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Posts Tagged ‘prayer’

I’ve been depressed…for awhile.  I don’t know why.  I had a terrible childhood and every reason in the world to be depressed growing up, but I never was.  Now, I have a GREAT life.  I have the greatest husband of ALL TIMES, 3 beautiful, smart, funny, healthy kids, a great house, the ability to stay home with my kids, wonderful friends and family and I am part of a church that is not just church family, but I really consider them family.  I’m ministering to my neighbors like I never have in my life and get to help with this great non-profit call Retread where we provide basic needs for impoverished kids so they can focus on school.  My biggest problem in life is that we only have 1 car instead of 2 now, which complicates things slightly.  That’s it.

I have nothing to be depressed about and yet I have been for months now.  Frankly, it pisses me off.  I’ve felt like running away for many months now.  (Before you get worried, please know that I would NEVER actually allow myself to do that.  It’s just been an urge.)  I haven’t wanted to be around people.  I just want to stay in bed for days and do nothing.  I’ve come to a point where I just feel like a failure, like I can’t keep up.  I’ve been overwhelmed, drained…depressed.

This past Sunday, I finally shared this with my church and they gathered round me and prayed.  And they’ve been praying all week; I can tell.  I can tell because I feel different this week.  I haven’t had a stress headache yet this week, and that’s huge!  More importantly, I feel more positive.  I feel like maybe I’ve just been putting too much pressure on myself to do everything.  Maybe God doesn’t expect me to do it all.  Normally, that would scare me.  But Boss’s teacher (we’ll call her Ms. N) said something to me this week (that I feel God prompted her to say because He knew I needed to hear it) that helped me tremendously.

I was speaking with Ms. N about a form that Shmoopy and I had filled out regarding Boss’s testing for the Gifted & Talented program, and she shared with me that she had found the stories about Boss funny and inspiring.  She said that she told her boyfriend that she wants to do some of the things with her kids that Shmoopy and I have done with our kids.  She said she told him that Boss’s mom is a “Godly woman that [she] looks up to as a role model.”  She said they’ve found a church they are comfortable in and she wants to grow closer to God.

Whew!  That brings me to tears all over again.  You can’t comprehend how badly I needed to hear someone say that!  And not one of my friends or family-members, but someone outside of my circle who has no obligation whatsoever to offer such kind words.  It made me see that focusing every ounce of my time and energy on my kids is not taking away from my time that I should be sharing the gospel with others.  Right now, in this stage of my life, my kids are exactly where I should be investing my time and energy.  And I don’t have to feel guilty that I’m not out on the streets finding people who need Jesus to minister to them because the time and energy that I invest in my children is making an impact on more than just their 3 very special little lives.  It’s impacting their teachers, counselors, principals, etc…

Just imagine all of the teachers, the people, that my investment in my children will touch in some way over the next 17 years until Sissy graduates from high school.  Boss alone just in his first year of school has 6 teachers including the specials (P.E., music and art).  Not to mention the interaction I have with other teachers through being his room mom and my involvement with PTA.

So, while I’m not completely out of the woods, yet,  I see hope.  Church family, please keep praying…it’s working.  Shmoopy, keep supporting me and loving me; I appreciate you more than I could ever express.  Parents & friends, you’re prayers would be appreciated, too.  If you’re reading this and I’ve never met you, please know that God does answer prayers.  He does care about your state of mind and heart.  He will come through for you in sweet, unimaginable ways.

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girl-praying When I was probably 5-7 years old, I experienced a true answer to prayer that further substantiated my already strong belief that God is real.  I was staying at my Nanny & Poppa’s house, this was before I went to live with them permanently.  I was in the house with my Poppa, when we heard a crash outside.  He told me to stay in the house and he ran outside to see what caused the noise.  I witnessed the event from a bedroom window.

The crashing sound was made by my very drunk Daddy crashing his pickup truck through the chain link fence.  He told my Poppa, who was his dad, that he was there to pick me up and take me with him.  My Poppa, realizing this was a terrible idea with the state my Daddy was in, refused to let me go with him.  My Daddy could get extremely angry when he was drunk, and he didn’t take this refusal kindly and told my Poppa in words I won’t repeat that he was taking me whether Poppa wanted him to or not.

Poppa ran in the house, locked the door and retrieved one of his hunting rifles from his bedroom.  Then he ran outside and pointed the gun in his own son’s face.  He told him to leave and come back when he was sober.  My Daddy continued to insist on taking me with him, and my Poppa began begging him to just leave and come back when he was sober or he would have to shoot.

Now, while it was true that my Daddy was an alcoholic and could be very violent at times, he never once laid a hand on me.  He loved me and made me feel loved and special.  Somehow, that anger of his was never directed toward me.  I loved my Daddy probably more than any other person on Earth, and I did not want to see him hurt by my Poppa even though I knew that Poppa was right to not want me to go with him.  So when my Poppa told him he would shoot him, I ran into the living room and knelt down at the red floral vinyl couch and began to pray earnestly that God would keep my Daddy safe.  I believe my actual words were, “Jesus, please don’t let Poppa hurt Daddy!”

Then I ran to the window to see what was happening.  The shouting was escalating and I could tell that, while neither of them wanted to hurt the other one, they were both willing to do whatever it took to get what they were after.  So I ran back to the couch and prayed some more.  I begged and pleaded God to keep my Daddy safe from harm.  It ties my stomach in knots even now to think of how earnest and desperate that prayer was!

Then I ran back to the window to assess the situation.  The fight was getting worse.  Tears were streaming down my face and my heart was racing.  Then it happened…Poppa pulled the trigger just inches from my Daddy’s chest!

Everything stopped.

No more shouting.

No more movement.

Just silence.

Poppa had pulled the trigger, and it had jammed.  Both men, father and son, stood staring at one another in shock and disbelief.

Fortunately, the fact that his own father had just tried to shoot him sobered my Daddy enough to make him realize that he should leave, and he did.  My Poppa sat on the steps and cried.

I ran back into the living room, knelt at that vinyl couch one more time and cried my eyes out.  This time, my prayer went something like this: “Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you, Jesus!  Thank you!”

I know my God is real because He hears and answers my prayers.

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