started with many God encounters.  I experienced the love of God as my father and my mother in deeper ways than I had before.  Jesus started opening my heart to His romantic advances.  I had knowledge of this divine romance, but had little experience with it. Jesus was wooing me!  Waves and waves of His love would roll over me culminating at the Women’s Encounter in March (called Waves) when I discovered that I was pregnant at 47 with baby 11. I was so thrilled!  Intimacy produces good fruit, doesn’t it?

               I had so much faith for this season.  I prayed that God would redeem all trauma from my 10th pregnancy and birth. I prayed for supernatural healing and for the best pregnancy and birth yet!  I heard through a couple sources a word from God, “I will give you all that you have asked for (1 Kings 5:8).” 

               I asked for a homebirth that would redeem the nightmare homebirth turned ambulance ride from 5 years ago.  But the health care professionals I reached out to labeled me “high risk.”  God worked a miracle!  I friend introduced me to a “Crunchy Mama” Facebook page which introduced me to a “Homebirth” page which introduced me to a midwife who was currently pregnant with her 10th, in her 40s, and had successfully delivered many women like me at home.

               I struggled to get through the first trimester, but that is always the case for me.  I was looking forward to the second trimester and taking the family vacation we had already planned for June.  That beautiful, glorious vacation at a house along the Loyalsock Creek began my descent into despair.  I had been hoping to be full of energy for every family outing, but I had to push myself to do anything.  I still was nauseous from the first trimester, but the aches and pains plus varicose veins from the third trimester were already upon me. I had picked out the cutest outfit to wear on a date with Chris, but alas, I was already too big to wear it! Feeling old, big, and ugly; I still looked for a God encounter.

God speaks to me on every vacation we take, and this year we had revisited the area where I had first spotted an eagle. I had purchased a photo of the eagle at the Hills Grove General Store right before I walked outside and saw the eagle in person!  That was six years ago, and what a wonderful adventure it has been, learning to soar with God above the earth. I tell all about it in previous blog post , and part 2

               We planned a trip to the same store which is now called the McCarthy Mercantile.  It looked much the same, but no eagles inside or outside! That was on Tuesday. On Wednesday I was talking to God about seeing an eagle again. It had been such a long time since I had seen one.  We were leaving Saturday morning, and I didn’t want my God encounter to slip away.  I was standing by an open window, listening to the rushing water of the creek outside. What a calming sound.

               “This time it isn’t about the eagle.  It is about the water,” I heard God say.

               Oh, it was so good to hear His voice!  But what did He mean?  I loved the symbol of the eagle dearly and missed it.  I pictured the waterfall that Much-Afraid beheld in Hinds Feet on High Places. The water was joyfully leaping down the mountain, to be broken on the rocks and to flow ever lower until it met with the expanse of the ocean. 

               “Am I supposed to be like that? To go lower and lower and to pour myself out like a drink offering?  To not care if I live or die.  To be happy about sorrow and suffering?”

               This thought was not nearly as thrilling as soaring like an eagle.  Even though I knew that God is always good and loving, I felt discouraged.

               “This isn’t what I wanted, what I was hoping for,” I whispered to Him.  If He offered me comfort, I did not hear it.

               As the second trimester was nearing the third, I couldn’t resolve my severe anemia, and I blamed it for all my weird symptoms like shortness of breath, extreme fatigue, and an unsteadiness that hindered me from walking in a straight line.  I was supposed to be out walking, but I felt like I couldn’t walk!  I was supposed to be doing exercises, but I felt like I could hardly move. I finally received an iron infusion and prayed that it would work since my midwife had been threatening to transfer my care to Divine Mercy Hospital.

               It worked, at least my bloodwork said it did.  But I felt no different. I wondered how I was going to get through my third trimester with this feeling and my core muscles already threatening to give out on me completely. Despite God’s love for me, one thought kept returning.

               “If God loves me so much, why would He want me to suffer?”

               In September I had a dream that felt very spiritual.  In my dream, I was on vacation in the mountains at a Christian Retreat Center.  I was sleeping so much that I hadn’t even seen the mountains.  I saw two of my other friends heading out for a hike, and I didn’t want them to think that I couldn’t handle my pregnancy, so I rushed to follow them.  My five-year-old daughter Aria joined me. 

               When we stepped out to take a walk, we found ourselves viewing a cityscape like New York City.  We were in a high rise with floor to ceiling glass and the view was amazing!  I saw some very large birds flying among the skyscrapers and stepped closer to the glass.  Could they be eagles?

               One bird started flying straight for me and in excitement I thought, “This could be my God Encounter!”

               The eagle flew right up to the glass and hovered there. It was much larger than I had first thought.  Horror filled my heart as I saw what the eagle really was. It was covered with fluffy white feathers, and one wing had been mangled.  The bloody twisted bones protruded where the feathers had been stripped.  But it’s face!  Not the face of an eagle but the face of a man.  A man with chalky white skin and pink and red makeup drawn haphazardly around the eyes, like a clown you would see in a horror movie.  Oh, how I wished that Aria wasn’t with me to witness this dreadful sight.

               I saw the expression on the ghastly face.  It was smiling at me. No, smirking at me.  It knew something I didn’t know and was wickedly happy about it.

Mocking me as though it was saying, “So you have trusted God?  I am going to enjoy picking you apart bit by bit.”

               I woke up with a start and didn’t know what to think.  The next few days the face of that eagle would flash through my mind and each time my trauma response increased.  Finally, I sought God and asked Him to explain it to me.

               He answered in His gentle way, “That is how you are seeing me right now.  You feel sorry for yourself because you feel mistreated by me. You wonder if I am good and you wonder if I love you.  Take that belief system to the ultimate end and you get a God who delights in torturing you.  That is not who I am.”

               I felt ashamed!  Yet unable to get out from under it.  Finally, I told Chris about the dream and how I felt about God telling me that it is not about the eagle this time but the water.  He helped to bring me out of my hormonal haze and show me reality. He saw the water as a very positive thing. He sent me a video of water flowing over a dam so I could hear the sound whenever I needed it.  When I listened to it, I heard, “Nothing bad has happened.”  I was fearing and worrying over many things, but none of them had manifested…except my sorrow and suffering.  How to bear up under it?

               Pastor Charles had been doing a series on Strongholds, and I realized that I had one: a mindset impregnated with hopelessness about situations contrary to God’s will that I had accepted as unchangeable.  I was sitting in church listening, but pain in my back and neck wouldn’t allow me to stay any longer. I had to get up and go to the bathroom.  A dear friend and prayer counselor, Lori, was in the ladies’ room, and she asked me how I was doing.  I probably mustered a “pretty good” or “ok”, but actually I was in the depths of despair.  Lori looked me in the eyes and said, “Are you depressed?”  I don’t think I have ever answered “yes” to the question before, but I did this time.

               She whisked me off to her prayer room and, oh the tears and wonderful words of God that were released there.  It was a lifeline to keep me going.

               I texted Chris, who was still in the service, about where I was.  He forgot to check his phone, so after the service, he had many of the women scouring every nook and cranny of the church to find me.  He was worried enough to organize a search party, and I felt so loved!

               The rest of my pregnancy became about trusting moment by moment, getting as comfortable as I could, and sleeping.  I was able to sleep 14 hours a day and still felt exhausted, but how glorious was the sleep!  I began to visualize how I wanted my labor to go.  The bulk of the contracting and dilating would happen while I slept.  I would wake up to discover that my baby had dropped into position.  He would slide out easily. I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore!  I could eat whatever I wanted!  I could sit and nurse to my heart’s content!  I could meet this mysterious little man who flipped and twisted and laid himself out diagonally inside me.

               At 38 weeks I received a phone call from my midwife. She explained that my bloodwork came back with some very bad numbers, and she was worried that I had a condition I had never heard of before (some rare form of preeclampsia).  She used a lot of words, but I understood almost none of them.  She wanted me to pack a bag and go to Divine Mercy to be induced immediately!   I wanted to collapse in bed and wail, but I had visitors sent by Ashlyn’s case worker to set up care for her.  I got through the meeting and received another call from the midwife. 

               “I called Divine Mercy. They told me that your bloodwork isn’t as bad as I thought. I can monitor you until you deliver, and if your blood pressure doesn’t go up and your bloodwork doesn’t get worse, you should be fine. But you must take your blood pressure twice a day, eat protein every hour, and double your water intake,” she said. 

Now I had many more hoops to jump through to secure my homebirth but…phew!  I was incredibly relieved!!      

               This baby was going to come early…any day now, I just knew it.  He was so heavy and so low, he just had to be ready.  My midwife had explained that mothers of many babies tend to go late because their bellies have been overextended and the baby isn’t in line with the birth canal.  I faithfully taped up my belly as far as I could manage with kinesiology tape and tried not to bother with how itchy it was. Everyday I went to bed with the expectation, “This could be the night.”  Every morning, I woke up pregnant.  I experienced contractions while I slept. Just mild ones that wouldn’t wake me up but would be in my dreams. Finally at almost 40 weeks, I stopped thinking that baby Camden would come early and just said to myself, “I made it through this day, I can make it through another,” and would fall asleep in peace.  Now I was getting stronger contractions at night that would wake me up, but I was able to go back to sleep.

               Finally on Dec 4th, only 3 days overdue, the glorious morning came when the contractions didn’t stop.  I experienced a redeeming home birth that played out much like I prayed that it would.  Except that it wasn’t easy or pain free. It was the most painful of the 11. 

And there was a little trouble afterwards with a sudden flow of blood that convinced the midwife and my husband that I was minutes away from dying.

This prompted a 911 call and a flurry of activity that changed the entire atmosphere: from relaxed and comfortable bliss to frantic and jarring fear.  Thankfully, I quickly stabilized, and the ambulance was canceled.  Chris said it was the prayer team he had assembled in a matter of seconds.  The midwife said it was Camden who saved me as he nursed and looked at me with wide eyes.  I said I was never going to die and felt just fine (until I tried to stand and walk).

Overall, it was a beautiful, fast homebirth to a robust and healthy boy! I was so thankful!

There was the small detail of a strange man pushing his way into my bedroom to ask me questions while I nursed my baby, still laying naked on my bed. The ambulance hadn’t been canceled after all! That indecency haunted me for months afterward.

               I finally asked Chris, “Why didn’t any of you think to cover me in that moment?”

               “You should be glad to be alive!  You need to remember all the miracles God has done for us,” he would reply.  And he would list them again and again.  I wrote them down and meditated on them.  It was truly stunning what God had done for us!

               Yet I found myself weeping often: when Camden wasn’t gaining enough weight, when I recovered so slowly, when I noticed how hard it was on the rest of the family, when I felt like a burden, when I wasn’t even good at my main job – nursing.  Finally, Chris called Lori and had her talk to me while I lay on our bed, exhausted.  Again, I was able to release tears and trauma and except His love.

That was the turning point where I left depression behind and embraced this new season before me. I love the newborn stage and tried to enjoy every minute: through homeschooling, through nursing and making of homemade formula, through Chris’ transition from a good, steady income with health insurance to owning a business with no guarantees.   We also had so many good times with our children and many opportunities to experience grace.

Summer and then autumn came again. I felt God leading me to homeschool my two high school boys in addition to the other 3 younger children.  I had never done high school before because it was just too difficult. It is just like God to give me this assignment while I was still feeling like my pregnancy had left me much weaker than before. He believed in me.

I had pruned my life down to the essentials: sleeping, eating, praying, taking care of my family and then cleaning, cooking, and homeschool if there was time.  It was hard to get the family all to church. Hanging out with friends became a very rare treat. I had dropped out of women’s prayer.  I wasn’t posting any blog articles or interacting much on social media.  In October I felt compelled to dedicate Camden at church.  I just had to release a spoken testimony about this miracle baby, or I was going to bust!  He was happy, healthy, and developing perfectly.

A few days after Camden’s first birthday I was able to attend the Women’s event in December. It was very powerful and Marcey started us out with a quote from “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe”.

Aslan said to Lucy and Susan after his resurrection, “Climb onto my back, we have far to go, and little time to get there.”

I pictured Grace carrying me all this time.  That was the only way I was going to get anywhere important.

Marcey said, “This will be the ride of our lives. It will be hard, but I don’t want you to disqualify yourselves. We need all of us. We need to surrender to Him.”

She was speaking right to me and igniting a fire.  I didn’t just want to survive; I wanted to run my race again and let Grace carry me to places unknown.

Each woman had been given a little journal with a personalized word printed on the inside. My word was, “UNBROKEN.”  I pulled mine out and started writing.

We watched a clip of the movie and Aslan was talking again after his resurrection, “If they [those who had killed him on the stone table] would have understood the power of sacrifice, they would have interpreted the ancient prophecy differently.  When someone who has committed no treason, willingly gives themselves up, the stone table will crack, and death itself will begin to move backwards.”

The power of sacrifice – the phase seemed to burn into my mind.

“Is that what you have been doing in my life the past two years?” I asked God.  Each moment of weakness, pain, depression, shame, and seeming defeat that I had gone through…could it be that there was power in it?  My sacrifice to carry my 11th miracle child contained within it little gems of power to bring God’s glory to the earth?  I didn’t realize it at the time, but perhaps my feeble attempts to praise God and follow Him through the sacrifice were like little altars, the smoke of sweet-smelling incense rising to heaven and pleasing God?

A vision of the evil eagle from my dream popped into my mind again.  It still plagued me from time to time.  It brought shame when I remembered it, because I thought it was just my subconscious mind showing me how I viewed God, a reminder of how far I had fallen from my lovesick devotion prior to becoming pregnant. 

I heard a whisper from God, “Your enemy showed you his face.  He thought he could take you out, take your baby out, take your family out. Not once did he pluck you out of my hands. Your life and purpose were secure the entire time.  You remain UNBROKEN.”

Peace began to chase away the shame.  I asked God what I should do with the image of the devilish eagle.  I began to surrender to God and saw a rushing river.  The water was so dark, it was black.  I couldn’t see how deep it was or where it was going.  The eagle circled above the river.  Dark water in the form of great black arms reached for the bird. The water pulled my enemy down into the river and the eagle was completely consumed, never to be seen again.

I prayed, “I surrender to your river, your living water.  It feels like a risk – I can’t see the bottom; it is so dark. I can’t discern where it is going.  I don’t know what will happen to me.  Will I sink, swim, or float?”

It seemed like I received an immediate answer from the LORD as Yadira’s voice broke through, “This is a new day.  You have been tested and purified.  You have been given a double portion of faith. A new assignment.  You are being commissioned for a new assignment.  Surrender to whatever God wants.”

A new surrender

A deeper surrender

A holy surrender

The perfect conclusion to a hard, hard season.             

How God Encountered Me at the 2023 Women’s Encounter

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

Last year at this time I wrote about “How God Encountered Me at the 2022 Women’s Encounter.” I ended the article with a look into the future, “I know that I will find Him in unexpected ways in the midst of the ‘Waves’, The Women’s Encounter March 24-25, 2023.”

That was an understatement! I found God in extremely unexpected ways…here is my story…

I was so excited for “Waves”, the Women’s Encounter in March 2023. Not only could I take in the presence of God in the worship, hear His voice through the preaching, and connect to other women, I could also pray on the ministry team. I looked at my calendar about a week before, and I realized that I would be experiencing my time of the month all Encounter weekend.  Not ideal, but I had no worries. 

              On Thursday I thought my period was coming early.  Out of the blue, a wave of sorrow crashed into me. I wasn’t even aware that I had wanted to be pregnant, but just then I felt empty, alone, and forsaken. Immediately I was bombarded by thoughts like,

              “I am not as important without a new life inside.  I am not as valuable.  I could disappear right now, and no one would notice.”

              Despite fighting against these thoughts, I fell into a depressed funk, so different from my previous excitement and hope.  Friday night of the Encounter arrived, and I was still expecting my flow to start any moment.

               Worship was beautiful.  Jesus came to me in a vision.  He and I were standing on a beach, face to face.  The waves were lapping at our feet. It was just Him and me. No earth, no universe, no other people.  I had never done anything right or anything wrong.  I had been stripped to my most elemental being, the being He had created. Nothing was required of me except to receive His love.  Yet I couldn’t help but love Him back!  Suddenly it didn’t matter if I was carrying the tiny seed of a child, or if I was empty.  He loved me.  Just me.  Always and forever me.  And I was His perfect match. 

              Peace washed over me. Little thoughts still skirted around the edges of my mind, in and out of the peace.

              “What if I am pregnant?  Will I be strong enough?  What if I am not pregnant?  Will I be sad?  What if my fertility is at its end? What if it isn’t?!!!”

              I received my scripture, Matt 6:33-34 (MSG):

“Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God provisions.  Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.”

I viewed the rest of the weekend through incredible peace. At the same time, I had babies on the brain. Yadira spoke about “This time next year.”  What incredible things would God do in us by this time next year?  I kept thinking, “Maybe I will have a baby at this time next year.”

              Sue spoke about the WAVES (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service) during WWII when women were released and activated to help in the war effort, to do things that women had never done before.  I kept thinking of women returning to their homes with unexpected pregnancies or other unforeseen circumstances to embrace motherhood in new and amazing ways.

The first woman I prayed for during the ministry time said she wanted to have a baby.  I was so excited and said, “That is one of my favorite prayers.  I have faith for that!”

              Saturday morning came and still no period. I was a bit distracted and didn’t even know what was coming out of my mouth during the prayer times. I found out later that at least one woman felt that my prayer for her was a word from God that gave her fresh fire for her ministry.  This just proves that God really can speak through anyone at any time if He wants to.  I also got to pray for two wombs to be filled!

              Sunday morning came, still no period. Our family went to church, and when it was time to take communion, I found two wafers in my small container. I felt that communion was significant, and it was healing me.

              During the lovely sunny afternoon, Chris announced to me, “I can’t wait any longer.  I am going to pick up a pregnancy test right now!”

              Soon we were both in the bathroom watching two confident lines burst forth. Chris and I just looked at each other with equal parts awe, wonderment, and shock. 

Funny how two little lines can change everything for all eternity!

              Excitement and some fear came rushing in.  My last pregnancy and labor, five years prior, had been very difficult and traumatic.  I asked Chris if he would fast and pray for me and the baby. His eyes became misty, and he gave me a heartfelt, “yes!”

              Still on a high from the Women’s Encounter, I felt that this pregnancy would be a redemption of all that went wrong last time.  This became my constant prayer.  Since my encounter with Jesus had been so amazing, I was expecting this pregnancy to be glorious, easy, and fun!

              I started to feel more tired, dizzy, and forgetful. I had cramps off and on with spotting for weeks. All the emotionally charged fears began to come.

              I tried to remember my verse, “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow.”

              After Easter, I felt my normal first trimester symptoms. They were different and worse than ever!  Perhaps it was the severe anemia. Soon I had the sick feelings of the first trimester and all the aches and pains of the third trimester manifesting at once, and it was only June!  My due date was Dec. 1st.

I began to think that this pregnancy was going to be the hardest thing I had ever done.

              I began to lose heart.  I began to believe the voice of the Accuser that told me that I was a wretch for going back on all God had shown me.  Soon I was battling depression.  I was accusing my own loving Father by saying, “I am willing to carry as many babies as you have for me, but why do I have to suffer so much to do it?  I thought you loved me.  Why do you want me to suffer?”

              I encountered many good scriptures about suffering, but hope and joy seemed hard to find.  I could sleep for 14 hours in a day and still be exhausted. Every time I went to lay in my bed, I would see the little glass bottle from the Women’s Encounter on my headboard.  It contained sand and a single word, “Stronger.”  God showed me so many scriptures about strength and how strength comes from God.  I would say to myself with the small amount of faith I had, “God is making me stronger and stronger” and then I would surrender to His arms and to sleep.

              I tried to live in the presence of Jesus, in His love.  I got little glimpses, but it seemed much harder than before.  I wished I had already learned the lessons from the various speakers at the Waves Encounter.

Patty had shared about how God can rescue His promises from the depths of the grave.  When we face trials there is the temptation to trade what we know (the faithful love of God) for what we don’t know (why did this trial or tragedy happen).  I had fallen to that temptation and now I felt that God had betrayed my trust in the worst possible way. Disappointment was my constant companion.

              A friend of mine who does prayer ministry helped me through this.  She encouraged me to let God love me in my disappointment, to let Him love me through my feelings of betrayal.  He wasn’t shocked or angry about how I had reacted to suffering.  His love remained the same.  He wanted to love me no matter what shape I was in, no matter how I raged against Him.

              I could relate to what Katie had shared at the Encounter when she felt lost at sea during a hard season.  She found that Jesus was in the boat with her.  He was crying with her.  He understood her emotions and she could trust Him. I was relearning that simple truth.

              After the most painful contractions I had ever felt, my baby boy was born on Dec 4th, strong and healthy.  The following weeks were full of joy and sorrow.  Depression threatened me again as I searched for the bliss of childbirth and nursing.  I would talk to Chris about it and start crying, “It just hasn’t been what I was expecting.  Labor was hard.  Camden isn’t nursing well. The midwife is concerned about his weight gain. I am sooooo tired!”

              Chris got in the habit of talking about all the little miracles that happen before, during and after birth. 

              “Just think about the miracles today,” he would tell me, and I remembered Janelle’s testimony at the Encounter. 

              “Gratitude is the way forward through grief,” she had said. So gratitude became my habit again.  I stopped begging God to do what I wanted. I began to ask for grace to be and to do what He wanted. I asked Him what He was doing.  

After some time passed, my pain went away, my baby was nursing like a champ, and he and I were sleeping at night.  

I began to see:

The answers to my prayers. 

The fulfillment of His Promises.

The little miracles that revealed His love for me. 

              I had a healthy pregnancy at age 47.

              I gave birth at home with only 4 hours of intense labor.

              My baby was healthy and strong, with an APGAR score of 10!

I watched as God redeemed all the trauma from the last pregnancy and birth.

              Looking back on last year’s Encounter, I think that the more impactful the encounter, the more glorious the vision, the more earth-shaking the revelation; the harder the subsequent journey. 

              Why? Jesus knows what we need to become like Him. He knows what is coming next.  He wants to love us, encourage us, and get us ready for deeper places with Him.

I have found that the only way to keep my peace during the journey is to surrender to the waves of His love.  To let them carry me where He wills, knowing that the promise is sure, and the reward is better than I can imagine.

I Witnessed a Miraculous Healing in My Own Home!

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

WARNING! This article contains graphic descriptions of a nasty stomach bug as well as graphic descriptions of the stripes of Jesus. Not for the sensitive reader!

It started with Annalise complaining that her belly hurt at bedtime. She seemed so tired that I was sure she would fall asleep and feel better in the morning.  A few hours later she came down from her room to say that her belly still hurt.  When I took her to the bathroom, she immediately threw up violently in the sink.  I cleaned up the mess while Chris tried to comfort her. Soon she was back in the bathroom, but this time she made it to the toilet.  This happened two more times and we were sure she had thrown up everything she had in her stomach.  Still, I felt that I should sleep in the living room with her so we could both be close to the bathroom.

               I tried to create makeshift beds while comforting my sweet seven-year-old.  She is usually very healthy, and she just wasn’t used to getting sick. As soon as I got her settled down to sleep with a bowl next to her, I lay down in the darkness and wondered if I would be able to sleep on the hard floor.   Annalise was only asleep for an hour before she woke up groaning.

               “Go to the bathroom!  Go to the bathroom!” I spoke with urgency.

  She tried but the bowl got the most of it.  This happened a few more times, and sleep seemed out of the question.

               “That’s the last time, Mama.  I don’t have anything left,” Annalise said bravely.  We both tried to sleep again.  It wasn’t long before Annalise was vomiting in the bowl right next to me, and I could feel the splashing.  I got her to the bathroom, spoke tender words to her, cleaned everything, treated the room with essential oils, and tried to rest again.

               “That’s the last time, Mama,” Annalise said as she practically crumbled onto her bedroll and pillow.  I thought surely, she would start feeling better!  Her body must have gotten rid of all the sickness but now.

               Wrong!  She continued to throw up yellow bile while experiencing diarrhea at the same time.  I had to give her two showers in the middle of the night when she seemed almost too weak to stand.  We went back down the stairs as I supported her. 

               My sweetheart, Annalise, had learned the drill by now. She would go to the bathroom, throw up in the toilet, flush the toilet, rinse out her mouth, collapse in the floor, and fall asleep immediately until the next wave hit her.  I lay anguishing and praying, “Jesus, have mercy on my sweet girl.  Touch her and heal her!” 

               It felt like torture to me!  I knew it must be food poisoning or a very powerful bug, and her body was doing what was necessary to heal.  If I had been a new mom, I would have been consumed with worry. 

Being experienced nursing sick children, I have learned several important truths:

my children always recover,

the sickness always lasts longer than I think it should,

even so, the sickness is always over in a very short time.

I have also learned to listen to the Holy Spirit.

I could hear Him whisper, “It is well.  Be at peace.”

               By morning, I had lost count of how many times Annalise had vomited, but it was at least 22.  I have never seen a child of mine get sick like that before!  Annalise never showed any signs of being severely dehydrated (such as no tears in her eyes or saliva in her mouth), and I knew the best place for her was resting peacefully at home. We both slept for a few hours, and I didn’t even get up to make Chris’s sandwich before work. I slept through all the normal morning activities.

               Finally, Annalise sat up and begged for water. “This is a good sign!  Perhaps she is better!”

               It is so important to not give water or food too soon after throwing up, so I was cautious.  Annalise gulped down the tiny bit of water I gave her.  The next half an hour was filled with her tired little voice, “Can I have more water now? Is it time now? Please!”

               After half an hour, I relented and gave her some more, and then more. She seemed fine, so I gave her some more. My heart sank when I heard her in the bathroom, violently getting rid of all the water she just drank.

               “Ok this is getting serious! Time for battle!”

               I began to bind and loose and command and decree!  I made essential oil roller bottles to rub on her belly and feet.  I gave her Epsom salt baths to detox and rehydrate her.

               Annalise did not throw up again!  Praise God!

  She slept for a few hours.  She was thirsty when she woke up, so I followed the advice I had read in Mommy Diagnostics.  I made some ginger tea and only gave her a few teaspoons every half an hour.  Her stomach had shrunk and couldn’t handle anything more.  By bedtime we had finished the cup of tea.  I continued the essential oils all day. 

She slept peacefully in her bed the entire night!

               The next day she was so hungry yet didn’t want to eat anything.  I convinced her to drink a little bone broth which gave her nourishment in a very digestible form.  She ate tiny bits of food throughout the day and was just fine, other than being weak and exhausted. 

               By the next day she was still tired but starting to play in small bursts.  We had turned a corner! 

That night some of the children slept in our pop-up camper.  Cooper came into our room in the middle of the night to tell us that he had just thrown up.  He spent most of the night in the bathroom but thank God he was old enough to take care of himself.  He wasn’t as sick as Annalise had been, so by the morning his only symptom was exhaustion. 

               Then I found out that Aria, our three-year-old, had been snuggling with Cooper until he had gotten sick.

               “Jesus, don’t let her get sick!” I prayed. I wondered if this bug was going to go through the entire family and how long it would last.

               The following night Aria woke us and said, “It feels like there are bugs in my belly!”

               I got up as fast as I could and ushered her into the bathroom.  She was feverish and wore a grimace. 

               “Do you need to throw up?” I asked. “Here, let’s go to the toilet.”

               Three-year-olds don’t always know they are going to throw up before they do.  How was I going to manage all night with Aria?  We couldn’t go to the downstairs bathroom and sleep on the new carpet in the living room.  She would throw up all over it!  The only logical choice was to spend the night with her in the upstairs bathroom.  Even though it is a spacious bathroom, there is no place to lay down.  I tried to sit on a bath chair and hold her on my lap to comfort her, but that was anything but comfortable! Her long legs were hanging down awkwardly, her body was hot with fever, and she couldn’t stay still.

“The bugs in my belly are jumping!” Aria said. “My arms and legs hurt.” 

               This was followed by squirming and groaning, “Oh I wish this never happened to me,” she said with all the agony her cute three-year-old voice could muster.

               “This is not going to end well,” I thought to myself, anticipating vomit to explode from her little body at any moment. 

               “Jesus, please heal her!” I prayed.

               Aria insisted on getting back into her bed because she was so tired.  All my mothering instincts told me that this was a BAD idea.  I have scrubbed vomit off mattresses and carpets before, and I dreaded doing it again.  However, I didn’t have any better ideas, so I put her in her bed with a bowl right next to her.  I pulled out the trundle mattress and moved it out of the splash zone.  I lay down, anticipating another night like I had had with Annalise.

               Quiet descended upon the room as Aria fell asleep and her two sisters, miraculously, never woke up.  I lay thinking about Aria’s sadness and groaning in the bathroom.  I remembered what it felt like to have a stomach bug that attacks you with pangs of pain and nausea.  It will abate but then comes back again in earnest, threatening to take over your insides until you have very little control.  I hated that feeling!  I hated that Aria was having that feeling. I wished I could take that feeling for her.

Then I thought, “Jesus DID take the suffering for us!”

               During Holy Week I was listening to Give Him 15.  I was stuck by a description of the beating of Christ before the crucifixion. April 15, 2022 (givehim15.com)

This same description can be found in the Give Him 15 post for today (Good Friday 2023).

From Gethsemane, Messiah was led to a mock trial, after which He was beaten mercilessly with a cat-o-nine-tails. This procedure was so brutal that some recipients didn’t survive it. The leather cords, tipped with sharp metal, tore at the flesh of the victim ripping off pieces of flesh. They not only lacerated the back, but wrapped around to the front of the victim’s body, including the face. It is hard to describe this lashing without being too graphic for most readers. Suffice it to say that when finished, the victim was often unrecognizable.

The soldiers also beat Christ with their fists and spat on His face. To mock Him as “the King of the Jews,” a crown made of thorns was placed on His head and pressed into His skin, causing great pain and more loss of blood. When the ordeal was finished, Messiah was so mangled and covered with spittle and blood that He truly was unrecognizable. “Many people were shocked [astonished; appalled] when they saw him. His appearance was so damaged [disfigured; marred] He did not look like a man; His form was so changed they could barely tell He was human.” (Isaiah 52:14; The Expanded Bible) The added punishments and torture, much more than the average victim of crucifixion was afflicted with, can only be explained as the fury of hell, trying to snuff out the life of the Son of God.

Yeshua received this for you and me. Isaiah 53:5 and 1 Peter 2:24 tell us it was through this beating that we can be healed. Place your faith in this today. Receive healing by placing your faith in His substitutionary sacrifice.

Give Him 15

               I realized as never before how much pain, suffering and sorrow Jesus endured.  He endured it so I did not have to, so Aria did not have to.  Jesus hates pain too!  Jesus hates Aria’s pain more than I do!

               I prayed, “Jesus, you experienced this suffering already.  Why should Aria have to go through it? Please take her sickness.”

               I felt the presence of Jesus enter the room.  Peace surrounded me and my three girls.  None of the girls made a peep that entire night!  And in the morning, Aria woke up in perfect health. No fever! No aches! No bugs jumping in her belly!  That was a miracle!  No one else in our family got sick after that. The trial was over, and Jesus had shown me His miraculous healing power that comes from His great love for us.

Get up on Stage and Share a Word of Healing? Not Me!

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

I love the atmosphere at Life Center especially when it is packed with 800 women of faith, seeking God together.  Friday night of the 2022 Women’s Encounter was very powerful with worship, teaching, and every woman receiving a scripture.

               My scripture was Matt 16:19, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you forbid on earth will be forbidden in heaven, and whatever you permit on earth will be permitted in heaven.”

               I had long known this scripture and believed it…or thought I believed it.  I believed it in my head in a theological way.   This time when I read it, it felt like the Father God was speaking to me specifically, literally handing me the keys.

               “For me?! Really?” I responded.

               Then He reminded me of the scripture a friend had given me on my birthday.

Is 22:22, “And the Keys of the house of David shall be on his shoulder. What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open.”

               Again, I felt God hand me the keys, and it finally clicked in my Spirit. 

               I HAVE THE KEYS!!!

               That night I was on the ministry team.  One woman told me of the serious, chronic effects of Lyme disease on her body.  She was so sweet and cheerful. I took those keys the best I knew how and forbid the disease and effects to remain in her body and released health and life.

               Later, I saw a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time and learned that she was still struggling with Lyme disease.  Being a young mother with many children and a husband who worked long hours, I didn’t understand how she coped with it.  She was a hero in my eyes, and I used those keys again to pray for her, to bind and loose.

               The next morning, as I was preparing for the final day of the Women’s Encounter, I began to pray for those women.  I wanted to see them healed, to see their suffering ended, to see them free!  I was singing and praying in the shower and I found myself singing,

“The voice of the Lord will cause infections to turn around and flee!” 

               I sang it repeatedly, full of faith.  I thought perhaps this was a word from the LORD that He wanted me to share during the conference.  I thought sure there was a scripture that would match, but I just couldn’t find it.  If I couldn’t back it up with scripture, perhaps it wasn’t a word from the Lord… exactly. I began to think that I shouldn’t share from the stage and felt relief from the nervousness that had descended upon me.

               I found my seat in the sanctuary and felt peace. The service began with the lovely MC, Sam, reading out a scripture that had been texted to her that morning, Ps 68:11-12.

               “The Lord gives the command; a great company of women proclaim it: Kings and their armies flee in haste; she who waits at home divides the plunder.”

               The verses hit me with an uncommon power as if God was saying, “You need a scripture? Here it is.”

               I knew for certain that He wanted me to give the word.  Inside I started to tremble with fear. I sat in my seat during worship and wrestled with myself and God. So stupid to do that, right? Why not just obey immediately and wholeheartedly? Why?!  Because I couldn’t possibly walk up on the stage and give a word of healing.  I had not actually prayed for someone and witnessed a miraculous healing. 

Who was I to do such a thing?

               The following interaction with God was one of the more humorous ones in my life.  He cleared His throat and simply nodded with His head toward two images that had popped into my head.  First was of the scripture I had received that night before, my subsequent commitment to believe it, and the keys that were now in my hands.  Second was the verse on my mirror at home that read, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”.  I couldn’t use my weakness as an excuse. It was His strength and not mine after all.

               “OK Dad, I CAN technically do this…but I really don’t want to,” I answered.

               Soon I realized, “I must do this.  My Father is telling me to do this, and I cannot disobey. I can try at least.  If it doesn’t work out, doesn’t fit in the schedule, or doesn’t go along with what the leaders are getting from the Holy Spirit, at least I can try.”  

               Then I contemplated the best way to go about it.              

               “I need to ask the leadership who are all the way up front.” 

               I remained in my seat for a few fearful moments, trying to work out what I should say. Then I started walking.  I ran into two friends and talked for a few minutes, all the while thinking, “Worship is going to end soon, and then I will lose my chance, and this will get really awkward.”

               Finally I made it up to the Lovely MC and told her, “I think God has given me a word of healing.”

               She said, “Let me go ask Marcey.”

               She returned in a moment and handed me the microphone and said, “Go for it!”

               I grabbed the microphone, made sure it was on, and marched up on stage, not knowing what to do.  I think God worked it out, because the band was just playing music, no words were being sung.  The worship leader was playing the keyboard with her eyes closed.  I tapped her shoulder and said, “I have a word” while slightly lifting the microphone, and she nodded.

               I stood in front of the hundreds of women and God took over and spoke through me.  I am not 100% sure exactly what I said, but it felt like God, it felt like faith, it felt like power. It went something like this.

               “I think God wants to heal Lyme disease.  I prayed for two beautiful women last night who are suffering the effects of Lyme disease.  I so want them to be healed. I was praying about it again this morning and I heard God say, ‘The voice of the LORD will cause these infections to turn around and flee.’  Then Sam shared Ps 68. ‘The LORD gives the word and great is the company of women who proclaim it.’

               “We are that great company of women!  God’s words are in your mouth, and you can speak the word of the Lord to yourself and to the women around you.  The word of the Lord is in my mouth. ‘Kings and armies will flee before us!’

               “So I speak the word of the LORD – Lyme disease, all infections- viral, bacterial, fungal, COVID – you must turn around and flee right now.  I speak health and life to every body.  Shalom, peace to every person here and to our families and those who are at home.  Life and health in Jesus’ name!”

               The women in the sanctuary were getting excited and praying and shouting with me.  It felt like a God moment!  I quickly walked off the stage and handed the microphone back to Sam.  She hugged me and said, “Thank you!”  Another dear friend hugged me and said, “Good job girl.”

               On my way back to my seat, a woman pulled me aside and told me that her daughter had Lyme disease and it was awful.  It was very loud in the sanctuary, so I asked the mother and daughter to come out to the lobby. I prayed for the young woman; prayers fueled by the faith of our shared God moment.  Prayers that she would have a long and exciting life ahead of her without disease.  She would have energy and strength again and soar like an eagle.

               Later during the ministry time a dear friend shared with me that she had been suffering with the after effects of COVID.  Her uncle told her she would never be free from it. When she heard me begin to talk on stage she prayed, “Let her say COVID. Let her say COVID. Let her say COVID.”

When I did, tears began to stream down her face, and she felt hope rise within her like it hadn’t done in a long time.

               I was humbled that God would use my voice to rekindle her hope.  Hope I didn’t even know she needed, because I didn’t know what she had been dealing with.

I realized that because I was willing to make my personal prayer time with God public, God could multiply the impact.

A year later this friend has told me that almost all the after effects of COVID have left her body.

               What seems like a scary leap of faith for me is easy for God! To rekindle healing, life, peace, and hope is what He always does.

How God Encountered Me at the 2022 Women’s Encounter

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

My church, Life Center Ministries International, does something wonderful every spring. 

It is called “The Women’s Encounter” because it is not just a conference but an experience of God’s love.  From the lovely decorations to the friendly faces all around, God’s love is evident.  Each year the attendees receive a word, a scripture, a gift, teaching, and personal prayer.   

Last year’s Encounter was called “The Garden.” 

Many women from Life Center came to the stage to share stories; essentially their spiritual seeds, refreshing water, aromatic herbs, and stunning bouquets of flowers. Each one uniquely displayed the goodness of God, and I felt unable to fully absorb the richness of it all.

I would like to share four of my God Encounters.

1.My word was “Rekindle”.

I loved that word!  I pictured a rekindled fire in my heart; more love, more passion. Later in the year the word took on a deeper meaning when my husband and I were planning a romantic beach getaway.  I was praying about it in July and God gave me a scripture, 1 Samuel 2:8-10. The Message states verse 8 like this;

“He puts poor people on their feet again; he rekindles burned-out lives with fresh hope; restoring dignity and respect to their lives – a place in the sun!”

As our retreat approached, Chris and I decided that we would spend some of our trip writing down our visions and dreams for the future.  In 2013 I had started a dream journal where I recorded 171 dreams that I believed God would fulfill.  Years of disappointment caused me to put that journal on the shelf and not opened it again.  It felt much safer to leave it alone and spend my energies on the challenges of the present.  But now I felt God asking me to revisit a few of those dreams, and it was much more painful than I thought it would be. 

At the beach, with the cold and windswept ocean outside the window, we started to type our “Family Vision”.   I had a vivid dream that night that I named, “House of Hospitality” in my journal.  I didn’t quite understand it, but since then God has been showing me the peace and beauty of His vision for my life. 

Since our trip in October, I have felt a rekindling of my dreams and a fresh hope overtake the burned-out parts of my life. I took my dream journal out again and started fresh with the title “Reawakening Dreams 2022.”

2. At the 2022 Women’s Encounter I received a scripture, Matt16:19

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

This was a confirmation of a scripture I had received from a friend for my birthday which just happened to be 2/22/22 last year.  Is 22:22 (ESV)

“And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David. He shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open.”

I was deeply impacted by these two verses and used them as my guide throughout the year as I took more authority in prayer.

3. I was on the ministry team and had two opportunities to pray for all the women who stood before me. 

This was my favorite part! I could feel God’s overwhelming love for each of His daughters, some I knew and others I had never met.  I was blessed by their stories and sweet spirits. I could feel Jesus fill my mouth with the prayers He was praying and the words He was speaking over them.

4. One of the most amazing God encounters during the 2022 Women’s Encounter actually happened in my home after the conference was over. 

But it all started when Anne Stock was on stage the day before talking about the higher ways of our Master Gardener.  She referenced the parable in Matthew 20 where the workers hired at the end of the day were paid the same wage as those who had been hired at the beginning of the day.  I had always felt so thankful that the last would get the same reward as the first, because I considered myself part of the last generation who would see Jesus return to the earth.  How amazing that I would receive the same reward from Him as those who had lived in previous generations but had never seen the fulfillment of so many promises!

In Anne’s sweet and wise way, she reframed this parable in a context I had never considered. Those who were not hired until later were not late in coming to the market place, nor were they lazy and not wanting to work.  They were waiting in faith at the marketplace the whole day. They were expecting to be hired, they wanted to be hired, but it appeared as though they had been passed over.  Anne said something like this, “The woman who has 10 children and has been living in her calling this whole time, you who have been waiting for a baby – you get the same reward.”

A friend sitting next to me poked me in the shoulder and gave me a knowing look, probably because I have 10 children. 

“Was Anne thinking of me when she said that?” I thought to myself while feeling vaguely unsettled.  I had never considered myself the one who had been hired first and the thought seemed a bit unfair. I quickly forgot about it as I engaged in the rest of the conference.

The next morning, I woke up early with a headache.  I went to take a shower and have my praise and worship session with God. I began to sing out Matt 11:28-30 in the Message:

“Are you tired? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

I had chosen that scripture to post on my mirror because I thought my husband could really use it.  He had seemed burned out lately.  When I sang, “I will never lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you” I began to cry with unforeseen, deep sorrow.  Immediately I remembered the reference to a woman of 10 children working through the heat of the day from Anne’s talk the previous day.  Like a movie, memories began to play through my mind.  Memories of my early days of mothering.  Hard days.  Impossible days.  I felt alone and overwhelmed.  I felt like a failure.  So much physical and emotional work during the heat of the day.  No good support network.  Religious pressure to “be a good wife and mother” and not act like I was dying, not ask for help.  Not receiving help when I finally asked. 

I hadn’t felt the pain of those days in many years. I had forgotten that what it felt like.  I didn’t realize that I still carried it.

Through my stifled sobs, Jesus was telling me that He had never laid anything heavy or ill-fitting on me.  Not even on my most impossible day. 

I had taken the heavy yoke upon myself by making myself a victim, not believing His words, believing the lies, and accepting the pressure the enemy put on me. I asked God to forgive me for carrying my blessings like they were burdens.  I forgave all the friends and family who could have helped but didn’t.  I thanked God for all the help that I did receive.  I thanked Him for enabling me to dig a trench in the isolated desert that He could fill with His grace.  I thanked Him for grace on top of grace on top of grace.

I felt His presence washing away the pain and exhaustion of that season and taking away my fear of that season returning.  I heard Him gently say, “You never have to go back to carrying the heavy load through the heat of the day.  Take my light burden today and every day.  You are now heading toward the cool of the evening.”

I felt healed and refreshed and my headache suddenly disappeared.  This intense work of the spirit only took about 10 minutes.  I hadn’t expected it or asked for it, but the overwhelming goodness of Jesus had encountered me. I felt it a privilege rather than a burden to be allowed to enter so early into my calling to raise 10 children, 24 years ago.  And I am not nearly done yet. I have at least 14 more years with children in my home, and I am so happy about it! The first shall be last and the last shall be first, and I am so blessed to abide in Jesus wherever I end up in the line.  What a beautiful “Garden” of His presence He has created for me!

I know that I will find Him in unexpected ways in the midst of the “Waves”, The Women’s Encounter March 24-25, 2023.

Thoughts of a Mother of a Special Needs Adult

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

Ashlyn has been an adult for a year now.  I am not sure how I feel about it.  When she was little enough to be carried, her intellectual and physical disabilities were not a big deal.  I hoped that each year would bring new accomplishments and new abilities. I believed that someday her body would straighten and strengthen, that her brain would catch up, and that she could attend a normal class at school.

               I did everything I could to help these dreams come to pass with research, healthy living, and therapies.  We had some breakthroughs, but as she got older, the gap between Ashlyn and her “normal” peers widened.  You can read about our journey in, “An Answer for the Guilt of Motherhood.”

She developed a progressive club foot deformity and needed surgery to walk.  To read the entire story click here and to see the one-year update after surgery, click here.

               A brachiation ladder in the form of a walking track was a beacon of hope to me.  Ashlyn used it to walk upright on her own for most of her childhood.

I thought it would help her feet flatten and her back straighten, but they continued to get worse.  In 2018, Ashlyn had a spinal fusion surgery because her scoliosis had progressed.  She did wonderfully with the surgery and the results were amazing!

Again, I thought that the walking track would help straighten and strengthen her muscles. In 2021 we had to move the walking track out of our living room for a remodel. I wasn’t ready to give up the hope that walking track had given me; that Ashlyn would walk on her own someday, that she would even run!

We moved the walking track outside so Ashlyn could still use it.  She rarely did.  She never wanted to.  I felt guilty for not forcing her to do it as part of our daily routine, but the truth was, walking was becoming less and less beneficial to her.  Her feet had continued to turn after her surgery, and her braces hurt them if she walked too much.  Her toes pointed inward, and her knees rubbed together unnaturally. Her back was not as straight as initially after the spinal fusion, and she would habitually hunch over and lean to the left.

Night before surgery
11 days after surgery
2 1/2 years after surgery

I gave up hope that the walking track would help her walk.  Each passing year brought a slight increase in her disabilities.  She was gaining weight but not gaining muscle.  Her gait and her posture could no longer be corrected by outside forces.  Her mobility was so dysfunctional. It gave her a measure of independence: walking with a walker for short distances or crawling around the house.

She now reminds me of my mom who lives in assisted living and who won’t move an inch without her walker; except that Mom is in her golden years and Ashlyn is just starting her adult life!  If Ashlyn has such problems now, what will her body be like in 10 years, in 30 years?

I finally told Chris that he could take down the walking track and use the wood for other purposes.

I grieved that day.  I grieved the loss of my dream.  I grieved for my daughter who has not been healed. I grieved for her twisted, painful body. I grieved for her mind that understands some but not all.  I grieved for her past, all that could have been done differently that may have made a difference.  I grieved for her present.  I grieved for her future.

               In this season of mourning, there was a new beginning!

               It happened that the children’s playset broke at that same time.  Chris had an idea to fulfill another long-time dream of mine.  He and our sons took the wood and created a garden!

A garden!  I felt so loved.  New life!  Growing and thriving things!  I was amazed by how quickly everything grew in the untested soil of my backyard.

Problem after problem began to pop up, and each one sent me into a downward spiral of dismal imaginations.  First the delicate, pink climbing roses developed powdery mildew.  (I had discovered the roses on the side of the road, and I dug them up and replanted them in my garden.  I smiled to myself while I was doing it, because my Grammy had loved plants so much, she would dig them up all over the US and take them back to her home in Wisconsin.  She did have one of the prettiest yards in the city of Wausau!) I didn’t know what powdery mildew was at first, not until I had to cut the roses to the ground.  I worried that my inexperience would lead to the demise of the beautiful clematis plant given to me by a friend.  I was imagining a garden that was white, powdery, and dead.

Thankfully no other plant was affected by the blight, and I learned how to deal with it. Next came that snap peas that took turns becoming brown and shriveled.  I imagined it was bacterial wilt, and I because I didn’t pull them out immediately, my beautiful but somewhat wilted tomato plants had become infected and would be a complete loss.  Then I learned from my more experienced neighbor that the time for snap peas had passed.

The garden kept growing and the lettuce was wonderful!  Fresh salad from the garden felt like the most luxurious of pleasures.

What a tragedy that lettuce won’t grow all through the summer, but ready to take over in dominance were the tomatoes and cucumbers.  Nothing can compare to a homegrown tomato, and I ate some every day.

Only the cherry tomato plant produced well.  The other two plants grew lots of tomatoes but few that were good to eat.  I let them grow too wild and had a jungle by the end of summer.

We are a family of cucumber lovers, and the garden couldn’t produce them fast enough despite the abundance of seeds I had sown.  Perhaps I had too many plants too close together, or perhaps the soil wasn’t right.  They sure looked lovely though!

Soon, the leaves began to turn yellow and wilt.  I found the dreaded garden pest, the cucumber beetle, every time I inspected the leaves and flowers.  My neighbor had told me that I should kill them because they could carry bacterial wilt to the rest of the plants.  I imagined my garden languishing under their reign of terror.  Worse yet, I imagined my neighbor’s thriving garden being attacked by beetles that my plants had harbored.  I felt responsible for the carnage that was about to be unleashed…but never actually came. 

Again, I was overreacting.  Someone else told me that the yellow color was caused by the lantern flies, and if I sprayed the plants day and night with soap water, they would leave.  This did seem to help, but soon the cucumber plants were past their prime and I had to pull them out.  That left more sunshine for the cone flowers and evening primrose. They stopped producing blooms early in the season and never came back.  Perhaps next year I will not plant cucumber in front of them and they will be happier.

My pepper plants also had more sun, even though summer was fleeting, and they didn’t grow as large or colorful as they should have.  Still, I enjoyed every, last one of them. 

It was a successful first season, and I learned so many things that will make my garden better next year. Now it is frozen and barren, but hope is burning under the ground. 

Hope of spring, hope of new seeds, hope of new life in the next season.

What does all of this have to do with Ashlyn? I will not entertain my exaggerated, miserable thoughts of the future!  I will believe in God’s goodness! Hope is burning in my heart, under the surface.  Hope to sustain me through this day, this season.  My hope is Jesus.

Ashlyn is a senior this year.  I don’t know how to graduate her from home school, but it is going to happen!  She has been learning more each year, although she cannot read or do simple math.  She remembers so many facts that we have studied, yet she often refuses to give answers. She enjoys time with friends and family yet gets nervous in social situations.

She needed to get an ID when she turned 18.  She behaved very well at the DMV and could sign her own name!  I felt so proud!

Ashlyn’s braces that help her to stand and walk began rubbing on one of her ankle bones.  Finally, it was so painful that she couldn’t wear the braces anymore.  She had to crawl everywhere she wanted to go, which is what she prefers to do anyway.  I took her to a new foot doctor who was highly recommended. I was very underwhelmed with the experience.  After a brief look at the x-ray and a glance at her foot, he was ready to sign her up for another surgery (which is probably the only long-term option).

I am not ready to take her through another surgery!  We simply had new braces made and are hoping this will allow her to walk without pain.  She must always build up her endurance to new braces, but she can almost wear them fulltime now.

The doctor did give her a referral to Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation. The doctor there was wonderful, and I left the appointment with the stirrings of hope growing in my heart.  She did what every parent of a special needs child NEEDS a doctor to do.

  1. Listen with interest and compassion while we tell our child’s medical history and story.
  2. Approach our child with kindness and respect.
  3. Look at our child’s body as a whole unit, observing how each part effects every other part.
  4. Give us small, defined measures that we can take to improve the situation.

We left with some targeted exercises and some encouragement!

Someday Ashlyn’s body will be healed.  Someday she will be free.  Now she only sees in part, but someday she will perceive it all.  I don’t know when or how, but Ashlyn will have wholeness in her body, soul, and spirit.  Although her quirky habits and ways of speaking can be wearing on our nerves, and her disabilities can be shackles on our freedoms, I seek to value her as God does.  She is perceptive, caring, peaceful, and content (most of the time). She is a JOY!

I can hear Jesus saying in Luke 14:12-14, “When you put on a dinner, don’t invite friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors! For they will return the invitation. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Then at the resurrection of the godly, God will reward you for inviting those who can’t repay you.”

I catch glimpses of how precious Ashlyn is to Jesus. With His love, I try to love her well each day.  Each day I feel like I fail, but God rushes in! In the future when Ashlyn is whole, I can look into her knowing eyes and say, “I loved you the best that I was able.  And I trusted God with all the rest.”

 A Family Vacation that Turned into a Treasure Hunt

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

God did it again!  He performed the yearly miracle called our family vacation. Before 2017, vacations were very rare for us. Just surviving the day and putting food on the table was the priority. It didn’t seem like we could afford for Chris to take off work or pay for a vacation rental. We didn’t think to ask God to provide for a family getaway.

               Finally in 2017 I decided to ask God in prayer.  We had no possible way to make it happen, but God did!  He gave us a few days in a house up north. What an amazing time we had!  We returned to that cabin again the next year and started the tradition of naming our rental homes.

The first was the “Stinky Cabin” because of the musty smell.

The second was the “Cold Cabin” because the heat in the old farmhouse didn’t reach all of the rooms. 

The third was the “Star Cabin” because there were over 50 stars that decorated the place.

The fourth was the “Cow Cabin” because we shared the property with a herd of cows.

The memory of each has become so dear, and the faithful words of God so precious.

               This September we received a free week at a real log cabin, and I thought sure it would be known as the “Cabin Cabin.”

I underestimated all that God had planned.

               We traveled up north with two vehicles, 11 people, and a mountain of “essential” provisions.  We were very excited when we saw the lovely, secluded cabin with a pond.  We all went to bed dreaming of the coming adventures. 

               I woke up in the night.  It was incredibly quiet in the woods with only the insect songs and the soft wind in the trees…until an unearthly howling began.  In my sleepy stupor, I couldn’t imagine what it was.  More and more voices joined in. My mind began to conjure genetically enhanced, alien coyotes having a secret round table deep in the woods, plotting the destruction of all who trespassed on their domain.  I shuttered and was grateful that the boys hadn’t slept outside in their tent! 

               A fear plagued me all night.   Yes, the howling mutants were creepy, but I had a much bigger concern: the thought of one of my precious little ones disappearing into the murky water of the pond.  I had learned a lot about fear and spiritual warfare at the “Cow Cabin” last year.  This year, I was still working through the irrational fear that one of my children would drown, and that this idyllic vacation would turn into a tragedy.

               The next morning dawned with hope, sunny and beautiful.  My girls had found some “treasure” in a drawer in the living room.  They were very excited about the plastic gold and jewels.

Aria said to me, “We should call this the ‘Treasure Cabin.’” 

Their older brother, Chai, made a treasure map for them to find the treasure all over again. 

“How sweet!” I thought.

My plan was to bask in the warm sunshine and just relax, read, and rest. I began with Ephesians and read it one verse at a time. I allowed each verse to marinate my body, soul, and spirit in divine revelation before I moved on to the next. 

When I got to Eph 1:3 “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places,” I knew this was in a God set up.  As I continued to read verse after verse about riches and blessings, I knew that God had designed this vacation for treasure, not tragedy! 

I spent all morning mining the treasure found in the first three chapters of Ephesians.

  1. Being Spotless and Blameless (1:4)
  2. Being predestined for Adoptions as sons (1:5)
  3. Riches of His glorious Grace (1:6, 1:7, 2:8)
  4. Redemption and Forgiveness (1:7, 2:5)
  5. Knowing the mystery of His will, the Gentiles are fellow heirs (1:9, 3:6)
  6. Riches of our glorious Inheritance (1:18)
  7. Holy Spirit, the guarantee of our inheritance (1:13,14)
  8. The Spirit of Wisdom and Revelation to enlighten our hearts (1:17)
  9. Hope (1:18)
  10. Immeasurable greatness of His Power toward us (1:19, 3:16-17, 3:20)
  11. The Church (1:22-23, 2:2-21, 3:10)
  12. Good Works that He prepared in advance for us (2:10)
  13. Peace (2:14)
  14. Boldness (3:12)
  15. Love (3:17-19)

I was so overwhelmed by God’s goodness and knew that our vacation week would be full of beautiful surprises. The howl of mutant coyotes ceased to echo through the valley, and I counted 73 treasures that came from God’s loving hand.  Here are just a few.

Eating meals outside

Misty mornings overlooking the lake

Sunsets on the porch

Family fun at the pond

Watkins Glen’s Gorge Trail (the prettiest trail I have ever hiked!)

PA Grand Canyon

The best chicken fajitas ever

Treasure Chest store where I found the blue and white frames I had been looking for

Country Haven Treasures where I found the blue and white birds I had been searching for

Kidsgrove in Selinsgrove (the biggest and coolest playground ever!)

Among the treasure were simple, everyday moments that I would have missed if I wasn’t looking for them such as:

Chai showing Aria how to play T-ball with patience and kindness

Finding salamanders

Belly laughing

Soft words of affirmation from my husband

The Veggie Vendor along the road to the cabin

Weathervanes

Green grass, green trees, yellow flowers

Cadin making Ashlyn giggle

Ping Pong

Stony Fork Country store which sold raw milk, cheese curds, and $1 whoopie pies

Eating massive steaks that Cooper bought

Coming home

Chris doing laundry until every load was done

This year’s vacation rental will be remembered as the “Treasure Cabin”, and I am so thankful for all that God showed me there!

During this Christmas season, when our thoughts revolve around gift giving, I would like to remind you that the treasures of Ephesians are always with us as well as the simple treasures hidden in the common place routines.

For all who are battle weary and stressed

Remember this day is a GIFT, not a test.

Not an exam you are destined to fail,

Nor a trial that mocks, “You will not prevail!”

This day is a gift from His loving heart,

A grand adventure – you have a part.

How He desires to see wonder in your eyes

As you joyfully discover each sacred surprise.

Treasure map in hand, begin with thanks and praise,

Continue by abiding in His LOVE and …remain.

Enlighten the eyes of our hearts, LORD, to see

The Hope, the Power, and the Riches of our family tree.

What surpasses all knowledge, allow us to own.

The matchless Love of Christ in us have a home.

Homeschool Evaluations Completed! Then Why do I Feel Like Such a Failure?

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

The end of this school year was awful!  It was not what I had wanted it to be, and I felt like a failure.

I was homeschooling two elementary students and my special needs daughter with my preschooler always present.  I also had a son catching the bus early to a private school, plus a middle schooler and a high schooler doing cyber at home, plus two adult children going in and out. 

                I love being home with my children and I enjoy homeschooling. I am thrilled to investigate new wonders or to travel to storybook worlds with my children. My joy is complete when they are thrilled right along with me!

                We started in the early summer, so we took our laid-back time.  We enjoyed field trips, reading books, and doing whatever we wanted. How I adored homeschooling then!

                In the fall we settled into a good routine with the Pledge of Allegiance, prayers, Bible reading, flashcards, workbooks, and reading out loud to each other. The children were excited to have new workbooks, and they worked happily beyond what I assigned each day.

                However, as the year went on, we got a little tired.  I should say that I felt exhausted, and the children felt bored.  We took a break from the normal routine for Christmas and studied Swedish customs, food, and Kristen, an American Girl from Sweden.  In early spring I took a week and a half off, hoping that I would regain my joy and strength.

                The problem was life kept on going with all the same errands and doctors’ appointments to attend to.  I love being at home with the children.  I despise giving up that time to get the necessary things done.  Somehow, I had scheduled more appointments than usual right before our evaluations this year.  Other events popped up and accomplishing days toward our required 180 became like feats of great strength.

                “It will be fine.  It always works out,” I kept telling myself. 

Still, I felt so overwhelmed that some moments I could hardly remember the next thing I should be accomplishing. A wild mob of other tasks were on my calendar and on my mind, taunting me ruthlessly.  Every time I had to leave the children with their workbooks to tackle another pressing concern, I felt like a failure.

                “This is not what homeschooling is about!” I would lament. “It is not about workbooks and crossing off days.  It is about a love for learning, a love for God and each other.”

                The love was growing cold.  I was stressed out and my children were noticing.  My children were not excited about school anymore and I was noticing.  Were they learning anything at all?  What about that travel video I wanted to watch with them that we never got to?  Had they remembered all the states in the US, or had they forgotten them already?  Annalise just flew through her 1 grade math, but why couldn’t she remember her addition facts?   Was school doing any good for Ashlyn as she remains at a preschool level year after year, or should I just graduate her already and admit defeat? 

                These questions were plaguing me one morning, about a week away from our evaluations.  I felt like a horrible teacher and a very un-fun mom.  Courage (who was completing 3rd grade) turned to me and said, “You’re the best mom ever!”

                He had been saying this a lot lately.  He had even taken up the habit of making it a song, “You’re the best mom ever!”  He would sing out raucous notes while bounding through the house.  I hadn’t given it much thought other than, “How am I supposed to think around here?”

                But just then I stopped and let the moment sink into me.  Courage truly thought I was the best mom ever.  He was sitting next to me smiling and hugging me ferociously, and I finally just relaxed and received it.

                I felt the Holy spirit Remind me, “You are not a failure.  Your children love you. And they love me. What could be more important than that?”

                As I began compiling all the homeschool logs and workbooks and writings and field trip pictures, I began to remember the joy again.

The Joy of exploring Virginia for the first time on vacation.

The joy of butterflies and kids’ games in the sunshine at Paulus Orchard.

The joy of listening to Dr. Dolittle on CD for the first time, and then the second, third, fourth….

The joy of learning about the ocean and then taking our very first family beach day.

The joy of celebrating Santa Lucia day with our own Annalise as Santa Lucia.

                I was still feeling nervous about the evaluation.  We really hadn’t accomplished very much in my mind.  No large projects or epic masterpieces.  But as our sweet, wonderful evaluator looked over our logs she said, “My, you have been busy this year, haven’t you?”

                It was a busy year!  But only what was done in love had any value.  As I look back, I can say that MOST was love.  Perhaps next year ALL can be love and joy! 

                I figure I have a month to soak in summer and God’s loving kindness before I need to plan and begin again.  Perhaps I will feel so refreshed that I will finally be able to write that article that was alive and active in me two years, “I was a Homeschool Dropout, what I learned that allowed me to begin again with joy.”

                Blessings to all you homeschool moms!  Your love and faith are never in vain, and you are not a failure!

Why I Believe that Life Begins at Conception

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

A friend asked me why I believed that life begins at conception.  She honestly wanted to understand why I had such a problem with abortion.  How could I express to her a lifetime of experiences, conversations, encounters with God, research, reading, and studying? Here is my attempt.

There are four main reasons why life begins at conception.

  1. Science says that Life begins at conception. Check out my article, Science Testifies that Life Begins at Conception
  2. The Bible honors life in the womb and does not differentiate between a baby in the womb and a baby that has already been born. Check out my article, What does the Bible Tell us about the Unborn Human?
  3. Abortion in its essence is evil.  It is murder for babies, bad for women, bad for families, and bad for society in general.  I explore all of this in my article, My Experiences with the Reality of Abortion. It is clear to me that the Devil, who comes only to kill, steal, and destroy, is the author and perpetuator of abortion.  The lie that life does not start at conception violates science and the Bible and is designed to cause a moral society to accept it.
  4. My own life experiences confirm that life begins at conception.

                I was always against abortion as soon as I knew there was such a thing.  My convictions deepened after I had an amazing salvation experience at age 14.  After High School I attended school at YWAM Tyler and began to discover the realities of abortion.

A year after YWAM, Chris and I got married.  Two years after that I conceived our first child. 

My first ultrasound was at 18 weeks.  At a certain moment the baby inside me turned her face and the tech took a picture.  When I looked at the picture of the skull, I saw a daughter although the tech could not determine the gender.  I felt as if I knew that tiny person, and I loved her so much.  She probably could not have survived out of my womb at that point, but her heart was beating, she was growing big and strong, and I knew her.  How much more was she recognized by God who knew her before she was conceived and who set her apart in my womb (Jer 1:5).  I knew that my daughter was chosen by God even before He created the world (Eph 1:4). 

I knew that her life was a dream in His heart, and He was so excited to get Chris and I together so He could begin the fun work of making her. 

I had two more babies (boys) after my firstborn girl.  During each pregnancy, God gave us powerful names for each child and spoke to us about his personality and purpose. We became a happy family of 5.

 Then one day I felt an odd sensation.  It felt as though I was not alone even though it was just me in the room.  I sensed that a new spirit had arrived on the scene.  I placed a hand on my belly and wondered, “Could I be pregnant again?”  It was too early in my cycle to be able to take a pregnancy test.  But I could usually tell the exact day that I ovulated, and that had occurred already.  It can take a fertilized egg 5 to 10 days to actually implant in the uterus and start releasing the pregnancy hormone.

Yet I was curious if my feeling was correct, so I asked God, “Am I pregnant?”

He gave me this verse, “I will bring forth descendants from Jacob, and from Judah, those who will possess my mountains; my chosen people will inherit them, and there will my servants live.” (Is 65:9) 

I knew that I was pregnant, and that this child had a destiny.  This child was going to possess mountains!

Pretty soon I was able to confirm my feeling with a pregnancy test.  When my fourth child was born, a daughter, she was special.  She had dysmorphic features and some internal abnormalities. It wasn’t until 6 weeks later that the chromosomal analysis came back showing she had a rearrangement and deletion in her 6th chromosome.  The scripture that God had given me just days after her conception gave me hope.  He knew my daughter would be special (broken and handicapped by the world’s standards) and He had already given her a destiny. 

This is one of the main reasons I believe that life begins at conception – my daughter Ashlyn.

Most babies like her never make it out of the womb alive these days.  In this country 80% of Down syndrome babies are aborted, almost 100% in other countries. 

Each pregnancy and birth after Ashlyn just confirmed to me that life begins at conception.

Pregnancy number 5 was plagued at first with worries about having another child with a chromosomal abnormality. As the baby grew, peace began to overtake fear. God gave us a name for this child, “Chai Eric” which means, “Healthy and Powerful.” Chai has turned out to be smart and extremely athletic, seeming to have weightlifters’ muscles and power even as a very young boy.

Baby in the womb #6 also had a very powerful name which was such an encouragement to me long before he was born. This “clump of cells” was a man of destiny in seed form. How thankful we are for Cooper!

During the Christmas season of 2008 I was pregnant with my 7th child.  I was in my first trimester and feeling awful. 

Yet I was still able to write, “I can see each child standing before the throne of God.  I see Jesus embracing each one and calling him or her his friend.  I see their reward for the spoils they took from the enemy.  I know that their reward is my legacy.” 

I was talking about the 6 children decorating the tree, the tiny baby in my belly, and any other children that God had for me in the future.

The first trimester of my eighth pregnancy proved to be even harder than the 7th. I wrote all about it in an article, “God Needs Me?”

“The question I kept asking was, “Is this worth it?” and I knew that it was.  A new life is always worth it.  After a mother is holding that precious bundle, her sorrow is turned into joy.

Then the question became, “How much is a human life worth?  How much pain and sorrow is one life worth?  How much would I suffer for one human life?  Would I get pregnant and do this all again for one more human life?  How much is a life worth to God?  How much suffering did Jesus endure?”

The only conclusion I could come to was this; one human life is worth IT ALL! 

There is no limit to the value God puts on a life, no price too high to pay, no suffering to severe.  Jesus suffered more than any of us…He said that his suffering was worth it because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) That joy was human life, redeemed and set free.  He said that I am worth it.  He said that you are worth it.  He said that the child in my womb was worth it.

Then I heard God’s loving voice.

“Thank you for being available.  Without you, I couldn’t bring this child of destiny into the world.”

God was calling my tiny baby a “child of destiny” and he was younger than 14 weeks.  Now that I have him, a big 9-year-old named Courage Justice, I can tell you that he was definitely worth it!

When I was pregnant with number 8 and we had already named her Annalise Promise, I started having some spotting.  Fear and dread rose up within me.  What if I lost her?  What if she didn’t make it?  As her name suggests, her life was a symbol of the Promises of God to us. I knew that her life was precious and I would have done anything to protect her.  Mothers who have miscarried even very early in the pregnancy, mourn the loss of a life. Fathers and brothers and sisters and grandparents mourn too.  Thankfully our Annalise Promise is now a stunning 7 year old!

                Over the years I have gotten to know a prayer counselor at our church.  She does a class called, “Blessing Babies in the Womb.”  It is full of scriptures and stories of her experiences that affirm that an unborn baby has a spirit that is alive and active, sensing all that is happening around it.  We can speak blessings over our babies while they are in the womb and they can hear and understand.  Also speaking things like, “I don’t want this baby” or “I want an abortion” can negatively impact that baby.

                Another friend of mine took the class and told me this story: She was in labor with her second child.  She was in the hospital and her labor stalled about half way and the baby would not descend.  She prayed that God would show her if there was anything that was holding her baby back.  God reminded her of something she had said several times during the pregnancy, “I love my first daughter so much, I just don’t see how I can love this baby as much.”

                She immediately spoke to the baby in her womb, asked the baby’s forgiveness and affirmed that she DID love her as much as her older sister. She asked her daughter to come out so she could hold her.  She felt a dramatic drop in her belly. She called the nurse.  When the nurse checked her cervix, she was dumbfounded!  It seemed impossible, but the baby had dropped, and she was fully dilated.  Her baby was born quickly and easily.

                After my ninth baby, I thought God might not have any more children for us.  Then one day, God gave me a name (Aria Iolani) that I felt sure represented a future destiny, a future daughter.  A few months later I became pregnant.  I was speaking blessings and prayers over this baby right from the start, being inspired by “Blessing Babies in the Womb.”  I have spoken to the spirits of my babies many times before…but this was the first time I ever heard the spirit of my baby speak back. I tell the whole story in my article, “The Naming of Aria Iolani.”  I was worshipping in church while Aria was still in her first trimester, still unknown and unseen by any but God. 

I felt the presence of God so strongly and I told my unborn baby, “This is where you are always supposed to live.”

                “I know Mama,” she replied in the sweetest, little-girl voice. Her spirit communicating with my spirit.

                Now Aria is 3 years old and the most intelligent and perceptive three-year-old I can remember ever knowing. I often hear her sweet, little-girl voice saying one of her favorite phrases, “I know Mama” or, “I know Mom” or simply, “I know.”

                My church has a room devoted to prayer, and for years I took one hour a week to pray for pregnant mothers and unborn babies.  I and some others would pray for any woman in the church who was pregnant and any woman who wanted to be pregnant.  The intensity Of God’s love that I felt during that prayer time always undid me. 

God loves mothers and unborn babies. 

Sometimes a woman would come to us for prayer in person.  Other times I would come across a pregnant woman while in church or out and about in places like Costco.  Always I felt God’s delight when I looked at her.  Many times, I would stop and ask if I could pray for her and her baby.  God would show me His love for the unborn child, and He would sometimes give me a sneak-peak into his or her purpose and personality.

                Yes, life begins at conception with a new body, soul, and spirit that the world has never seen. In God’s eternal perspective, that life began as a dream in His heart long before conception.  Long before the great-great grandmother and great-great grandfather ever met.  Long before the world began. 

It has been the greatest privilege of my life to bring those dreams into being with the knowledge that they will be my children for all eternity.

The School Board Won’t Listen!  What Can a Parent do?

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment

At the beginning of the 2021 school year, I was still homeschooling three children. The other three children wanted to return to public school. Masks had been made optional over the summer.  I suspected that the School Board would change their minds right as school resumed in the fall as they had done the previous year.  I wanted to keep my three sons enrolled in 21st Century Cyber Charter School which was a very good school. However, I went through the tedious work of enrolling my three boys back into the school district. 

                “I Made My Voice Be Heard” at a school board meeting in August.  I was so encouraged by what God had done in the parents, giving us boldness and confidence to speak.  The school board voted to make masks mandatory anyway, one week before school started. Not only that, but they had instituted policies that pushed experimental injections on the students as well as discriminated against the students who didn’t comply.

                I knew that this decision was likely, and this was just the beginning of the fight; not just for mask choice but also for medical freedom, parental rights, and true education that leads children to American Exceptionalism rather than socialism.

                But what to do now! One Week before School!

                I refused to submit my children to these man-made rules that violate their God given immune systems and Constitutional rights. 

“What is the big deal?” some might ask. It is just a mask, right? 

First it was just two weeks to flatten the curve.  Then it was mandatory masks during an emergency.  Now it is, “Submit to our rules or forfeit your education and career!”  What will it be next?

I cannot comply with something that violates my conscience.

                I decided that it was too late to switch back to 21st CCCS because the enrollment process takes a month. We opted for the district’s new cyber academy for Chai and Cooper.  We were not happy with the option, and it was a bumpy road getting it going. We enrolled Calvin in a private Christian school because he didn’t do well with cyber. 

                God has worked it all out for our good!

We love the private school, and it has been wonderful for Calvin!  The tuition was a stretch of faith, but God has provided!

The cyber academy has not been great. Chai and Cooper are begging me to put them back into 21st CCCS.  However, this alone is a breakthrough; for them to want to be enrolled in a school that just last year they said they hated! Plus, they can complete their cyber school in a few hours and still have time each day to work on their lawn care business.  This business has taught them more about hard work, honor, respect, customer service, business practices, and budgeting than public school ever could. They were able to save up enough money to buy a pick-up truck which will only expand their business!

                Another important blessing from this ridiculous governmental overreach is that many parents are waking up!  Before this “pandemic” I never knew who was on the school board, when their meetings were, or what they did during those meetings.  Many of us parents have learned a lot, gotten involved, and have demanded accountability.  School Boards are now on our radar!

                When this school year is over, I plan on enrolling Chai and Cooper in 21st CCCS.  Then all my six school-age children will be out of the school district.  I am so thrilled!  I love not getting emails about every COVID case and every issue going on in the district!  I love the freedom!

                I love the fact that my children do not have to strap on a mask and wait for the bus each morning.  I love that they don’t have to enter the school building and leave their rights and facial expressions at the door!  I love that I don’t have to worry about them getting detention for allowing their noses to pop out above the masks.  I love that I don’t have to think about quarantine protocols!

HOWEVER, THIS IS STILL MY TERRITORY!

MY LAND!

MY INHERITANCE!

I grew up here and graduated from the local High School. I still live in the district and pay their taxes and vote for the school board members.  I will not abdicate.

The Kingdom of God will rule and reign here and not a political machine!

                I have been asking God what He wants me to do. How do I stay involved?  How do I bring His kingdom to come here? The answer is not always clear and it may change from day to day.

                Cooper and Chai still do sports with the district.  Thank goodness they do not require masks outside! In November I went to the High School with Chai because he needed his picture taken for “Athlete of the Week.”  As I waited in the parking lot at the end of the school day, I watched the students emerge from the building and make their way home.  I prayed for them and wondered how each was doing this year; physically, emotional, and spiritually. 

                I spotted a bird overhead, above the building.  I saw a glint of white in the tail.  Chai quickly joined me in the truck, and I asked, “Do you see that bird?  Is that an eagle?”

                “Yeah, that looks like an eagle mom. I can see white in its head.” Chai replied. 

                As it circled, I could see clearly, IT WAS A BALD EAGLE!

Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

                This was the 13th eagle that I have seen, and each time God has something to tell me.  Many of His messages have been about the coming revival.  (I heard Dutch Sheets tell a story during one of his Give Him 15 episodes.  He had been writing the episode about the next Great Awakening and he saw two bald eagles soaring above him in his back yard.  I was so excited to learn that God confirms the coming revival to Dutch in the same way He does for me!)

                I was stunned to see a bald eagle above the High School, a place I consider unfit for my children.  Immediately thoughts dropped into my mind with the force of the Holy Spirit.

                “God is right here, right now.  Revival is coming to this school and there is nothing that the school board can do to stop it!”

                In my imagination I began to see students kneeling in repentance, hugging other students with forgiveness and compassion, preaching about Jesus unashamed, and working miracles.  I began to see students who have been harmed in these past two years receive healing and restoration. I began to see students who have been depressed, cynical, or just bored begin to burn with a passion for truth and love. I began to imagine the answers to the prayers that friends and I had prayed in early morning prayer meetings when we attended high school in this district.

                “I have not forgotten your prayers,” I heard God whisper.

                My perspective just gotten elevated!  I wasn’t fighting against the men and women of the school board.  I was fighting principalities and powers, and Jesus has already won! 

He told me that revival is certainly coming! A divine visitation, a sovereign work of God!

The post from Give Him 15 for the day I saw the eagle confirmed this even more!

I did speak at the next Board Meeting after Eagle Sighting #13.  But I did it with a confidence that God has got this. I referenced the article I had emailed to all the members, “More Than 400 Studies on the Failure of Compulsory Covid Interventions.” I tried to speak truth the best I knew how, but only God can plow up the ground and water the seeds.  Only God can break the deception and change the hearts and minds.  I plan on going to the next meeting early to walk around the school campus and pray!  “Every place where you set your foot will be yours.” (Duet 11:24) If God gives me something to say, I will say it. “For to everyone I send you, you must go, and all that I command you, you must speak.” (Jer 1:7)

                I know that God will bring justice and make all things right.  Someday everyone will know the truth behind the propaganda.  But to stand with God now, when the truth is shrouded and most people can’t see it, that is my glory!  My small actions of prayer, emailing school board members, and speaking at the meetings may not dramatically turn the tide.  But they will help, even if just a little. 

And if I can be found standing with my LORD, doing what He is doing, saying what He is saying, when He comes in His glory…it will have been worth it.