The Source of My Strength

Many people see me as a "strong" individual. I usually laugh when I hear that because from the time I was but a small child, I have always been rather "fragile" emotionally.

As a very young child, coming from a home without any religious training, I truly believe God Himself drew me unto Himself. The youngest of two, with a sister six years older than me, I still clearly recall the horrendous fighting that frequently went on between my parents. It was then, when only four or five, that I somehow knew God existed and that He loved me. And as the screaming would rage on, I was aware of His tender comfort.

Many years later, I learned that my grandmother, who had died when I was only an infant, was a devout Christian and I have always credited her for the faith I was blessed with as a young child.

By age six and seven, I remember swinging on the swingset in my backyard, singing songs to God. Eventually, by the time I was an early teen, I became involved in a church youth group that strengthened my faith and helped me understand more about this God that I had always known but never truly knew.

A Time of Miracles

As a young adult, I wanted nothing more than to be a social worker and help other people. Sadly, because of all the problems I had lived with while growing up, my school work suffered badly and I barely graduated with a D- average. To be a social worker would require my obtaining a college degree!

By the grace of God, when I contacted a small Methodist college in Marion, Indiana (some 500 miles from where I grew up in Wisconsin), the admittance officer told me that if I were to successfully complete the two summer sessions (a total of four courses in 8 weeks time), he would allow me to attend the college full-time.

What a blessing it was to live 24/7 on a Christian campus and have the chance to prove myself! Learning to study and apply myself was difficult but I earned two C's the first session and two B's the second session! With that, I was accepted full-time to pursue my dreams.

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After college, I was indeed a social worker for seven years in Port Huron, Michigan until the man I married became horribly abusive and left me no alternative but to leave him.

Not wanting to stay in the area, I joined the Army and served three years overseas in Germany. It was there that I met my second husband who shared my faith. When we were discharged we settled down in Colorado Springs. I had always wanted a baby more than anything in the world, but was medically told "something" was amiss and by the age of 30, I should just "give up" on trying.

A part of me did give up, I think, yet the yearning to have a baby never, ever left me. I believe God, in His love, gifted me with the one child I have. It was a fierce winter storm that blew into Colorado Springs when my husband and I went our separate ways to our jobs. Within an hour, however, the city was basically closing down and we were both sent home. In my heart I know that was the day God worked His miracle. A mere three weeks later I was feeling ill, left work to see the doctor, and was told my blood test revealed I was pregnant! All I could say was "Glory Be to God!" for surely this infant was a Heavenly Gift to me.

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Several years later when my son was a mere three years old, he became very ill in the middle of the night and would, without a doubt, have died had God not intervened in some very specific ways. The story about that incident has been entered into my portfolio and can be read at this link.

The Night God Sent an Angel  (E) Had God not intervened, my son would have died! #1397719 by JudyB

Many years have passed since then, and the hardest thing I had to deal with in recent years was the passing of my parents. Mom and Dad had mellowed considerably from the time I was just a little child and when Dad had a stroke, I was there for Mom. He was able to live at home but was quite disoriented and Mom needed a lot of help.

Within a year, however, the stress took it's toll and Mom suffered a debilitating stroke as well. My wishes fell on dead ears when I begged the court to allow me to care for them, and by court order they were both sent to live in the local nursing home. My heart broke but the judge felt it would be too much for me to handle even though my husband and son were more than willing to help.

One night I received a phone call from the nursing home about my mother. The nurse said Mom did not greet her with her normal smile and just seemed "out of it." I was assured I did not need to come but she just wanted to let me know something was not quite right. Thus, I went to bed and tried to sleep, but worried about Mom. Bright and early the next morning, my husband, son and I went to the nursing home to see how Mom was doing.

Shock is the only word I can adequately use to describe what I found. My dear mother was lying in her bed, facing the window, totally rigid, unable to speak and breathing in short, quick gasps. Clearly she was dying!!! Her mouth was dry and cracked, her entire body was rigid and she was completely unable to talk. I was livid!!! Could the nursing staff not have seen how near to death she was? Her blood pressure was a mere 80/40 and having been a CNA, I knew Mom's time was short.

Doing the only thing I could do, I washed her face, brushed her hair, all the while talking to her soothingly. I was ever so grateful that as I cared for her, she clearly relaxed and knew I was there for her. Within minutes, Mom breathed her last and I could only cry both tears of sorrow and of joy...sorrow in seeing her die, yet joy in knowing she had literally "waited" for me the entire night to be there for her. I have no doubt God kept her alive until I could be there for her.

"Miracles" still continue to come my way. Other's might call them co-incidence's but my faith prevents me from calling them that. When my son fell asleep driving home and literally totalled his car out, yet walked away from the crash without even one scratch upon him...that was clearly another miracle.

I will never be one to push my faith upon another...but I will always find joy in sharing my faith. When life gets tough, as it frequently does, I will always be thankful to know I don't have to "go it alone." He always has and always will be my Strength.