Are They Ready For This?

Born during a heavy snow (in the deep South, no less), I was two weeks late and the first of four children. My father was a drunk, a pot-head. My mother had two of us before she knew what hit her (my sister and I are thirteen months apart), and a dead-beat husband. I don't know all the horrid details, nor do I want to. First I'll tell you what I remember, and then the explaination I was given when it occurred to me that my mother might know.

I must have been two or three, because I remember an apartment, and you walked in the bedroom and immediately on the right, against the wall was an old bed. It was the squeaky type, with the 1800's springs under them. It was supposed to be my little sister's bed, but we always slept together. She would get against the wall, because I had to be on the outside to protect her from falling off. The funny thing was that I was the one always dreaming I was falling, and hitting something hard, but just for a split second, I always fell on my upper lip or my bottom. But I always woke up, and I'd never fallen, and I'd kept my baby sister from falling as well. I had these dreams all the way through elementary school. I never told anyone because it seemed too weird - even to a kid.

When I turned 12, I think, or maybe it was 13, I had a party at my house - and my father called to say 'hello'. This was a shock as he'd been out of my life so long, I barely remembered him, but that's another story for another day. Immediately the dreams began again. This time I told my mom, and I told her that I knew the dreams started when I was real young. She didn't believe me, I couldn't possibly remember. But I did. I described the bedroom we slept in, the layout of the apartment, even what the couch looked like, and most importantly, how the landing and the staircase looked walking out of the front door of the apartment.

Seeing your mother cry is something you should always dread. Little did I know that this conversation would affect her so. When I was barely two, I was a fat, short little thing. No, seriously, I could barely walk I weighed so much the doctor put me on a lowfat diet when I was 9 months old. 'Really?' you are thinking. Yes, really, ask my mom, she never misses an opportunity to push 2% milk on kids, and she always gives me as the best example in the world.

So my parents were arguing, their marriage clearly coming to a fast end, when my father decided to take us from my mom. He grabbed my 9 month old sister out of my mom's arms and grabbed my hand, pulling me down the stairs. I've heard he kicked me (by a couple of family members) and I've been told he pulled me all the way down. I don't know, God has blocked that from my memory. What I do know, is two or three blocks later, he stopped at a pay phone and called my mom. Said for her to come get us because we wouldn't quit screaming and I was bleeding everywhere.

For a long time I was really mad at my father. But these are the type things you can forgive when you have Jesus in your heart. There's no room for anger. That's something that happened to me, what purpose did it serve? I don't know, I can't tell you. I can tell you that it doesn't hurt my feelings or make me mad at anyone anymore, even my father. He's not the man I call Dad, nor will I ever. But he is forgiven. I forgave him, just as God did.

See, it's not up to us to decide who was right or who was wrong in any given situation, we are to show love and compassion and forgiveness to all. Everyone knows 'forgive our tresspassors, as we forgive those who tresspass against us.' This isn't just scripture, or words from an outdated book (as I have unfortunately heard God's Word referred to) - this GOD'S LIVING WORD - it's as true now as it was the day it was written. Forgive YOUR tresspassors, and pray that you are forgiven for those you tresspass against.

Sex is everywhere. Everywhere you look someone is getting a divorce or their spouse is cheating on them...it's the ultimate 'bad' thing to do in today's society. But does society really see it that way anymore?

My sister and brother weren't on the bus that day. When I got off at my house, my mom's car was there, but so was a gray car. I rushed in and said, "HEY MOM, what happened to the others today?" There was a man in our living room, a nice dressed guy, looked about my mom's age. Mom said, "C'mere we need to talk. This is Detective Larry and he has some questions about your best friend and her dad." My heart felt into my stomach. I knew what this was about now.

My best friend's dad molested me and seven other girls from the time we were eight until that faithful day when I was just 10 years old. (GASP! that's the age my daughter is now.) Detective Larry didn't know about anyone but me...and how he knew for sure, I'll never know. But I broke down crying and told him everything with my mom sitting right there holding my hand. The relief has only parelled one other day in my life - the day I finally asked the Lord to save me.

Sex is everywhere, and people mis-use it constantly. As a teenager, I felt alone and strange in my own skin, except when I was with a boy. Then I felt like I had control, little did I know that's when I was losing control. I never drank, never did drugs (as a teen) but I couldn't get enough of the wrong kind of attention. Why? I don't know. What I do know is those bad decisions follow me even today. Not that they haunt me so much, more the people who knew me then, and they see me now, I have nothing in common with them now. I'm not in the darkness anymore.

I've stopped trying to analyze my life - God knows what He's doing. :-)

And God loves all of us. Even the daughter of a pot-head, who physically abused her. Then a man I was supposed to be able to trust, hurt me terribly. Then I hurt myself with bad decisions. AND GOD LOVES EVEN ME, this I know. Not because of a song or a movie or any specific person convincing me. I know because His Word says it.

You don't have to carry the baggage of your life. Giving my life to Jesus is the best thing I've ever done!! The blessing of having Him wash these past transgressions from my heart (and some from my memory as well) has been a life changing experience that I can not describe.

Going to church was never big on my parents agenda. They'd send us on a bus, and even to my uncle's church for VBS every summer. We learned how to abide by the Ten Commandments because my dad was strict. (My dad married my mom when I was 4 - he's been a fabulous, awesome dad - I couldn't have chose better myself - way to go mom, LOL). They were active at the school and the ballpark, but church was not somewhere we'd go. Not even today can I get them to go with me. Oh, they believe very much and love the Lord very much. We can have wonderful discussions about theology, doctrine and they have been very vocal in helping me look for a new church. My dad even made mention the other that 'the End of Days have to be upon us.' I got a really excited look on my face, and he said, 'but I'm not going to your church.' Okay, but that's a start.

So do people who grew up in church, and fell away, not to be taught any false doctrine. Will they know the signs? Do they know the time is near?

Getting pregnant out of wed-lock was never my plan. I'd just finished community college, thought I'd work for a year or two and save money, then go back to get a Bachelor's in Paralegal. But about a year after I graduated, we'd been out partying all night. We'd downed two fifths of Tequila that night. I remember being violently sick the next day. I'd never had a hang-over before (or since). I stayed sick for weeks, kept telling everyone I had a 'flu bug' or something that I just couldn't shake. At nearly three months pregnant, my sister is the one who called me on it and made me take a test.

At nine weeks old I'd had a double-hernia surgery, which I barely woke from. . . The doctor's told my mom I'd never have kids. All my life I'd believed that with wrecklessness. My dad even asked me, "How did this happen?" I said, "Well, Dad, if you don't know...." LOL Seriously, it was the biggest shock of my life.

Then came the push to get me married before anyone could count it up. I didn't want to get married, and I even told him that the night before we married. My mom was putting my veil on telling me that I 'didn't have to go through with this, she'd go out there and tell everyone that I'd changed my mind.' I couldn't do that, so I went through with it.

As soon as the baby was born, the jealousy started. He was jealous of the baby, or of "the time I had to put into the baby." This is when I started praying. Small, simple prayers. "God, it's me again. Please protect my daughter against the evils of this world." That's all I had in me. The sun rose and set in my daughter, and I didn't care if he was jealous, I was determined to give her the attention and love she needed.

DD was about 15 months old when an old high school friend came back into our lives. He smoked pot. It wasn't long before my ex was smoking it, too. He hid it from me for a little while, but then he told me that he was grown (huh, 23 is hardly grown) and he'd do it if I liked it or not. My only request was that he keep it away from me and our daughter.

Soon he was smoking it all the time, like cigarettes. He couldn't stay focused or even get a full time job. Then he started selling it. And keeping large amounts in our house. And then he was growing it in the attic and the storage building. Five gallon buckets. It was madness. I was scared everyday that the police would show up and my daughter would be taken away.

My ex became very paranoid. He worked part-time at night, he would call and keep me on the phone asking what I was doing and who I was seeing. Now in his defense there was a guy that was trying to come on to me. And we'd talked a few times, but my heart knew it was wrong, so nothing ever happened, but a suspecious mind does not let go. My daughter was just over two when she found me crying in the kitchen floor (she was supposed to be in bed). She put her hand on my shoulder and told me 'it's okay, mommy, did my daddy make you cry again?'

One night after she'd gone to sleep and he came home from work, he forced me at gunpoint to leave the house (she was asleep inside) and show him where the 'guy' lived. I was crying and screaming and asking him to just take me back to my daughter. After I showed him where this guy lived, I became very calm and told him that he should think about his daughter. He took me back home. But he loved to fight and argue all night long. My work was suffering, but I was maintaining my position okay. The final straw came in August.

My daughter started having little episodes. She'd fall to the ground and say 'the house was spinning. Please, please make it stop.' I'd take her in my arms and rock her back and forth, telling it was alright. You can imagine the work I'd missed that summer, so my ex took her to the doctor, and I told him to be sure to tell her Peditrician that we'd been having marital problems. He called from the doctor's office to say that she needed an MRI to rule out a tumor! I asked if he told the doctor about our problems, and he said he had not. SO I called the doctor and talked to him. He said in light of that information he tended to think she was having panic attacks, but wanted to do the MRI to be sure. The MRI was clear, so the doctor asked me what was I going to do about the situation. He gave me a prescription to give her at night and I assured him the situation had just been handled.

I packed our things on a Thursday night while he was at work. There was no note, nothing else left to be said, in my opinion. The 'summer of hell' was 2001. Everytime I think of it, I thank the Lord HE guided my steps, even when I didn't know HE was there.

It's the little things you remember. And now I can see God's hand was in everything I did...

I remember getting up that next Friday morning to take DD to have the MRI. My aunt rode with me. Now most of my young life, I visited this aunt every summer for VBS. She probably knew more than I thought she did about the situation, but I was so relieved I wouldn't have to be at the hospital alone I never really expected her to have such an impact on me. She told me, "Pray about it."

Whoa! Hold up. Stop. It was just that simple.

While DD was getting her MRI, I prayed...not only for the results of the test, but for strength to follow through, for God's protection for me and for DD. And for forgiveness for being away from HIM for so long...and for my many sins and transgressions.

Prayer is powerful. And you don't need me to tell you that, if you've given your life to Christ, you know that. But if you haven't, trust me, I don't have it in me to keep a secret - IT'S THE MOST AWESOME THING YOU'LL EVER DO. Trust Him today, Don't be left behind.

"I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked unto Him, and were lightened, and their faces were not ashamed." Psalm 34:4-5

"Fear not; for thou shalt not be ashamed neither be thou confounded; for thou shalt not be put to shame: for thou shalt forget the shame of thy youth, and shalt no remember the repoach of thy widowhood any more." Isaiah 54:4

I've been putting off writing this next part of my testimony. Before I begin, it's imparative that I stop and pray. Lord, please use me for Your will, You know my story and You know that I have been in many dark, evil places in my life. Thank You for forgiving me and loving me enough to send Your only Son, Jesus, for the horrible transgressions I and others have committed on this earth. Please allow me to forgive myself and understand that condemnation comes from Satan. Praising You through the good and the bad. Thank You Lord for the life You've allowed me, and the family and friends. In Jesus Name, Amen.

Newly divorced and not really sure which way to turn, I decided to take my daughter to the church just up the road. She was only two, but looking back I realize I went in her name, but it was for me that God led us there. The church people came to visit the next Saturday afternoon. I remember being so embarassed because I was wearing a Bud Light shirt. One of the ladies sensed that and told me that God doesn't care what you've done or where you've been. And somehow I knew in my heart she was right. I told them that I thought I was saved, but I couldn't be sure because I'd done so much wrong in my life. I told them that I'd prayed the Sinner's Prayer many times, but I just didn't know, I was confused. We prayed right there in my living room, and when the preacher finished, I felt the greatest sense of relief. This church family did not follow up with me, but I got a Bible and started reading it constantly, without direction, just started at Gensis. Then my ex started going to that church, so I avoided it at all costs. Slowly sin crept back in my life.

I met my the man of my dreams in October that year - in a bar, on the dance floor. Later we wondered how on earth it happened so perfectly, now we know. I really feel that God sent Wes to me, to protect and watch over me, and to love me no matter what I do or say, he forgives me, just as the Father does.

It was January when I got the call - early on a Sunday morning. I knew my ex was off the deep-end, but his mother promised me numerous times that she was making sure my DD was taken care of when in his care. I was naive. He said, ' You gotta come get DD, my cousin had an asthma attack over here last night, and I need to go to the hospital." Of course, I rushed over there. The house was in a horrible state - the carpet had been pulled from the
floor and the furnitrure was all pushed to the middle of the room, ashtrays had been dumped in the floor and my baby came running from the back room with no shoes on her feet, dodging tack-nails in the floor. I was mad. He said, "DD saw his cousin 'hit the floor' and she might have some questions, but everything was fine.

Weird as it was, I just took her home and tried to get her back on track, as was usually the case when she came from his house. A few days later, a girl called me and asked did I know that the cousin had died? I called her family. She died from a meth overdose. They were making it and she was the first to try the new batch. The reality sunk in that not only was DD there when they were cooking all the chemicals to make the drug, but she saw someone OD on it.

It's an absolutely helpless feeling. There are so many things he did wrong, but I can't remember them all with the zeal I once did. When DD started having nightmares and panic attacks again and she was only 3 at this time, I put my foot down. NO MORE. Once my ex was sentenced to jail, I thought it would be easy to protect her. His mother took her to the jail (or maybe it was the rehab place, I still can't get a straight answer, even after all these years). So I cut off contact with the entire family. After months of child-therapy, and medcine to help her sleep at night, I thought DD was going to be okay. All the while, our family was growing ever closer to God.

We started a Baptist church that appeared sound, but I didn't know the difference. The WOF and/or emergent teaching never felt right to me. Studying the Five Love Languages, I asked my husband, why in the world we needed to replace the Bible with Chapman's teaching. He did not understand what I meant. It was that year (I think) 2005 that I found RaptureReady.com, but even then I didn't fully understand God's love and His forgiveness of all wrongs. When my ex called to say he was saved, getting out of jail and wanted to see DD, I just about lost it. The court sided with him. I was devastated. Mad. Didn't understand how God could allow such a thing. Didn't HE know what this delicate child had been through already? I struggled with bouts of depression everytime she left our house to go visit her father. I thought it was an impossible situation. Everyone kept telling me to turn it over to God, and I would pray and cry and beg for understanding. I felt so responsible for all that she was exposed to, even though I couldn't have prevented any of it. For years I carried this burden.

In tears sis...

Thank you, please continue at your pace

Selfishly praying for four years - please God allow us a child. My DH has a daughter (who is being brought up in WOF) and I have Jules. BUT I begged him for years for us to have a child together. I prayed for God to change DH's mind - whatever I could do, I did it. He said we didn't make enough money - I climbed the ladder, worked hard, made more money than 90% of those in my field in my area. He said our house wasn't big enough - bought a bigger house. He said we didn't have enough in savings - saved like crazy. Some nights I would cry, wondering if I'd ever be good enough, if our life would ever be 'ready' for a baby.

FINALLY, after four years of marriage, he said okay, it was time. We found out in June, 2007 I was pregnant. What a glorious time! Now I didn't like pregnancy the first time, and I prayed the second time would be easier. My frame is so small, it was just hard to carry a baby. BUT I was happy, happier than I thought I could ever be. The one thing I never did though, was thank Jesus for the miracle. Not once did I stop to consider that all my selfish praying had finally been answered.

In September, I fell. As I walked into the building where I worked, the floor was wet, I already look 9 months (no joke), and I slipped, fell against the wall, blacked out. When I 'came to' the pain was nearly unbearable. It took all the restraint I had to keep from crying, yelling. Went to the doctor. She said it was my sciatic nerve on my right side, sent me to physical therapy. The physical therapist was working on my right hip, when there was a loud grinding, popping sound. He immediatly backed away from me, and told me to go home, wait for the baby to be born and then if I still had problems, he'd help me.

This started the darkest time in my life. I hurt all the time. And I'm not talking about, 'I stumped my toe hurt', I"m talking about an intense pain that started in my right hip, switched to my left hip and went down both legs. I lost strength in my legs. Bedrest was terrible. Alone and wondering why and what happened, I spent a lot of time on RR, just lurking, but surprisingly I did not spend a lot of time in prayer. I doubted everything, I was mad at everyone. I hurt so bad sometimes I wished that I hadn't gotten pregnant at all. I was so mean that some people still haven't spoken to me and that was 3 years ago.

After LW was born, the pain medicine was awesome! It helped me go, go, go. When I ran out, I went to my doctor and she told me that whatever was going on when I was pregnant should be over, and that she wouldn't give me anymore medicine, but she would send me to an orthopeadic surgeon. I went thinking he would at least give me some relief. He did a few x-rays and told me that nothing was wrong with me, he thought maybe I had an addiction to the pain medicine. I sought another doctor, who conferred with the first one, I needed to exercise, but no medicine was required - the pain was in my head.

For months I went to the gym and exercised like a mad woman, wishing the pain away, but never thinking to give it to God or to pray. The pain never ceased, so I found someone who would sale me what I needed. I started taking traditional drugs, instead of prescriptions. It took away the pain, and I didn't care how, as long as it was gone, so I could feed, bathe and generally tend to my children. I started to resent the baby.

I've said a million times, 'It's all my fault, if I just hadn't fallen."

Over the course of the next year, I saw 8-10 differenct physicians. They labeled me depressed (and I was, but not for the reasons they assumed), they labled me a pill-seeker (and that too, is true, but I really just wanted the pain to stop). One doctor told me he saw a slight hyper-mobility in my tailbone, but it should be better by the time my son was one. ANother told me I had severe fibromyalgia. One said arithitis.

Then came 2009. In March, I went to an Orthopeadic Surgeon. They never got a full history from me. The nurse came in a did such a severe Range of Motion examination that before I got to my car, I was having neurological problems. Numbness and tingling down my right leg. Then up my back and into the base of my skull. I went for an MRI. This found that the labrum in my hip was torn and pieces of calisfication deposits were floating in my hip joint. It also showed a Tarlov cyst. The doctor suggested surgery to remove the calicum deposits. When I asked about the numbness and tingling that had lasted about 5-7 days, he said that it was probably in my head, that Tarlov cysts don't cause problems. So I had new symptoms, but they too were attributed to me being "crazy". Another Ortho told me to leave the deposits alone, they were too old to worry with.

Tried another doctor, who put me on an anti-depressant, which helped, but the pain never went away, and I never quit taking whatever medicine I could get my hands on. In July, I asked to see another Orthopedic. This time she refused and told me that I had to quit chasing diagnoses. This is what the few friends I had left thought too. And many of my family members had written me off. Nobody believed me.

I called my childhood doctor (who'd retired) and begged him to help me. He sent me to pain management. The next doctor told me that I sat on a slightly dislocated tailbone, and since the steriod shots were not helping, I should have it removed. Have my tailbone removed!! So off I go to a neighboring state to get my butt-bone taken out. I had made up my mind, if this doctor couldn't help me, I would take care of it (sucide? maybe). I just knew that I'd put my husband and children, and parents through all that I could . I'd have to get better or I'd have to run away, I was cutting my arms to 'release the pain' and I was bitting my bottom lip until it bled. But I was putting up a brave front. Praying for others, but never stopping to pray for myself.

It took the doctor and physical thereapist 20 minutes to figure out my hips were rotated 20 degrees when I fell THREE YEARS before. Five days of intense thereapy and the PT unrotated my hips manually. There were lots of medical issues that went along with that - my muscles being like jello, learned to use my pelvic muscles again. . . The whole week I was gone from my family, by myself. I owned up to God that I had not been leading the life He called me to, and I was using the pain as an excuse. I thanked God (for the first time in a long time) for every person and every trial in my life.

It's not the trial that makes the person, it's their witness through it. Mine was a poor witness, but now I have the rest of my life to praise HIS wonderful answered prayed and trials. I once was blind, but now I see.

And you can too, but you gotta get serious and quit 'playing' church. Jesus can heal anything!! Your pain, your mind, your doubts...I just can't think of a problem that is too big for God to solve.

Now, approximately 4 months later, I have full use of all my muscles. The pain and the medicine are no longer a part of our lives. Just the other night, I broke down crying about all that I'd put our family through, then Jules told me that she rather liked me now versus before I fell. She told me that I'm a great mom and she was glad we went through all we did, because the person I've become is a hundred times better.

Trusting HIM is all you need. God will provide and take care of you, even when you can't see Him at work in your life. Don't doubt and don't wonder - HE IS ALWAYS THERE.

Tonight while responding to a post on RR about pain, it occured to me that it's been several months since I've updated this thread. While reading over it (again) tonight, I cried again. Cried for the horrible things I've done and said; cried for those I've hurt; cried for the pain that was so terrible; and cried for Jesus who gave His own life for us and, yet we are so rotten. I know we can't help it, but it's still terrible.

Here I am - more than six months post-unrotation and I still feel so much remorse for the way I was. But my life has changed so much. And all for the better. New job, new lease on life, heavily involved in church, a wake-up call to get back to this site (that I love so much)....really, the only thing better would be the Rapture.

How has God changed me? When the conversation turns to someone's hurts or pains (and somehow it always does, everyone has health problems these days it seems) - I always wait for them to ask, "you know what I mean?" or "Have you ever been in that kind of pain?" I know my eyes must light up. After I tell them that my hips were rotated 20 degrees, tailbone misplace, pubis bone more than 90 degrees out of place and the labrum in my hip was torn, I usually get a "OOOOWWW, how in the world did you manage?" That's when I get to talk about Jesus and the way HE went through a whole lot more than that, and He pulled me from the miry clay. And how I'm a better person because all of that happened to me, and how it's not about me anyway, all the glory goes to God alone.


Some people understand and some people just say, 'wow, you are strong." No in reality I was weak, I was a horrible, moody orge, but God knew what He was doing with me, and I praise Him daily for getting my attention the way He did. Every time I sing praises with my children or do a Bible study at church, or even just get to reach out to a co-worker with an encouraging word, I thank Him for the valleys. Without them, without HIM, I'd be nothing.