After 3 years of impatiently waiting, I was finally pregnant again. I say impatiently because getting pregnant the first time was so easy. All Marc and I had to do that think about it and it happened. But the second time was frustrating. Every month, another disappointment when the test read negative. Unexplained secondary infertility is what they called it. There was no good reason for it. All the medical tests said it was possible, but my body was thinking differently. Oh, and let me add, I kept asking God: Why not this month? I never said: In your time!
I made the appointment with the infertility specialist. Do you know what kind of wait list there was? Seems like just about every woman in Northeastern Ohio wanted in too. The appointment was set for two and a half months out.
During that wait period I started looking into adoption. I looked at domestic and foreign. Because we already had one child the wait period for domestic was much longer unless there was a birth mother who was specifically looking for a family with children. With foreign, it depends on what country you want as to how long you wait. Not to mention the price involved.
Infertility can cause such a strain on a marriage as well. Everything is based on a calendar with small windows of opportunity. The whole beauty of what your love for each other can create becomes mechanical. You start to take on the "it's now or never" attitude every month. And then after a while after the test keeps coming back negative, you both become discouraged and disappointed. Talk about too much thinking.
Instead of becoming closer together you can lean further apart. Communication can break down. That is what happened. Everyone knows that great communication is key to a loving, successful marriage, but when it becomes strained or stops it can cause quite a chasm.
One Sunday at church a couple came in and spoke about the Catholic Marriage Encounter Weekend. My heart started pounding. I could feel it deep in my heart that that is where God was leading us. "Come to me all you who are weary and heavily laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and loving, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light" Matthew 11:28-29. God was calling. I went home from church, picked up the phone and made the reservation.
The weekend was great. Marc and I reconnected. We put the rest of our life on hold. We trusted that our three year old daughter would be fine at grandma's house and made a promise to only check in once on Saturday. It was not easy, but we kept our promise. This weekend was about us: our relationship with each other and our relationship with God.
It was on this weekend that my guilt about my abortion came out. I was still blaming myself, refusing to forgive myself, even though God had already forgiven me. In my mind I had this thought process going that maybe I was only supposed to have two children, and I blew my chance. Marc was gentle and understanding. We became better communicators. We also learned to actively listen to one another, not try to fix it, but just listen. Nine months later our very handsome son was born.
What a scary birth it was. First of all the little stinker was two weeks late to the day. Then, even though I was induced, he was just too comfortable in my belly. When he finally did make his appearance, it was fast. He practically flew out. However, he was blue.
The cord was wrapped around his neck two times. His apgar's were 0 and 2. He would be rushed down to NICU without me being able to even hold him first. Then my complications would begin. I started hemorrhaging. After no pain drugs and a natural birth I was rushed into surgery. They stopped the bleeding, but also had to give me two pints of blood. Meanwhile, they left my husband, the new father, in the labor/delivery room alone.
But my son's birth was a miracle. The reason he did not drop prior to flying out was because had he, he probably would have been born dead. Then we found out that his umbilical cord was eight inches longer than normal.
You see, God's hand was always there. From the timing of my pregnancy, to the timing of my son's birth. If anything had been different, so would have the outcome.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Am I So Arrogant
We all want to believe we are good. If we have not done anything too disasterous or criminal it is quite easy to have that mindset. We figure that as long as we put in a hard, honest days work, done our chores, have not abused our spouse or children, went to the obligatory church service, put money in the offering plate, took the new neighbor a welcome gift, attended bible study or worked at the homeless shelter, we are good. We have earned our salvation. We may have even made a name for ourselves or given a lasting legacy that others will write about, read about, or reminisce about.
But deep down we are all sinners. At our very core we want what we want, when we want it, and how we want it. We see our needs, wants, and desires as being more important than the next persons. We want a pat on our back when we do something well, and then we want to brag about it to others. I mean, it's only human. We begin our lives egocentric and we will end our lives the same way.
The is only one who is good. There is only one who is deserving. There is only one who is perfect. That is God. He created us and the world around us. It is His master plan, His design. If anyone deserves recognition and praise it is Him.
God gave us the greatest gift of all: His Son. Through Jesus we receive Salvation. And guess what, it is a free gift. There is nothing we can do or say to make us more deserving than the next person.
He has given us grace. Merriam Webster defines grace as: a virtue coming from God, unmerited divine assistance freely given to humans for their regeneration or santification. An act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemincy. A reprieve. Do you see these words? Freely given. Instance of kindness, unmerited divine assistance. There is nothing we can do to gain it. It cannot be worked for.
The punishment meant for us, death, was taken away. It was put on Jesus, the final sacrifice. He freely, willingly, and obediently took it. Romans 5:8 tells us: God demonstrated his love for us in this: That while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 2 Corinithians 5:21 tells us: God created him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Our Pastor, Joe Coffey, talked about idols for the last two weeks. These are not the wooden, stone, or metal images we think of. These are the "things" in our life that we put before God. The things we use to define ourselves. The things we think we cannot live without were they to die or disappear. Our jobs, talents, sports, families, friends, homes, hobbies, money. They help us to forget what is truly important, who made us, who we belong to, who we get our talents and abilities from. We may feel that because we work so hard, or practice so much, that our money, talents, and abilities are ours. But if we were to die tomorrow, what good would all these things do for us. Nothing.
I know that when something bad happens in my life I get angry at God and say "What did I do to deserve this?", "Why me?", "I prayed for this to happen and you have not made it happen", or the classic "It's just not fair." Talk about needing a reality check. What have I done solely for God? Sure I volunteer, but how often do I tell someone how good it makes me "feel" when I serve. I love to praise and worship through song, but how often do I say how good it makes me feel or how it makes me feel closer to God. How many times do I or anyone else give or do something because of how it makes me feel? It would appear that although I do it because I am called to as a Christian, I am doing it for what I gain. And yet if GRACE is freely given, then I cannot gain it.
Feeling good about how you act or what you do is not a bad thing, I am not saying that. But we need to make sure what our motives are. We need to have a humble heart when we praise or worship or give or serve. We cannot do it alone. We need God's help. We need to pray and ask. We can't say by our actions, because I have done this God I expect you to do this. How arrogant is that; giving God an ultimatum. I know the next time I do or want to say something, I'm gonna do a reality check.
But deep down we are all sinners. At our very core we want what we want, when we want it, and how we want it. We see our needs, wants, and desires as being more important than the next persons. We want a pat on our back when we do something well, and then we want to brag about it to others. I mean, it's only human. We begin our lives egocentric and we will end our lives the same way.
The is only one who is good. There is only one who is deserving. There is only one who is perfect. That is God. He created us and the world around us. It is His master plan, His design. If anyone deserves recognition and praise it is Him.
God gave us the greatest gift of all: His Son. Through Jesus we receive Salvation. And guess what, it is a free gift. There is nothing we can do or say to make us more deserving than the next person.
He has given us grace. Merriam Webster defines grace as: a virtue coming from God, unmerited divine assistance freely given to humans for their regeneration or santification. An act or instance of kindness, courtesy, or clemincy. A reprieve. Do you see these words? Freely given. Instance of kindness, unmerited divine assistance. There is nothing we can do to gain it. It cannot be worked for.
The punishment meant for us, death, was taken away. It was put on Jesus, the final sacrifice. He freely, willingly, and obediently took it. Romans 5:8 tells us: God demonstrated his love for us in this: That while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 2 Corinithians 5:21 tells us: God created him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Our Pastor, Joe Coffey, talked about idols for the last two weeks. These are not the wooden, stone, or metal images we think of. These are the "things" in our life that we put before God. The things we use to define ourselves. The things we think we cannot live without were they to die or disappear. Our jobs, talents, sports, families, friends, homes, hobbies, money. They help us to forget what is truly important, who made us, who we belong to, who we get our talents and abilities from. We may feel that because we work so hard, or practice so much, that our money, talents, and abilities are ours. But if we were to die tomorrow, what good would all these things do for us. Nothing.
I know that when something bad happens in my life I get angry at God and say "What did I do to deserve this?", "Why me?", "I prayed for this to happen and you have not made it happen", or the classic "It's just not fair." Talk about needing a reality check. What have I done solely for God? Sure I volunteer, but how often do I tell someone how good it makes me "feel" when I serve. I love to praise and worship through song, but how often do I say how good it makes me feel or how it makes me feel closer to God. How many times do I or anyone else give or do something because of how it makes me feel? It would appear that although I do it because I am called to as a Christian, I am doing it for what I gain. And yet if GRACE is freely given, then I cannot gain it.
Feeling good about how you act or what you do is not a bad thing, I am not saying that. But we need to make sure what our motives are. We need to have a humble heart when we praise or worship or give or serve. We cannot do it alone. We need God's help. We need to pray and ask. We can't say by our actions, because I have done this God I expect you to do this. How arrogant is that; giving God an ultimatum. I know the next time I do or want to say something, I'm gonna do a reality check.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
A Tale of Two Families
I'm adopted. I was born to Donna Jean Hornak on April 28, 1968. She made a very unselfish, difficult decision. She understood that she could not be able to care for me in the proper way, so she contacted an agency, and I was placed with another family.
Madlyn and Stanley Kechisen wanted to be parents. They wanted the opportunity to share their lives and love with a little child. Try as they may, they could not have children. No amount of time at a fertility clinic or on their knees in prayer would allow them to conceive. But God had a different idea. He knew they would be the perfect couple to love and care for this baby girl. This is the story they told me:
"Mommy and Daddy couldn't have a baby, so they filed papers with an agency that helps childless parents adopt a baby. We waited seven years. We went through many, many interviews, had to write letters about why we deserved a baby. We had to have other people write letters of recommendation to prove we would be good parents. One day the phone rang and a lady told me they had a little baby girl available. We could come to see her on Friday to make sure she was the one we wanted, or we could pick her up on Monday. Madlyn told the lady they did not need to see this baby, they already knew they loved her. They spent a very busy weekend getting everything they needed to have the house prepared for my arrival. Madlyn even had three different dresses she took with her so she could dress me in something she and my dad picked out. They became a family that Monday.
My parents were wonderful, loving, caring, and supportive people. The loved God and taught me about Him. I always knew, because they told me, that God picked me out special just for them.
Not long after my dad died in 1995, my mom called me and asked me to find my birth family. This is something I had never thought about doing because I was content with where God placed me. But she wanted me to do while she was alive. So I started my search. It took me less than a year to find Donna. Once I had her name, and knew she was divorced I could look up the divorce decree. That is when I found out I had two older, half brothers. In March of 1996 Donna and I would meet for lunch, get acquainted and share photographs.
She told me she always thought about me, but that only her mom knew about the pregnancy, birth, and adoption. My birth father was a married man, her first love. Although she got pregnant during her affair with him, she did not regret having me. She was glad I had searched her out. Eventually she would tell her mom and my brothers about me. She told her brother and also a few good friends. The Sunday after Easter that year I would meet them all. The amazing part was that she wanted to meet my mom as well.
The first words these women exchanged was "Thank You". They thanked each other for doing for the others what they could not do. My birth family embraced me and my mom, now I had an extended family.
My birth family were not Christians. They were not atheists either. They believed in Jesus, they had just not accepted Him as their Lord and Savior. Over the next few years they would attend Compassion to see me and my family perform. They would attend my son's baptism three two years later. They joined us for Christmas, Easter, and birthdays. I am not sure if it was our faith and belief in Jesus, our prayer for their salvation, or exposing them to His majesty, but it allowed them to be open to Him, and through other people my oldest brother, wife and daughter came to the Lord. It would be a few more years for Donna to accept Christ. Just this past November my other brother came to Christ. Prayers have been answered.
I would like to think that God brought me together with my birth family so I could share the gospel message with them. But everything is in His time and for His purpose. Both of my adoptive parents have gone to be with the Lord. Of that I am sure. I still have my birth family, and have remained close with them since 1995. I cannot imagine my life without them. I feel very blessed to have them in my life and in my children's lives. I believe it was orchestrated by God, because in this life there are no coincidences, only Godincidences. I been able to watch them change, their relationships change, their attitudes change since they have become believers. It helps to remind me of what is important.
Madlyn and Stanley Kechisen wanted to be parents. They wanted the opportunity to share their lives and love with a little child. Try as they may, they could not have children. No amount of time at a fertility clinic or on their knees in prayer would allow them to conceive. But God had a different idea. He knew they would be the perfect couple to love and care for this baby girl. This is the story they told me:
"Mommy and Daddy couldn't have a baby, so they filed papers with an agency that helps childless parents adopt a baby. We waited seven years. We went through many, many interviews, had to write letters about why we deserved a baby. We had to have other people write letters of recommendation to prove we would be good parents. One day the phone rang and a lady told me they had a little baby girl available. We could come to see her on Friday to make sure she was the one we wanted, or we could pick her up on Monday. Madlyn told the lady they did not need to see this baby, they already knew they loved her. They spent a very busy weekend getting everything they needed to have the house prepared for my arrival. Madlyn even had three different dresses she took with her so she could dress me in something she and my dad picked out. They became a family that Monday.
My parents were wonderful, loving, caring, and supportive people. The loved God and taught me about Him. I always knew, because they told me, that God picked me out special just for them.
Not long after my dad died in 1995, my mom called me and asked me to find my birth family. This is something I had never thought about doing because I was content with where God placed me. But she wanted me to do while she was alive. So I started my search. It took me less than a year to find Donna. Once I had her name, and knew she was divorced I could look up the divorce decree. That is when I found out I had two older, half brothers. In March of 1996 Donna and I would meet for lunch, get acquainted and share photographs.
She told me she always thought about me, but that only her mom knew about the pregnancy, birth, and adoption. My birth father was a married man, her first love. Although she got pregnant during her affair with him, she did not regret having me. She was glad I had searched her out. Eventually she would tell her mom and my brothers about me. She told her brother and also a few good friends. The Sunday after Easter that year I would meet them all. The amazing part was that she wanted to meet my mom as well.
The first words these women exchanged was "Thank You". They thanked each other for doing for the others what they could not do. My birth family embraced me and my mom, now I had an extended family.
My birth family were not Christians. They were not atheists either. They believed in Jesus, they had just not accepted Him as their Lord and Savior. Over the next few years they would attend Compassion to see me and my family perform. They would attend my son's baptism three two years later. They joined us for Christmas, Easter, and birthdays. I am not sure if it was our faith and belief in Jesus, our prayer for their salvation, or exposing them to His majesty, but it allowed them to be open to Him, and through other people my oldest brother, wife and daughter came to the Lord. It would be a few more years for Donna to accept Christ. Just this past November my other brother came to Christ. Prayers have been answered.
I would like to think that God brought me together with my birth family so I could share the gospel message with them. But everything is in His time and for His purpose. Both of my adoptive parents have gone to be with the Lord. Of that I am sure. I still have my birth family, and have remained close with them since 1995. I cannot imagine my life without them. I feel very blessed to have them in my life and in my children's lives. I believe it was orchestrated by God, because in this life there are no coincidences, only Godincidences. I been able to watch them change, their relationships change, their attitudes change since they have become believers. It helps to remind me of what is important.
Friday, August 26, 2011
A Vision
Our family was in a Passion Play Musical for ten years. It was called "Compassion". A musical drama about the last week of Christ's life, but from Peter's perspective. The play opens with Old Peter in prison. He knows the time has almost come for his execution, and in order to draw strength he talks about his life from the time Christ called him at the Sea of Galilee til the Resurrection. Young Peter is a part of the production following Christ through all the scenes. For the non-Christian or the Chrisian who is not well versed in the life of Christ, Old Peter fills in all the gaps.
My husband Marc played a few different apostles, but mainly his role was that of John, the Beloved disciple. I play a few different roles, from an Archangel, to Mary, the mother of Christ, to my main role of the Samaritan Woman. I had two Compassion pregnancies, talk about a new spin on the Samaritan Woman. Our children also starred in roles from before they could walk, to sitting on Jesus' lap, to singing. It was six weekends, from Ash Wedesday through Good Friday. It was exhausting, but rewarding.
Many of our friends came out in support at least once to view the play. Marc's dad even saw it when he was in from Virginia. As usual, my parents came at least twice every year. We made a lot of friends and called them our Compassion family. I was also in charge of make-up, and had the honor of doing the make-up for Jesus, just so his eyeliner did not resemble that of Alice Cooper he would say.
During our third season of the play, my mother-in-law lost her battle with cancer. That year Compassion was dedicated to her memory. That same year, three month later my dad died unexpectly of a massive heart attack. Our Compassion family was there to support us through both. The following year the play was dedicated to his memory. But that following year, I lost some of my vigor for the play. It would be different without my biggest fan. I went through the motions, and because I am such a good actress, no one knew how much it bothered me or what I was missing.
During Act II, I did not have a huge part since it was mostly about the scheming Pharisees and Sadducees and the trial. I spent alot of time back stage praying and thinking. But this particular year, I was moping more than praying. Around weekend three I was hiding in a good spot back stage. No one knew where it was so I could be alone. All of a sudden I got really warm, then felt a slight breeze, and thought I heard my dad's voice saying "I'm OK Paula, I'm happy". I told no one because I figured they would think I was nuts. A few weeks later, during the Pieta scene, I looked up because I thought I felt someone looking at me. On the other side of the stage, next to the empty cross, I saw a vision of my dad, sitting there smiling. I did a double take because I could not believe it.
After that weekend, I talked to some friends about my experience. I prayed about it. I wrestled with it. I figured out that God was unhappy that my heart was not in the ministry. I figured out He needed to shake me up a little, send my a message that it was OK to move on. Obviously using the music and the ministry of the play was not working. God will used whatever means possible to get your attention.
The final song of the play is called "Trust in the Lord". It is based on Proverbs 3:5: Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will bless all your days. This is what I needed to return to. Yes, my dad was gone, he would never be in the audience to watch. But my Heavenly Father is always watching. He is always cheering for me. He IS my biggest fan. Hard to comprehend, but it's true. But He wants so much more than to be in the audience watching. He wants to be a part of my life. He wants to walk beside me, hold my hand, be a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on. He wants to hold me, comfort me, laugh with me. Unless you really and truly Trust in Him with ALL your heart, and acknowledge Him in everything, he can't do that. You see, the God I believe in, trust in, count on, is a gentleman. He will not push Himself on you, barge into your life, and take over. He is waiting for an invitation. He will accept it.
Are you willing to open your heart to Him. Are you willing to open the door to Him. In Revelation 3:20 Jesus says "Here I am, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." He is waiting patiently. Will you let him in?
My husband Marc played a few different apostles, but mainly his role was that of John, the Beloved disciple. I play a few different roles, from an Archangel, to Mary, the mother of Christ, to my main role of the Samaritan Woman. I had two Compassion pregnancies, talk about a new spin on the Samaritan Woman. Our children also starred in roles from before they could walk, to sitting on Jesus' lap, to singing. It was six weekends, from Ash Wedesday through Good Friday. It was exhausting, but rewarding.
Many of our friends came out in support at least once to view the play. Marc's dad even saw it when he was in from Virginia. As usual, my parents came at least twice every year. We made a lot of friends and called them our Compassion family. I was also in charge of make-up, and had the honor of doing the make-up for Jesus, just so his eyeliner did not resemble that of Alice Cooper he would say.
During our third season of the play, my mother-in-law lost her battle with cancer. That year Compassion was dedicated to her memory. That same year, three month later my dad died unexpectly of a massive heart attack. Our Compassion family was there to support us through both. The following year the play was dedicated to his memory. But that following year, I lost some of my vigor for the play. It would be different without my biggest fan. I went through the motions, and because I am such a good actress, no one knew how much it bothered me or what I was missing.
During Act II, I did not have a huge part since it was mostly about the scheming Pharisees and Sadducees and the trial. I spent alot of time back stage praying and thinking. But this particular year, I was moping more than praying. Around weekend three I was hiding in a good spot back stage. No one knew where it was so I could be alone. All of a sudden I got really warm, then felt a slight breeze, and thought I heard my dad's voice saying "I'm OK Paula, I'm happy". I told no one because I figured they would think I was nuts. A few weeks later, during the Pieta scene, I looked up because I thought I felt someone looking at me. On the other side of the stage, next to the empty cross, I saw a vision of my dad, sitting there smiling. I did a double take because I could not believe it.
After that weekend, I talked to some friends about my experience. I prayed about it. I wrestled with it. I figured out that God was unhappy that my heart was not in the ministry. I figured out He needed to shake me up a little, send my a message that it was OK to move on. Obviously using the music and the ministry of the play was not working. God will used whatever means possible to get your attention.
The final song of the play is called "Trust in the Lord". It is based on Proverbs 3:5: Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will bless all your days. This is what I needed to return to. Yes, my dad was gone, he would never be in the audience to watch. But my Heavenly Father is always watching. He is always cheering for me. He IS my biggest fan. Hard to comprehend, but it's true. But He wants so much more than to be in the audience watching. He wants to be a part of my life. He wants to walk beside me, hold my hand, be a shoulder to cry on, someone to lean on. He wants to hold me, comfort me, laugh with me. Unless you really and truly Trust in Him with ALL your heart, and acknowledge Him in everything, he can't do that. You see, the God I believe in, trust in, count on, is a gentleman. He will not push Himself on you, barge into your life, and take over. He is waiting for an invitation. He will accept it.
Are you willing to open your heart to Him. Are you willing to open the door to Him. In Revelation 3:20 Jesus says "Here I am, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me." He is waiting patiently. Will you let him in?
Thursday, August 25, 2011
A Father's Love
I consider myself to be very fortunate and very blessed. I had the world's most awesome daddy. He loved me unconditionally. He was my biggest fan, I could never do any wrong. If I messed up, forgiveness was instant. Because of that, I tried my best to never disappoint him. I always wanted to see him look at me with those eyes of love. You could say I was "daddy's little girl".
Whenever someone talks about their dad in a negative way, I just don't get it. To hear or read about stories where dad's are absentee, abusive, disinterested astounds me. I can't understand how someone could have or adopt a child and not feel love and responsibility for them.
When my dad passed away to be with the Lord in June of 1995 I was devastated. I had never lost anyone that close to me, sure I had relatives that passed away, but dad was my best friend, my hero. I felt like something broke in my heart that day, and did not think it could ever be fixed. Once I got through the funeral and dad's casket was lowered into the ground, the whole in my heart was endless. While my one year old daughter would nap ever afternoon, I would stare out the window for two hours and not even realize it. It would seem like I had just laid her down and then I would hear her sweet voice in the baby monitor.
After about six months of this behavior I came to realize it had to stop. I was not rejoicing in what I had. I was not celebrating all the milestones my daughter was experiencing. I was dead inside. I needed to wake up and get my life back. It was then I decided to go into counseling. I needed someone else to help get me out of my dark pit. During this time, my prayer life was non existant. The only time I talked to God was to yell at Him. I could not believe that a God who was supposed to want the best for me, who supposedly loved my unconditionally, would just steal my best friend out of my life. My daughter and any future children I would be lucky enough to have would never truly know the love of their grandpa. How is that fair?
During my sessions with my counselor she told me I had to figure out who I was? What kind of question is that? I knew who I was. I was Paula Kechisen Collins: daughter, wife, and mother. But it made me think. I was no longer "daddy's little girl". My hero and biggest fan would not be there to cheer me on anymore. I could not hear his voice over the telephone when I would tell him all the amazing things his granddaughter was doing and experiencing. I had forgotten who I really belonged to.
I had a Father in Heaven just waiting for me to call out, run into his open arms. He had not left me or abandoned me, but somehow when my earthly father died, I felt like my Heavenly Father was also gone. See, I pictured God and my dad to be one in the same. My earthly father was my measure of what God was like, and because I had the most awesome father, it was easy to picture my Heavenly Father the same way.
One of the assignments my counselor gave me after about five or six sessions was to write a letter to my dad. To tell him what I was feeling, the good, the bad, and the ugly. At the end of that letter I promised to write a song in honor of him. It took a while, but after a few more months I was able to accomplish that task. But the writing of this letter helped me to put things in perspective, lay it all out there, so I could see it and deal with it. A very handy exercise.
Loved ones who die never truly leave us. Yeah, their physical bodies may perish and disappear, by in our hearts, minds, conversations, pictures and videos they remain alive and well. Just the same, God never leaves us. We may not be able to physically see Him, but He is all around us. In the beauty of a spring day, the laughter of children, the words to a song, a smile or word of encouragement from a loved one, but most importantly in His Word, the Bible. How can we truly know who He is, what He promises, His plan for our lives, and how much He loves us if we discount this book, this love letter to us. He tells us He will never leave or forsake us, that He has a plan for our lives, that He loved us so much He would die for us so we could live in eternity with Him. He will carry our load, wipe away our tears, love us unconditionally, search us out when we loose our way. It is all in there, you just have to look.
When you have a best friend, you take the time to get to know them. You call them on the phone, go out for coffee, have dinner together, take walks together, console one another, laugh together. If never open God's Word, you cannot know Him that intimately. Believe me, He wants to know you and wants you to know Him better. In 2 Peter 3:9 it says "The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." What more can we ask for.
The chorus to my song about my dad also applies to my Heavenly Father. "A father's love comes straight from the heart, it is pure and unconditional. It keeps you safe and warm, strong and secure. You can always count on a father's love. And now I know you are still here with me, though I can't always see your face." Isn't that His promise?
Whenever someone talks about their dad in a negative way, I just don't get it. To hear or read about stories where dad's are absentee, abusive, disinterested astounds me. I can't understand how someone could have or adopt a child and not feel love and responsibility for them.
When my dad passed away to be with the Lord in June of 1995 I was devastated. I had never lost anyone that close to me, sure I had relatives that passed away, but dad was my best friend, my hero. I felt like something broke in my heart that day, and did not think it could ever be fixed. Once I got through the funeral and dad's casket was lowered into the ground, the whole in my heart was endless. While my one year old daughter would nap ever afternoon, I would stare out the window for two hours and not even realize it. It would seem like I had just laid her down and then I would hear her sweet voice in the baby monitor.
After about six months of this behavior I came to realize it had to stop. I was not rejoicing in what I had. I was not celebrating all the milestones my daughter was experiencing. I was dead inside. I needed to wake up and get my life back. It was then I decided to go into counseling. I needed someone else to help get me out of my dark pit. During this time, my prayer life was non existant. The only time I talked to God was to yell at Him. I could not believe that a God who was supposed to want the best for me, who supposedly loved my unconditionally, would just steal my best friend out of my life. My daughter and any future children I would be lucky enough to have would never truly know the love of their grandpa. How is that fair?
During my sessions with my counselor she told me I had to figure out who I was? What kind of question is that? I knew who I was. I was Paula Kechisen Collins: daughter, wife, and mother. But it made me think. I was no longer "daddy's little girl". My hero and biggest fan would not be there to cheer me on anymore. I could not hear his voice over the telephone when I would tell him all the amazing things his granddaughter was doing and experiencing. I had forgotten who I really belonged to.
I had a Father in Heaven just waiting for me to call out, run into his open arms. He had not left me or abandoned me, but somehow when my earthly father died, I felt like my Heavenly Father was also gone. See, I pictured God and my dad to be one in the same. My earthly father was my measure of what God was like, and because I had the most awesome father, it was easy to picture my Heavenly Father the same way.
One of the assignments my counselor gave me after about five or six sessions was to write a letter to my dad. To tell him what I was feeling, the good, the bad, and the ugly. At the end of that letter I promised to write a song in honor of him. It took a while, but after a few more months I was able to accomplish that task. But the writing of this letter helped me to put things in perspective, lay it all out there, so I could see it and deal with it. A very handy exercise.
Loved ones who die never truly leave us. Yeah, their physical bodies may perish and disappear, by in our hearts, minds, conversations, pictures and videos they remain alive and well. Just the same, God never leaves us. We may not be able to physically see Him, but He is all around us. In the beauty of a spring day, the laughter of children, the words to a song, a smile or word of encouragement from a loved one, but most importantly in His Word, the Bible. How can we truly know who He is, what He promises, His plan for our lives, and how much He loves us if we discount this book, this love letter to us. He tells us He will never leave or forsake us, that He has a plan for our lives, that He loved us so much He would die for us so we could live in eternity with Him. He will carry our load, wipe away our tears, love us unconditionally, search us out when we loose our way. It is all in there, you just have to look.
When you have a best friend, you take the time to get to know them. You call them on the phone, go out for coffee, have dinner together, take walks together, console one another, laugh together. If never open God's Word, you cannot know Him that intimately. Believe me, He wants to know you and wants you to know Him better. In 2 Peter 3:9 it says "The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." What more can we ask for.
The chorus to my song about my dad also applies to my Heavenly Father. "A father's love comes straight from the heart, it is pure and unconditional. It keeps you safe and warm, strong and secure. You can always count on a father's love. And now I know you are still here with me, though I can't always see your face." Isn't that His promise?
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
My Knight in Shining Armor
Last time I blogged I told you about the vicitimization of my innocence and some bad choices I made as a result. I also told you about the healing that started to take place after my experience with the faith healer and God telling me "it's not your fault."
Even though I was on the road to recovery and beginning to reclaim my self-esteem and worth I continued to make poor choices when it came to dating men. Ridding myself of that feeling of unworthiness and dirtiness took a very long time. I would date anyone who would ask me out. Many of those choices were abusive relationships, both physically and verbally.
That all changed when I met my husband of 20 years. I was working in a salon downtown in the city when this really handsome man walks in for a haircut. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, a beard and moustache, in a business suit. WOW! I could not take my eyes off of him. And, as luck would have it, he was to be my client. I would get to spend 30 minutes of which my sole attention and hopefully his would be just on the two of us.
I started with my usual small talk, you know, where do you work, what do you do for a living, how old are you, any girlfriends or a wife, sports, past times, hobbies, etc. We flirted and smiled at each other during that half hour, then he left. Though I must say, he was not a very good tipper. (hehe)
Four weeks later he comes in and requests me. Oh yeah, who is happy now? That's right, ME! We talk and flirt some more, but deep down I know it cannot go any further because our salon has a policy of "no dating customers". This goes on for a few months, and then one Thurday when I see he is coming in, I decide to call him to ask if he would be interested in drinks. This is when I find out he has a girlfriend. DRAT. I should have expected that. However, one month later, as he is leaving he slips me a note telling me to call him. So I do. We agree to meet for drinks and hor dearves at 6:00. We continue in this style for a few weeks. This was fine with me because I was still dating someone, even though it was one of those abusive relationships.
As he and I begin to get serious I break off my other relationship. While we are progressing in getting to know each other I keep waiting for things to change. See around this point all the other guys would start belittling me or hitting me, but this guy is different. He treats me with respect and dignity. He seems almost too good to be true. How sad is that? Meanwhile, the other guy I broke up with starts to stalk me. How creepy is that?
As I am going through all this my faith is getting stronger. I begin to get to know my God better, am listening to more Christian Contemporary Music. Songs like "Arms of Love" by Amy Grant and "Sometimes by Step" by Rich Mullen's are working their healing power on me. My God is speaking to me using a medium I love, MUSIC. He is sharing his love with me and letting me know I am worth something. The song "Jehovah" tells me that even if God care for things like flowers and birds, how much more I am worth. I decide to try my hand at music.
I work on writing lyrics that I am familar with, like the ones from the 80's, trying to mimic singers and groups like Pat Benetar, Journey, Dan Fogleberg and the like. But I am coming up short. The words do not flow, let alone melodies. You see, God wanted so much more for me, I had to listen and become obedient. Then one day while at the park, my favorite place to write, different words came to mind. I am looking around me, at the rushing water, the hiking trails, the shore, the ducks, the birds, and start writing about what I am thankful for, and my first song of Christian lyrics comes to be.
Even though my husband was not a Christian when we began dating, I truly believe God brought him into my life. His gentleness and respect started to change my outlook about myself and my future. He was God's instrument and he did not even know it. As my perception changed, my ability to write music was given to me by God. When people would ask me why "religious" music, I would say, why not?
God knows what we need, we just need to be open to his suggestion. My life verse comes from Jeremiah 29:11: For I know the plans I have for you says the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you a hope and future. I believe those words, though I may not always show it. He knew I needed my husband, a man who would love, encourage, and support me throughout my life. He knew that I could use my creative writing talent in praise and worship of His Name.
My husband will tell you I am not the easiest person to live with. My old demon's of self-worth, doubt, and insecurity come back to haunt me occasionally. But he never gives up on me. We have been together for 22 years, and in October of 2011 we will celebrate 20 years of marriage. Although he hates the title, he is "My Knight in Shining Armor", but God is my King.
Even though I was on the road to recovery and beginning to reclaim my self-esteem and worth I continued to make poor choices when it came to dating men. Ridding myself of that feeling of unworthiness and dirtiness took a very long time. I would date anyone who would ask me out. Many of those choices were abusive relationships, both physically and verbally.
That all changed when I met my husband of 20 years. I was working in a salon downtown in the city when this really handsome man walks in for a haircut. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, a beard and moustache, in a business suit. WOW! I could not take my eyes off of him. And, as luck would have it, he was to be my client. I would get to spend 30 minutes of which my sole attention and hopefully his would be just on the two of us.
I started with my usual small talk, you know, where do you work, what do you do for a living, how old are you, any girlfriends or a wife, sports, past times, hobbies, etc. We flirted and smiled at each other during that half hour, then he left. Though I must say, he was not a very good tipper. (hehe)
Four weeks later he comes in and requests me. Oh yeah, who is happy now? That's right, ME! We talk and flirt some more, but deep down I know it cannot go any further because our salon has a policy of "no dating customers". This goes on for a few months, and then one Thurday when I see he is coming in, I decide to call him to ask if he would be interested in drinks. This is when I find out he has a girlfriend. DRAT. I should have expected that. However, one month later, as he is leaving he slips me a note telling me to call him. So I do. We agree to meet for drinks and hor dearves at 6:00. We continue in this style for a few weeks. This was fine with me because I was still dating someone, even though it was one of those abusive relationships.
As he and I begin to get serious I break off my other relationship. While we are progressing in getting to know each other I keep waiting for things to change. See around this point all the other guys would start belittling me or hitting me, but this guy is different. He treats me with respect and dignity. He seems almost too good to be true. How sad is that? Meanwhile, the other guy I broke up with starts to stalk me. How creepy is that?
As I am going through all this my faith is getting stronger. I begin to get to know my God better, am listening to more Christian Contemporary Music. Songs like "Arms of Love" by Amy Grant and "Sometimes by Step" by Rich Mullen's are working their healing power on me. My God is speaking to me using a medium I love, MUSIC. He is sharing his love with me and letting me know I am worth something. The song "Jehovah" tells me that even if God care for things like flowers and birds, how much more I am worth. I decide to try my hand at music.
I work on writing lyrics that I am familar with, like the ones from the 80's, trying to mimic singers and groups like Pat Benetar, Journey, Dan Fogleberg and the like. But I am coming up short. The words do not flow, let alone melodies. You see, God wanted so much more for me, I had to listen and become obedient. Then one day while at the park, my favorite place to write, different words came to mind. I am looking around me, at the rushing water, the hiking trails, the shore, the ducks, the birds, and start writing about what I am thankful for, and my first song of Christian lyrics comes to be.
Even though my husband was not a Christian when we began dating, I truly believe God brought him into my life. His gentleness and respect started to change my outlook about myself and my future. He was God's instrument and he did not even know it. As my perception changed, my ability to write music was given to me by God. When people would ask me why "religious" music, I would say, why not?
God knows what we need, we just need to be open to his suggestion. My life verse comes from Jeremiah 29:11: For I know the plans I have for you says the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you a hope and future. I believe those words, though I may not always show it. He knew I needed my husband, a man who would love, encourage, and support me throughout my life. He knew that I could use my creative writing talent in praise and worship of His Name.
My husband will tell you I am not the easiest person to live with. My old demon's of self-worth, doubt, and insecurity come back to haunt me occasionally. But he never gives up on me. We have been together for 22 years, and in October of 2011 we will celebrate 20 years of marriage. Although he hates the title, he is "My Knight in Shining Armor", but God is my King.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Being a Victim Doesn't Have to Destroy You
My experience sophomore year helped me to see how special I was in God's eyes. It started me on a true journey to get to know Him better and live a life that was pleasing to Him. It helped to solidify the values and morals I had been raised with and also showed me that these things are pleasing to God. I wanted to keep my focus to help plan out my future. I had a dream. Finish high school, go on to cosmetology school, get a good job, find the perfect guy, get married and have children. I had a plan and nothing would deter me.
The summer of 1986 would change me in ways I had never imagined. I went back to my job from the previous summer babysitting for two little boys. It was the perfect job, at least for me. Although I had the responsibility of keeping the boys safe, I also got to play all summer long, and get paid to do it. The family I worked for had moved from their previous home 10 minutes from me across town to what was now a 40 minute drive. They moved into a nice neighborhood that had a playground nearby and a fenced in back yard.
I met a few neighbors as the summer began. The man who lived behind them had a swimming pool, and the family told me when he was home it was fine to take the boys. It was an easy jump over the back fence, and there would be two people to watch the boys swim. It also helped that the man was in his early twenties, single, seemed nice, and good looking. Every 18 year old girls dream to have someone attractive to innocently flirt with while at work. He worked third shirt so he was up in the afternoons to start his day and get ready for work.
As the summer continued the boys and I went to swim about once or twice a week. I loved the fact that he noticed me, was kind, and smiled a lot. What teenage girl doesn't enjoy attention. As my summer job was drawing to a close a package arrived for the handsome neighbor while he was not home. I told the couple I worked for I would deliver it after I finished up work for the day.
I will never forget that Friday, July 26, 1986 for as long as I live. I learned that wolves could be found in sheeps clothing. When I stopped at his house to drop off the package, he asked if I would like to come in for a soda while he finished up what he was doing before work. I said sure, since I figured I got to know him and he seemed nice. As soon as I was in the house he attacked me. I was thrown on the floor and my innocence stolen from me. I was ashamed and embarrassed as I left. He had me convinced I wanted this by the way I flirted. It was my first intimate encounter with a man and it was dirty and violent. Not at all like I imagined it would be with my husband someday. I was saving myself for that.
I left and told no one. I became withdrawn to some extent and was told later that my parents experienced my nightmares. Six weeks after the attack I found myself pregnant, something else I had not planned but was done to me. Here I was raised with the values of intimacy and children are only to happen within the sanctity of marriage. Because I blamed myself, I felt that I had let myself, my future spouse, my parents, but especially my God down. That was when I made my next mistake, I terminated the pregnancy. Not realizing that this would plague my thoughts for years to come.
Thus started my downward spiral. I began to drink and smoke pot to dull the pain. Because I felt dirty, disgusting, and unworthy, I also became promiscuous. No good man would want me now. After about a year of this behaviour I finally made the decision to get help. Through individual and group therapy I started to heal. I told my parents, who were hurt I did not confide in them. They were no disappointed in me as I thought they would be. They loved me and told me I was still pure in God's eyes, though I did not believe it.
A faith healer came to my church. I was with the the praise and worship team so I would be in attendance. Something told me to give it a try so I got in line to await my turn. The faith healer, a woman of great faith, stopped when she was about 10 people away, walk over to me with tears in her eyes, took my face in both hands, and said the four words I needed to hear "It's not your fault". I knew they were directly from God. That he used her to convey his message so I could start to heal. I stopped my new way of coping through denial and deadening of pain, and renewed my trust in Him.
The healing began. Although it took a little time, I stopped blaming myself for the victimization and my actions that began as a result. My self -esteem and worth began to come back and I continued with my plan for the future. With God, all things are possible. In Philippians 4:13 it states "I can do all things through God who gives me strength." Truer words have never been spoken. It was shortly after my "faith healer" experience that I came across scripture that would become my life verse. The words of Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, plans to give you a hope and a future."
Even though I fell victim to someone else's evil does not mean that I cannot use the experience to grow and maybe someday help another. Scripture tells us we will be "refined with fire". These stumbling blocks we encounter are designed to draw us closer to God. To show us how much we need Him for help and support. When we reach out to Him in our times of trouble He rejoices. He welcomes it. As it says in the prayer Footprints: "At those times in your life when you see only one set of footprints in the sand, it was then that I carried you." Let God carry you. He wants to.
The summer of 1986 would change me in ways I had never imagined. I went back to my job from the previous summer babysitting for two little boys. It was the perfect job, at least for me. Although I had the responsibility of keeping the boys safe, I also got to play all summer long, and get paid to do it. The family I worked for had moved from their previous home 10 minutes from me across town to what was now a 40 minute drive. They moved into a nice neighborhood that had a playground nearby and a fenced in back yard.
I met a few neighbors as the summer began. The man who lived behind them had a swimming pool, and the family told me when he was home it was fine to take the boys. It was an easy jump over the back fence, and there would be two people to watch the boys swim. It also helped that the man was in his early twenties, single, seemed nice, and good looking. Every 18 year old girls dream to have someone attractive to innocently flirt with while at work. He worked third shirt so he was up in the afternoons to start his day and get ready for work.
As the summer continued the boys and I went to swim about once or twice a week. I loved the fact that he noticed me, was kind, and smiled a lot. What teenage girl doesn't enjoy attention. As my summer job was drawing to a close a package arrived for the handsome neighbor while he was not home. I told the couple I worked for I would deliver it after I finished up work for the day.
I will never forget that Friday, July 26, 1986 for as long as I live. I learned that wolves could be found in sheeps clothing. When I stopped at his house to drop off the package, he asked if I would like to come in for a soda while he finished up what he was doing before work. I said sure, since I figured I got to know him and he seemed nice. As soon as I was in the house he attacked me. I was thrown on the floor and my innocence stolen from me. I was ashamed and embarrassed as I left. He had me convinced I wanted this by the way I flirted. It was my first intimate encounter with a man and it was dirty and violent. Not at all like I imagined it would be with my husband someday. I was saving myself for that.
I left and told no one. I became withdrawn to some extent and was told later that my parents experienced my nightmares. Six weeks after the attack I found myself pregnant, something else I had not planned but was done to me. Here I was raised with the values of intimacy and children are only to happen within the sanctity of marriage. Because I blamed myself, I felt that I had let myself, my future spouse, my parents, but especially my God down. That was when I made my next mistake, I terminated the pregnancy. Not realizing that this would plague my thoughts for years to come.
Thus started my downward spiral. I began to drink and smoke pot to dull the pain. Because I felt dirty, disgusting, and unworthy, I also became promiscuous. No good man would want me now. After about a year of this behaviour I finally made the decision to get help. Through individual and group therapy I started to heal. I told my parents, who were hurt I did not confide in them. They were no disappointed in me as I thought they would be. They loved me and told me I was still pure in God's eyes, though I did not believe it.
A faith healer came to my church. I was with the the praise and worship team so I would be in attendance. Something told me to give it a try so I got in line to await my turn. The faith healer, a woman of great faith, stopped when she was about 10 people away, walk over to me with tears in her eyes, took my face in both hands, and said the four words I needed to hear "It's not your fault". I knew they were directly from God. That he used her to convey his message so I could start to heal. I stopped my new way of coping through denial and deadening of pain, and renewed my trust in Him.
The healing began. Although it took a little time, I stopped blaming myself for the victimization and my actions that began as a result. My self -esteem and worth began to come back and I continued with my plan for the future. With God, all things are possible. In Philippians 4:13 it states "I can do all things through God who gives me strength." Truer words have never been spoken. It was shortly after my "faith healer" experience that I came across scripture that would become my life verse. The words of Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord, plans to give you a hope and a future."
Even though I fell victim to someone else's evil does not mean that I cannot use the experience to grow and maybe someday help another. Scripture tells us we will be "refined with fire". These stumbling blocks we encounter are designed to draw us closer to God. To show us how much we need Him for help and support. When we reach out to Him in our times of trouble He rejoices. He welcomes it. As it says in the prayer Footprints: "At those times in your life when you see only one set of footprints in the sand, it was then that I carried you." Let God carry you. He wants to.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
So Young, So Naive
When you are young you live in the moment. You cannot see the future and how life can change. You do not realize that this era of your life is so short and you have your life in front of you. This is how I was during my adolescence.
I was shy, quiet, followed the rules. I didn't have many friends for whatever reason. Maybe it was because I always tried to do what was right. I also suffered from low self-esteem. I saw myself as ugly, friendless, fat, unwanted, even though my parents told me differently. I figured they had to say that because I was their daughter.
I kept my feelings to myself, all bottled up inside. I felt like my life was out of control. I wanted control over something since I could not have control over who my friends were, if boys thought I was pretty or not. I figured if I was just a little thinner, boy would like me and I would be popular. I started dieting, which led to anorexia. It is a terrible disease that can spin out of control so easily you do not realize it until it is too late. If I had to eat, yes you guessed it, I would purge myself. See these were things I had control over: how much I ate or did not eat, and what I put into my body. I eventually went down to 80 lbs, when I started out at only 100 lbs. When that was not enough I turned to what is now a very common form of self-mutilation: cutting. The physical pain I experienced when I felt I could no longer cope helped to erase the emotional and mental pain I felt at the time. Thus, something else I could control.
Some friends saw me during gym class and set up on intervention at the school psychologist's office. I felt betrayed and embarrassed; my secret was out. But I came to see it as beneficial as time went on and I met with my counselor weekly.
On a retreat Sophomore year is when I finally came to understand God's grace. I have always loved Jesus, that was not the point. It is just up to this point I saw him as the Jesus from all great children's stories, with the little children sitting on his lap or surrounded with animals. Not a bad picture, but not the whole picture. But I digress. A girl stood up and gave her testimony. It was nice but did not really speak to me. However, the song she chose to play after caused me to break down and weep. It was the song "El Shaddai" sung by Amy Grant. Up to this point I was only familiar with praise & worship music and hymns. The lyrics to this song spoke to my heart. I finally understood that I had a Heavenly Father who adored me. That if I were the only person on the earth He would have died to save me. That it was not about who I was friends with, if I were popular, that I belonged first and foremost to God. The song saved my life and changed my outlook. I was useless the remainder of the retreat, but not for the rest of my life.
Jesus is the only one who can truly save you. He wants to, desperately wants to. His unconditional love is indescribable and overwhelming. It does not mean you will never have hurdles to jump, dragons to slay, obstacles to overcome. What it does mean is that you have a God that loves you so much, He wants to bear your burden, be your rock, your shelter, your comforter. Reach out to Him.
I was shy, quiet, followed the rules. I didn't have many friends for whatever reason. Maybe it was because I always tried to do what was right. I also suffered from low self-esteem. I saw myself as ugly, friendless, fat, unwanted, even though my parents told me differently. I figured they had to say that because I was their daughter.
I kept my feelings to myself, all bottled up inside. I felt like my life was out of control. I wanted control over something since I could not have control over who my friends were, if boys thought I was pretty or not. I figured if I was just a little thinner, boy would like me and I would be popular. I started dieting, which led to anorexia. It is a terrible disease that can spin out of control so easily you do not realize it until it is too late. If I had to eat, yes you guessed it, I would purge myself. See these were things I had control over: how much I ate or did not eat, and what I put into my body. I eventually went down to 80 lbs, when I started out at only 100 lbs. When that was not enough I turned to what is now a very common form of self-mutilation: cutting. The physical pain I experienced when I felt I could no longer cope helped to erase the emotional and mental pain I felt at the time. Thus, something else I could control.
Some friends saw me during gym class and set up on intervention at the school psychologist's office. I felt betrayed and embarrassed; my secret was out. But I came to see it as beneficial as time went on and I met with my counselor weekly.
On a retreat Sophomore year is when I finally came to understand God's grace. I have always loved Jesus, that was not the point. It is just up to this point I saw him as the Jesus from all great children's stories, with the little children sitting on his lap or surrounded with animals. Not a bad picture, but not the whole picture. But I digress. A girl stood up and gave her testimony. It was nice but did not really speak to me. However, the song she chose to play after caused me to break down and weep. It was the song "El Shaddai" sung by Amy Grant. Up to this point I was only familiar with praise & worship music and hymns. The lyrics to this song spoke to my heart. I finally understood that I had a Heavenly Father who adored me. That if I were the only person on the earth He would have died to save me. That it was not about who I was friends with, if I were popular, that I belonged first and foremost to God. The song saved my life and changed my outlook. I was useless the remainder of the retreat, but not for the rest of my life.
Jesus is the only one who can truly save you. He wants to, desperately wants to. His unconditional love is indescribable and overwhelming. It does not mean you will never have hurdles to jump, dragons to slay, obstacles to overcome. What it does mean is that you have a God that loves you so much, He wants to bear your burden, be your rock, your shelter, your comforter. Reach out to Him.
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