Small Light in the Darkness

I haven't had an opportunity to write much, as of late. I have a weight of thoughts burdening my heart and it has been very challenging to sort through them all. But, I will try.

For the last few months I have felt abandoned, isolated, fearful, angry, lost, overwhelmed, crushed, perplexed and hopeless (just to name a few). These are emotions I have not had a lot of experience with until after my husband died. I used to be one of the most hopeful and optimistic people you may have ever encountered. I mean, it was annoying at times. Always trying to put a positive spin on every difficult situation. But after my husband died, that has become almost impossible for me to do.

In the last three months the following have happened: I prepped my home for the first hurricane we have had in over 10 years! We rode out the storm and it wasn't just the storm of the hurricane I am referring to. One of my children had a severe anxiety/panic episode that left me crippled in fear and despair, not knowing what to do. I didn't even recognize my own child that was once full of joy and laughter. Watching him suffer, broke me in a way I cannot even put into words, but I will try. I felt like I failed him as a mom. I wish his Daddy were still here, and though things were not always easy or joyful, we pushed through and found the common ground. Truth is, without him here, being Mom and Dad has been a heavy weight that sometimes I cannot even lift.

Once electricity was restored and we could get to the doctor, we did. The doctor helped my son process through his fear, anger, pain and breakdown. I sobbed for days as we walked through those dark, dark valleys. I felt alone. Angry. Confused. "How could we endure ANYTHING else, Lord?" "WHY?" That is all I could think. I couldn't pray in a time I knew I needed to most. All I could do was groan and cry out to the Lord. It was then that I felt the Holy Spirit intercede for me. He was able to turn my groans of despair into words.

From a hurricane to my son's breakdown, to my son breaking his elbow, to water damage in my home, to asthma that landed us in the hospital for 2 days.... I am numb. Confused. Exhausted. And yet, though people mean well when they say for me to be a "light" I can't. And it's ok. You see, when we have been a "light" for so long and for so many people, sometimes we need other's to be the light for us.

I did an amazing science experiment with a candle and a match. You strike the match, light the candle and let the candle burn for a few minutes and blow out the match. You then blow out the candle and take a new match and place into the smoke of the blown out candle and that smoke lights the match! Its true! You should try it! The comparison I am making is this. I am that candle. I have been burning bright for years, even immediately following my husbands tragic death. But then, doing this life alone for two years, adding the stress of finances, jobs, kids, sickness, disaster and more, I felt my light get snuffed out. Not from the devil but from life. But the amazing thing is this. Though I may not be "shining" in the worst of times, it is then that someone that can shine, come next to me and S-T-R-I-K-E! They are now a burning flame!

I have realized that if we all are shining for Him all the time, who are we shining for? The Bible is full of examples of helping a friend when they are down and carrying the burdens of others. We all have different seasons at different times and that is why this thing called friendship works.  So, if I am not as joyful as you would like me to be, be the joy for me! If I seem hopeless, remind me of the One who gives Hope Everlasting. If I seem defeated, lift my arms. This is how we should treat all people. I know this is how my Father is treating me. I love that no matter how much I doubt him and feel like the darkness is closing in, that He still loves me. He still cares. He does not remove His love or care from me because of my doubt. I am thankful for this type of love.

As the holidays draw even closer, let us all remember that there are many people who would love to fall asleep and fast forward through the next few months. Reach out to those who have recently experienced loss. Whether it is loss of a job, friendship or through death. Now that I have walked through our firsts without my husband, I can honestly say the firsts were the hardest. I have a newfound empathy and compassion for those who are walking through where I've been. Even if you have been blessed to not have to walk through or even crawl through darkness this deep, reach out. A simple text, email, card in the mail, flowers, or emoji can remind them that they are not alone.

The Darkness Within

So, here it goes again. Another topic the Lord has really been placing on my heart. A lot! I mean like multiple times a day. Its a very controversial topic in the Christian circle. One that many Christians are suffering with in silence. Depression. Anxiety. Panic Attacks. Mental illness.

After my husband died I was left with emotions and feelings I had never ever experienced before. It hurt to do anything. I mean even sitting up in bed reading a book with my sons hurt. My body ached. My soul cringed. Every part of me was in pain. I would sleep the entire day while my sons went to school. I would't eat. Not because I wasn't hungry, but because it hurt. It hurt to think of eating another meal without my husband. It pained me. I would grow nauseous and all of my favorite foods, repulsed me. I would throw on whatever I could find and pick my sons up from school. We would come home and I would use whatever little energy I had left to take care of their needs until bedtime. It exhausted me. One would think that I would have energy since I slept all day, but I didn't. As soon as they fell asleep, I cried. I sobbed. I was broken and afraid. I felt alone and isolated. Every verse I read drove a deeper knife of betrayal I felt from God. Every song that used to encourage me and give me hope fueled my rage. I only let a very select group of people in my life to know how I was suffering. I felt guilty. I beat myself up for my doubt, anger, and lack of faith. I even questioned if I believed that God was good. I was ashamed of these thoughts and feelings which isolated me even more.

I didn't realize it was depression until months later when I had gained an alarming amount of weight, looked and felt awful and the doctor told me my blood-work was concerning. She then asked if anything had changed in my life recently to cause such a change. I broke. I could barely even speak through the hot tears that ran down my face. I finally whispered that my husband had died unexpectedly and how scared I felt. How alone. That I sleep for hours and hours during the day and then am restless at night. It was then she told me I was depressed and dealing with anxiety. She wanted to prescribe me something to take the edge off. To help me with the trauma I just walked through. I held the script in my hands and walked to my car. I sat there and sobbed. Why? Why me? Why us? What now? I went home and researched all of the side-effects of the medication and those scared me so much more than the hope of feeling "normal". I decided I would wait and pray about what I should do.  I didn't fill the script. Ever. But if I did, it would have been ok, even if some of the church, friends, family or even strangers didn't agree. It was in that place that I began to see something so clearly. There is a stigmatism attached to medication especially for mental illness. For many, it is as if other brothers and sisters in Christ have attached a label to you as "faithless."

But, I challenged some with this thought. If a diabetic takes insulin to survive, are they faithless? No. They understand that they need the medication to live. They can pray and pray and beg and beg God to heal them, but, sometimes, the healing is in the form of the medication that has been provided. Someone with cancer knows that they will continue praying for a healing but also use the means and medications readily available to them in efforts to kill as much of the cancer that they can. Extremist will say that anyone who takes medication for any ailment is faithless. They do not believe that God can heal them and therefore they take the medication which in turn proves their distrust of a Mighty God who heals. Statements and groups like these boil my blood.

My mother, who is with our Lord and Savior, suffered tremendously from depression and bi-polar disorder. My Dad, who also is in heaven, was a pastor. We lived most of our childhood in church and we were taught the Bible and about all of God's promises at a very young age. My mom needed medication to stabilize the chemical imbalances that were going on within her body that made her act like someone she didn't even recognize when she looked in the mirror. However, she would pray and cry and beg God to heal her and stop taking her meds. When that happened, we all suffered. But she suffered the most. It would take weeks and sometimes months for her to regain normalcy after receiving treatment again. Our life was wonderful when she took her medication. It was scary and unstable when she stopped. However, my Mom knew God was a God of miracles and healing, and He gave her the doctors to help her heal; through medication.

Now, before you go on judging me and saying I am pushing medicating for everything, please know, I am not. I am a firm believer that our diet and nutrition play a huge role in our health. I also believe that one should try everything naturally first before going to medication if possible. I do know there is an epidemic of prescription drug abuse and addiction. That blog is for another time.

I am very relieved to know that those closest to me in my darkest of times did not pass judgement on me when confessing my struggle with depression. Instead, they prayed with me and for me. They checked on me multiple times a week. They didn't give up on me. And one of the best reliefs was they even told me that if I needed medication to help me, that it was o.k. We all need these friends in our life. Just because I didn't choose medication, doesn't mean I am super-human. I still struggle with depression and anxiety, but not as much as before. There are still sleepless nights where fear grips me, but I am at a place now where I can listen to worship and it calms me instead of firing me up.
Some mornings I wake up with a heavy weight on my chest and I know its going to be a battle to get up and smile. But, I get up and pray for supernatural strength to overcome it. I may nap that day or even cry all day, but tomorrow is a new day and His mercy is new every morning. Amen?

So this is me. My open, vulnerable life for all to read. I don't write this for me.  I am writing this today because God has pressed me to, not because I want to. Are you struggling with depression, anxiety, fear, isolation, etc. and haven't told anyone out of fear of rejection or guilt? If so, I pray that these words compel you to take the first step and talk to someone you trust. I pray that today you break that chain of entrapment. I pray you find freedom in telling another how you are hurting and that the Lord would use them to walk alongside of you in the journey of healing.

Does God Still Have My Back?

Over the last year or so, I have been presented with this question. Its a loaded question that has really caused me some hesitation in even blogging about it, but I know it is necessary. When God has a message He wants you to share, He will not relent. He will constantly remind and pursue us until we obey. Remember the story of Jonah? God gave him a clear cut message to deliver, but Jonah was afraid and blatantly disobedient. Well, as the story goes he ended up in the belly of a big fish and dropped off exactly where God wanted him to go in the first place. I don't want to end up in the belly of a fish so I am no longer procrastinating. :)

I have to warn you ahead of time. This post may offend you. You may totally disagree with me, and that's ok. You may think that what I am about to say is "way off" and want to run in the other way. That's ok. Then this wasn't for you. Or maybe it is, but not now.

In the last 1 year 9 months I have experienced the unthinkable. As you know, my world had been completely wrecked by the death of my husband. It wrecked me. Yes, even though I am a Christian and proclaim that God is good, it wrecked me. There still are days where I get angry at God. I question His goodness. I question Him in every area. I have experienced other loved ones passing away since my husband's death. I have watched other church families lose a mother and a father; one expected and one unexpected but regardless, the pain is unlike any other. I have watched others lose loved ones to addiction, depression, suicide and cancer. Monthly, my Facebook feed has urgent prayer requests for friends and family who are walking through tragedy. Then, last week I heard something on the radio that I know God wanted me to hear. A mom was telling the story of going into pre-term labor at 30 weeks and being air lifted to the hospital. She went on to say that she and the baby almost died, but didn't. One of the hardest things she had to do was leave the precious son in the hospital when she was sent home and it almost broke her. But, she said that she knew God had her back and it was going to be o.k., and it was. This time.

Why do I say this time? Well, what kind of story would she have had if her son didn't make it? Would she say that God still had her back? Or what about the grieving children who just lost their Daddy unexpectedly? Did God have their back? ( This is where you may get offended)

You see, even in my horrific nightmare of loss after loss, I do firmly believe that God will work it out for His good and glory. Sometimes the pain and suffering we endure is questionable. Why do we suffer? Why does God allow it if He loves us? I honestly can only answer with what I know is true.
God LOVED Job. He even declared that no other man on earth at that time was as righteous as he was. God blessed him tremendously. He had it all. Money, land, livestock, a loving family, etc. Yet, God ALLOWED him to be tortured in a way we cannot even grasp. God watched Satan rip everything away from Job except his own life. Where was God? Did he not have Job's back? How could He allow this? He allowed it because God knew that one day, Job would pull through all of the suffering even stronger than before. Job was blessed times over what he was before the suffering.

I look through Scripture and see a common thread of those who suffered tremendously. Those who were sick, dying, paralyzed were healed. They proclaimed Jesus after their healing. The disciples and apostles suffered too. Take Paul for example. He suffered mentally and was a murderer. He was full of rage and turmoil. When God touched him, his life was changed forever. Did the suffering end because Jesus chose him to serve alongside of Him? Absolutely not! We read of all of the times Paul was beaten, stoned, imprisoned, starved, tortured all for serving Christ. Could God stop it? Of course! Did he? No. Paul also declared that he suffered from "this thorn in his flesh". He begged and pleaded for God to remove it, but God didn't. Some scholars believe that the thorn could have been anxiety, depression or migraines. Whatever it was, it ailed him. If you study the Scriptures, you will see this commonality.

Then, Jesus. He suffered the unspeakable. A torturous death he didn't deserve. Even Jesus begged His Father "to take this cup from me". However, because of God's perfect plan, He did not remove the cup. He watched as His own flesh was torn and sin separated His son from Him. Thank God the story doesn't end there! God did exactly as He said He would and Jesus overcame death giving us eternal life. Praise God!

Through history you will read about martyrs who loved God and served Him, but still died. Some very horrible deaths. Some will say that God obviously did not have their backs....but I disagree. I think if we think of it as God not having our back we are missing what God is doing ahead of us. Does that mean we just shrug off the suffering? No. God is fully capable of handling our questions and raw emotions. You are human. God understands. It pains Him to see us in pain, but some things happen for reasons we will never know this side of heaven. We only are capable of seeing and understanding the here and now. My challenge is to think and pray through the "what if?" What if God's reason for taking my husband was to protect me from losing him in something far worse? We all must pass from this earth into heaven and most of us don't know how we will go. What if God takes someone home prematurely in our mind but it's because they my suffer far worse? What if he takes a child early? Maybe it is because that child would suffer through sickness or pain as their mommy and daddy helplessly watch? What if?

You see God knows the entire story. We may not understand it. We may even hate the plan. But we eventually will get to a place where we trust Him. Even when we disagree with His plan. It's not easy. Believe me. But there is something very freeing about trusting that God knows all and knows the end of the story. Fully drawing on our own strength and understanding will leave us with more gaping wounds. Laying it all down for God to sort out brings healing. Even praying to God and telling Him that you dislike or even hate what is happening but that you trust Him will bring you one step closer to peace. I pray this for myself. I will pray this for you too.  

When Exhaustion becomes Your Best Friend...

Slept in this morning- my body is definitely  exhausted. I have been taking naps throughout the week, but I just don't think it's enough. It's amazing how grief affects every part of your life. Your body is affected by the stress of grief. I woke up after 8am and we kept pretty busy. I felt numb most of the day and that I'm living a nightmare- like this is a dream and I'm going to wake up and everything be ok. But, it's not ok. And I realized that as I pulled into the Lowe's parking lot.

I'm not sure why Lowe's and I'm not sure why at that moment, but I began crying and thinking "He's never coming home." Lately it feels like I'm tricking my mind to believe that Jeff is just on a long trip-but at the quiet time of the night, I realize he's not on a trip and this is not a dream.

I even have some anxiety- if you knew me you would agree that panic and anxiety are not "me". I used to be a free spirited joyful person. Now, I'm anxious, afraid, very hurt and sad, and the list goes on. Some days I wake up and I feel a glimpse of normalcy. Then by lunchtime it is just a foggy memory and I'm back to my new reality.

I can't put a timeline on when I will begin to feel like going to the grocery store isn't a panic attack leaving me in tears. I know God's grace is carrying me and my boys.

It's just so hard some times. The exhaustion, the tears, all of the emotions. I just wish he was home with us. I miss him terribly and I often wonder how I will carry on my life without him.

I know Jesus will carry me through and hopefully one day I will be able to walk on my own again.

The day my life stood still

Many have asked me what happened? I am sharing the hardest day of my life with you. I ask that you would continue to pray for me, the boys and our entire family.....this was the day my entire world stood still.

My husband was away on a business trip. He was so excited about his upcoming promotion to manager. He took his training seriously, and though he did not like flying, he was eager to travel out of State.

His first trip was at the end of September. I remember packing with him the night before he left. He wanted me to read off his list to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. He would unpack and repack as I read his list. My husband was super organized. I mean...ultra-organized.

His first trip was successful and when he came home he wasn't feeling well. He caught a cold from traveling and by that weekend he had a full-on sinus infection. For my husband to ever go to the doctor you know he must not be feeling well. However, Saturday morning came and off he went to a walk-in clinic. He was prescribed an antibiotic and other medications and he took them each day as he was supposed to.

He started feeling better, but still was not 100% before his second trip. We went through his packing routine Sunday night, and Monday, October 5th he left the house at 3:00am heading to the airport. I am so thankful we prayed together that night, and I kissed his forehead.

We text, emailed, talked and Face-timed each other as well as the boys while he was away. That was one thing my husband and I have always done- text. I mean chronically. The boys enjoyed seeing his hotel room through technology, and I enjoyed the feeling that he was here though he wasn't. Wednesday, Oct. 7th, he started my routine morning text, telling me he loved me, asked how I and the boys were, etc. He then sent me Scripture verses he read that morning. It was a normal day.

He did text me that he wasn't feeling well, now fearing the sinus infection returned. He told me he didn't sleep well Tuesday night, however he had been experiencing insomnia for a few months and so I didn't make a big deal out of it. I text him that I love him and that I couldn't text or talk because I was on the 8th grade retreat. He said he loved me and to text later.

Wednesday was a blur and I now had bronchitis. I felt light headed from the heat and from coughing all day. I was exhausted and couldn't wait to get home to shower and rest-but I had the monkeys. The monkeys as Jeff and I called them are our two very lively sons. I text Jeff that the boys and I were home, that I felt worse that day than all week, and that all crazy was happening. Our alarm was going crazy, the boys were at it as brothers are, and the phone was ringing. I text him that I would talk later because everything was crazy! I told him I love him and he said he loved me and was probably going to go to bed because he had to wake up early Thursday to come home.

After getting the alarm off, the boys in bed and somewhat settled, I text him back. He didn't respond so I thought he was already asleep.

Thursday morning, October 8th 2015,  came and I glanced at my phone and did not see his normal morning text. I was confused but thought possibly that he may have over-slept and could have been stressed about his flight, etc. and may have just simply forgotten to text me. So, I sent him the verses I read that morning before heading to school, and waited. But, he never answered.

I taught my first class, and checked my phone multiple times. Still nothing. I began to get concerned when I text him that I would be needing to see a Dr. as soon as he got home because I was wheezing and getting worse. No response from him. That was unlike my husband. He always text back. I started to worry and thought that he may have lost his phone, missed his flight, etc. I started making phone calls looking for him. His Dad was at the airport waiting to get him...circling and circling. He said that Jeff never called him either. Again, my husband was very organized and NEVER did anything like that before. It was at that moment I felt sick. I knew in my spirit something was terribly wrong.

After confusion through multiple phone calls, tracking his iPhone and talking to various people, we learned that my husband never boarded his flight. It was at this time that the NY police were sent to the hotel. My worse nightmare came true within minutes. My world came crashing down and my life stood eerily still. My best friend, my husband was gone. He passed away in his sleep.

The rest of that day and days to follow are a blur. I have been struck with the worse type of pain imaginable. The grief is so heart-wrenching it makes me sick. I have questions that have not been answered and even more now than ever before I have questioned God as to why? Why now? Why him? Why me? Why my boys? Why our family? This isn't fair. I think I have uttered those words more than ever before.

My life forever changed in a split moment. I became a widow and single mom within minutes of hearing the horrific news. Fear gripped me. I felt like I couldn't breath. Why me? Why him?

The days following his passing have been confusing, frustrating, heartbreaking and yet filled with hope, peace and comfort. I know I will see him again, but honestly, most days....that doesn't help because I want to see him now.

In meeting with my Pastor I was able to share my transparent hurt. I was able to be honest without being judged. It was during our meeting that he shifted my perspective from Why to What Now? I may spend my days questioning Why and I may not ever get an answer. However, I will get direction when I ask What Now. Jesus is carrying my boys and I one moment at a time. I may not know why this is happening, but I do know what is next...and I need to focus on that.

As hard as this tragedy is, I need to constantly cling to His promises. Though it may feel like he has left me, He hasn't. He has used His people, His church to come alongside of my family and be His hands and feet. We are so thankful for the community.

I have always loved writing. Jeff would joke and always have me write things for him. He would always compliment me on my writing, though I never took him serious. Writing has always been an outlet for me. Since I was a young girl. I started this blog for a few reasons:

1. A release of my pain
2. Comfort for me and others
3. An online journal to look back on in years
4. To minister to me and anyone else who needs it
5. To feel closer to my beloved husband

My prayer is that the Lord would use these broken hallelujahs to mend the brokenness inside of me and others. I will always trust His Word  " That He has a plan for me. A plan not to harm me but to give me a hope and a future" Jeremiah 29:11

Are you Ready?

I have to share a tough topic with you- sorry in advance if I offend anyone but I feel that if I don't say this, I would regret it in the future. 

We all live in such a way that we count on tomorrow. We plan our steps and organize our days, believing that we will wake up the next morning, and the next, and the next....

No one ever thinks they will be widowed at a young age. No one thinks they will lose a child. No one thinks that their children will be left behind because a tragedy strikes both parents. I know I didn't think it would ever happen to me. You see, I counted on tomorrows. For the last 39 years. I clung to my memories and was eager about each new day I was blessed with. I made dumb decisions, didn't hold my tongue, never returned calls or texts, took advantage of my life. I was living a fast paced life. Too busy. 

Looking back at the last few weeks of my life and how it has been tragically changed, I must say that I do not count on tomorrow. My husband was supposed to return the next day from a business trip but he never came home. He never woke up. While I was here going about my busy day, he was dancing with Jesus unbeknownst to me. 

No one is ever prepared to lose a loved one. No matter if they battled terminal illness, or if there were warning signs. When death strikes, it crushes you. When it is your spouse, you feel your heart has been severed. When it is sudden and unexpected, you are grieved to the point of illness. Tomorrow never came for my beloved husband, but it did for his sons and me. I wasn't prepared to lose him so early, but I am thankful he thought of things in case he did.


I'm not sure who this is for, but regardless if you are single, newly married, married with kids, an empty nester, divorced, etc you must do this. You must put a plan in place in case tragedy strikes. That means a living will. That means retirement accounts. That means life insurance. That means disability. If you haven't done this yet, please accept my advice and do it tomorrow. We never know if tomorrow will come. We have to plan and be wise in case tomorrow doesn't happen. I say this is utmost love for all of you.

He Keeps His Promises

Tonight, I wanted to share a supernatural encounter I had. You see, when my brother died at age 30 I was somewhat prepared. He was very sick and in hospice. We knew his time to go home with Jesus was coming. When it happened, I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was just 21 years old. I spoke at his memorial as he was everything to me. I remember begging God to help me-and he did. That situation repeated itself years later when my Daddy died unexpectedly. He was in Ohio and it was the summer before I began teaching at CCA. We kept him on life support so many could pay respects to him from all over the nation. I didn't think I would be able to speak at his service-but my mom begged me and once again I told God He needed to show up on my behalf. And, He did.

When I stood in front of at least 500 people, I started to panic but suddenly I felt two hands on my back holding me up. I even looked behind me and no one was there. I gave the eulogy and once I sat down my mom asked why I looked behind me. I shared with her I felt these hands holding me up. I started sobbing with her, swept by grief. 6 months later, my Mom died unexpectedly. She had a major surgery and was just about ready to be transferred to assisted living for physical therapy. The call came about an hour after I left visiting her. I was full of hurt, confusion, grief and more. I told God there was NO WAY I would speak at her service- I mean, I just lost my Daddy 6 months beforehand. However, I was asked to speak at her memorial- and once again, I told God He had to show up. And, He did. 

When planning my husband's service I knew I could not speak. I was gripped with fear in a way I've never had before. I cry without warning, sob with deep pain. I am angry. I am confused. The list goes on. So, I knew I wouldn't be able to speak in front of people on his behalf. It wasn't until we were in the office to plan his service that Paul was asking for names of people speaking. I gave everyone's name and we moved on. Then I felt this hard pressing-like I had to speak. So I told him to put my name down. I was sick to my stomach- what would I say? Well, I had multiple arguments (mono-arguments) with God. I told Him He better show up more than ever before- like BIGTIME! I was terrified-I didn't know what to say- I tried writing my eulogy multiple times but it wasn't until midnight, two nights before his service, that I asked God and Jeff what to say. I typed for what seemed to be hours. I closed my computer and went to bed.

 I took the day to myself. I went to the beach and sat alone. Listening to the wind and the waves. I closed my eyes and inhaled. Butterflies in my stomach regarding Jeff's service the next day. I opened my eyes and saw a little boy ( 1 1/2 years old) standing right in front of me. He had dark hair and chocolate eyes. He smiled. His teeth so little, his grin so big. He started talking (babbling) and I tried to make sense of what he was saying. All I could hear was "look" "look" as he was pointing up. I saw many birds and so I thought he was talking about birds- he would repeat what I said-birds, airplane etc. then he would walk down to his parents. He would appear like this a few times. Once he placed his little hands on my knees and said "look" "up" I looked up to see nothing but the beautiful sky. He took my hand and walked me to the waters edge. He held my pinkie and pointed to the waves- look-look- I said yes I see the waves. He would shake his head no and do this over and over again. What did he see? I will never know. What I do know is as soon as our encounter an unexplainable peace flooded over me. We stood for what seemed like forever staring out at the ocean. Not saying a word. Just holding my pinkie. I told his mom that he was ministering to me in a powerful way and that my husband just passed away. I told her how special her son is. That day, Jayden was an angel sent to me.

 The next morning was the morning of my husband's funeral. I told God He needed to keep His promise. And, He did once again. I walked up to the podium and took in a breath and began. Before I knew it, I felt like I was floating. As if I were watching someone else give the eulogy. I couldn't feel my legs. It was one of the most supernatural experiences I have ever had. 

Jesus carried me that day, just as the poem Footprints mentions. As soon as I sat down, I began to weep. God's power is very real. There was a message that God needed others to hear that morning, and He knew the only way I would be able to be that vessel was for Him to carry me. Your prayers carried us and continue to do so. Never underestimate the power of prayer!

How has God kept His promises to you? Write them down as you remember them to reflect back on in times of questioning.