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God has been very merciful to me. I haven't led a perfect life--I've done my share of straying away; yet, even during some of those times, God in His mercy has blessed me in so many ways. By sharing these stories with you, I pray that your faith will be strengthened. God is very real - I cannot deny His existence, because He has worked in my life in ways that humans could not.

In My Youth.

From my earliest years my family attended church regularly--a small country Presbyterian church with a congregation consisting primarily of my father's family who owned neighboring farms. As a young child of maybe five years old, I recall one Sunday afternoon thinking, "This God stuff is too hard to understand. I'll wait until I'm a grownup to worry about it." BUT, that wasn't God's plan. It wasn't long after that that God began on occasion appearing to me in mental visions and talking with me. He was an elderly looking man--long whitish gray hair with long beard and mustache. Although I don't specifically remember the content of any of our conversations, I do recall that He was so full of love. Indeed God very much loves and cares about children.

When I was somewhat older (although I don't recall at what age, but probably before the age of 10), I was surprised one winter day while helping to stack logs for the wood stove that Jesus appeared before me in a vision. He was somewhat ghostlike, in that I could see through him. He asked, "Why are you building your house on the sand?" (words that I later realized were biblical). After that I would on occasion see visions of Jesus, and He would sit with me or walk with me and we would talk about things. One particular place that I recall seeing Jesus on several occasions was while sitting on one of the terraces in the pasture on my parents' farm admiring the lone majestic old tree that looms nearby. He was always very serious. After Jesus first appeared to me, it wasn't long until I no longer saw visions of God.

The High School Years.

Although we attended church regularly, our family environment growing up was far from ideal with two short-tempered parents who fought with each other frequently and who had very poor communication skills. There were many times when it was a stressful, depressing environment. By the time I reached high school I had internalized a lot of hurt, both from my immediate family and from perceived rejection by others, to the point that I developed an eating disorder (anorexia). I wasn't aware that what I was doing was potentially harmful. Rather, in retrospect, I now realize that the all-consuming thought processes that go along with anorexia for me served as an escape from the hurt I felt inside. I scarcely ate anything--eating only minuscule portions at meals--kept track of every calorie I ate, and exercised compulsively. But, like so many times in my life, God seemed to intervene on my behalf. Although my parents didn't seem to be aware of the things I was doing, one day my Mother had left a newspaper article on my dresser about anorexia (it wasn't unusual for my Mother to leave articles on our dressers for us to read). When I read it, I became alarmed as I recognized that the behaviors described were the things I had been doing. I am thankful to God for my Mother having left that article that day, but more importantly for the guidance to recognize that what I had been doing was harmful and for the strength to stop. And indeed God can work all things for good--early in 2000 I published on-line an article I had written about my anorexia and later in 2000 I established an on-line support group to assist those with anorexia (links for these sites can be found in the MENU near the bottom of this web site).

During my life I have had several experiences that could have resulted in my death. The summer before my freshman year in high school I was stung on the forehead by a wasp and began having an anaphylactic reaction. My parents didn't recognize the seriousness of my reaction, but that day my Dad's cousin was there helping with their remodeling and he recognized my need for medical attention since his own son was hypersensitive to wasp stings. Thankfully my Mother made it to the clinic in time for me to get a shot that saved my life.

During the spring of my freshman year, a club that I was a part of through the school was having a swimming party at the local public pool. My eyes are very nearsighted, and I had taken off my glasses prior to heading for the pool. Because I wasn't familiar with the pool, I asked my girlfriend which end was the deep end (since I hardly knew how to swim). She thought that I really did know, so she kiddingly told me the wrong end. When I jumped in, I quickly sank to the bottom. It's almost undescribable the feelings of helplessness and feelings that you're going to die when you don't know how to swim and keep frantically trying to kick up from the bottom of the pool. Thank God that one of my classmates was able to recognize what was happening and was willing and able to take hold of me and to save my life.

Some time while in high school our youth leader from our church took a group of us to St. Louis for a Christian Endeavor convention. That weekend changed my life. Sometime during the banquet an elderly minister (his face is still so fresh in my mind) challenged us to come forward if we would commit ourselves to reading the Bible daily. Although I felt a strong urge to go forward, I didn't because no one else from my group went forward and I didn't want to stand out as different. But when I left that convention, I thought "that's not too much to ask," and I began reading the Bible daily--a habit I have continued through the years. I decided I'd read 20 chapters a week, which included daily reading from the Old Testament, Psalms, Proverbs, the gospels and the letters of the apostles. In the mornings I combined Bible reading with the boresome task of curling my hair (a habit I've continued through the years) and would also tote my Bible along to read when I'd climb trees, which I loved to do. I also began daily praying--in the mornings while I brushed my teeth (which sometimes would take much longer than what was probably necessary) and late at night before going to bed.

Also while in high school the elderly male minister, who had led our congregation every since I could remember, retired and was replaced with a spirit-filled woman minister (her first position since finishing seminary). Her influential messages helped me grow so much in the faith and to gain some understanding of the spiritual aspect of being a Christian. She also added a lot of vitality to our church by groups she brought in--like a group of very spirit-filled individuals from St. Louis who led a three-day revival and our church hosting a Christian Endeavor Convention with a performance by a gospel group of young college men from our hometown. I am so thankful for her influence.

The College Years.

In sending me off to college, it was important to my Mother to make sure I became acquainted with her aunt who lived in that town. I am so thankful for that - she would call me every Saturday to make sure I was going to church on Sunday, and she and my uncle would even stop by and pick me up and take me to church. Then she'd invite me over for lunch and a time of fellowshipping with them. They were both very strong in the faith and a great influence on me. And the minister of the Methodist church we attended was simply wonderful--a spirit-filled older lady, through whose influence I came to truly have a spiritual relationship with God. At that church I saw Jesus sitting in a pew during many of the services.

My freshman year in college I had just finished finals and was anxious to head home for Christmas break. Although it was snowing hard outside (perhaps harder than what would generally be expected in Missouri), I was confident I could make the 2 1/2 hour trip home safely since I had done my driver's ed. driving during winter (although I had limited experience driving in snow, and especially in heavily falling snow). I was barely out of town and had driven over one small hill and was approaching a second, when the car began sliding. With my inexperience, I lost control and the car went into a ditch. Immediately afterwards, a man driving a snow plow stopped and offered me a ride to a phone. He took me to the nearest business, which was a funeral home. The man inside was incredibly nice. He called a tow truck for me and went out of his way to be hospitable to me, offering me coffee, etc. He helped so much in calming me down, since I was very shaken. I was there for what seemed like quite awhile. Then the tow truck driver arrived and gave me a ride back to my car. I begged him to drive my car for me back into town, because I was so scared of wrecking. But he talked to me very calmly--gave me a pep talk and said that I could do this, just to take it slowly. I did somehow make it safely back to to the dorm. Amazingly my parents weren't too upset and made arrangements for me to ride home with others from our hometown who were going to college there also. The storm had subsided by the following morning, and our convoy of cars with shared rides navigated the still slippery roads to leave the college and head for our hometown. A Christmas to remember - that God sent someone right away after my car went into the ditch, that I was taken to where I was offered comfort, for the pep talk of the tow truck driver, and ultimately for a safe arrival home for Christmas.

Either shortly before or soon after Christmas break another freshman girl came to my dorm room and invited me to attend a worship service with her at Wesley House (a campus ministry supported at this university by the Methodist, Presbyterian and Episcopalian churches). I had been receiving correspondence from them, but wasn't sure where it was located and felt a bit leery going somewhere where I wouldn't know anyone. I am so thankful that God sent her to my door that day. I began attending Wesley House regularly thereafter and got involved with a better group of friends. I even joined their traveling singing group and became the pianist for the group beginning my sophomore year. Ultimately it was through the encouragement of some in this group that I began writing music. Soon after a friend suggested to me, "Why don't you write music for our group?", I awoke one morning with the words and music for a song running through my head. I could hardly wait till after my early morning class to run over to the music practice rooms to figure out the music on the piano and to get the music written out. Seems like the better songs I've written have been ones that have seemingly just been handed to me by God--words and music that just come into my head without any effort--a real blessing from God.

While either a freshman or sophomore in college, I was heading back to college from my parents home one afternoon. I was always cautious in an area of highway not all that far from my hometown where some large hills had been cut through in the making of the highway, an area that had at least two sharp curves in the road, an area where numerous people had died in traffic accidents. That afternoon as I came around one of the curves, there was a vehicle coming toward me in my lane--someone who was foolishly passing in a blind area. Being a relatively inexperienced driver, I didn't know how to respond. We were close to hitting, when at the last moment he veered over to the shoulder and the accident was averted. I was shaking so badly, realizing how close I had come to serious injury or death. Yet, God had spared me once more.

Another time while making the 2 1/2 hour trip back to college, I recall being very sleepy. I am relatively certain that I fell asleep at the wheel. I became aware of my surroundings again as I pulled into the dorm parking lot, and felt somewhat disoriented that I didn't recall the trip. Had perhaps an angel guiding me safely that day?

My sophomore year in college I was upset that a guy had stood me up for a date. Unfortunately I went out with some friends who were drinking. They had malt ducks in the car with them, and I drank one after another until I'd drank six of them over the course of one or two hours (I don't recall). When they dropped me off back at the dorm, I was so drunk that I could hardly walk. I hated being out of control like that, previously having been such a moderate drinker. By the grace of God I managed to make it up to my dorm room where I was so sick. And by the grace of God that I didn't die from toxicity of the alcohol that night (at that time only weighing 103 lbs. and 5'3"), but instead vowed to never become drunk again (a vow I have remained faithful to).

Twice while I was in college I had the opportunity to hear the contemporary Christian group "Truth" perform at the university, and I am so thankful for that. What a blessing! I still regret not taking advantage of the opportunity to audition with them while they were on campus. Even so, through the years I have continued to be particularly touched by one of their albums--the songs from "Wind of the Spirit" have helped to give me the courage to make it through some challenging times.

My junior year in college I moved off campus into a duplex. This more peaceful environment was conducive to beginning the daily habit of starting each day with a time of more focused prayer (a habit that has, however, been hampered in more recent years after the arrival of children).

I began my junior year burned out on college, having taken a full load of classes all summer long so as to qualify for financial aid to cover the cost. I was a nursing major and was beginning clinicals, working long hours three days a week in the local hospitals. I also was involved in a complicated friendship-turned-romantic relationship with a guy who had a girlfriend back home. Having realized that feelings had grown deeper between us, he decided to distance himself from me--and I was devastated. That coupled with the high demands of clinicals led me to a deep depression with feelings of failure. By October I was so deeply depressed that I had decided to kill myself. I was going to consume a full bottle of aspirin with a bottle of wine. As the two bottles sat on the table in front of me, I contemplated what I was about to do. I thought, "If I can just think of one reason not to...." Then the thought came to me--I believe placed there by God--about how my younger sister had always looked up to me and what effect would my killing myself have on her. God had given me the one reason not to do it, and so I didn't. The decision to live, I realized, meant I needed to make some changes in my life. I talked with my advisor in the nursing department and told her I wanted out of nursing. She talked me into completing one more clinical, and although obstetrics went better than pediatrics, I still left the nursing major at the end of the semester. I also decided that I needed to get my head on straight about the guy I'd been involved with--reasoning it through that he wasn't really available regardless of his acting so at times, etc. God had again spared my life - a growing experience with opportunities for more mature thinking and growth.

The summer between my junior and senior years I began dating a guy I'd been close friends with for 2 1/2 years prior. It seemed like the ideal situation - to date someone who'd been a close friend. But, when classes resumed in the fall, he chose to get back together with his old girlfriend and to dump me. I was so devastated the night he broke up with me. Immediately after he left, another close friend came to my door and offered me comfort--I believe he was sent from God. I could recognize in myself how deep the depression was, and I didn't want to again confront whether to kill myself or not. I decided I must not be alone - I probably made people sick of me because I was constantly seeking out the company of other people. I do recall, however, one evening when I was alone and sitting there drinking some wine when a deeply spirit-filled friend came to my door. It was so odd - he had NOTHING to say, but sat on the floor with his head bowed near his bent knees. His presence irritated me. Ultimately I took the wine to the kitchen and dumped it out and said to him, "see, it's gone - you can go now" and he left. I'm sure God sent Dane that night. The depression lessened over time, but it took about nine months. By the grace of God I made it through that time, with the help of those He sent to help me through it. (I quit drinking in '94 and haven't resumed drinking since.)

Sometime while I was still in college and my younger sister was in high school, I was home visiting my family one evening when my younger sister asked if I wanted to go riding around. I didn't have any other plans, so I decided to go along so that we'd have some time to visit. While driving around, we weren't far from the local hospital when an ambulance with its siren on and lights flashing approached us from behind. My sister quickly pulled off the road, without first assessing whether there was a shoulder (which wasn't obvious due to the tall grass and weeds). Instead of a shoulder, the land sloped steeply down, and we nearly rolled the car. Very soon after we managed to climb out of the car, a woman stopped to offer help. We were a bit shaken and not sure what best to do since we had no money with us and were concerned about our father's reaction (it was our parents' car). The woman told us she had a male friend who could maybe pull us out, so we got into her car. Soon thereafter we became aware of a strange smell in the car. She was smoking, and we soon realized the strange smell was from what she was smoking. Soon she told us she was smoking a joint and asked if we wanted some. Neither of us had ever done drugs, nor did we intend to now. Here we'd felt relieved that it had been a woman who'd stopped to offer help, and now we didn't feel safe at all and were concerned even more about what her friends might be like. I started praying for wisdom for how best to get out of this situation, and then I remembered that my older sister's previous boss lived in the town we were in (although I couldn't remember for sure where). Quickly I told this woman that I remembered someone I knew in town and tried to describe the area where he lived, that his home was connected to the radio station that he owned. Thankfully she was familiar with the location of the radio station and was willing to drive us there. We were incredibly relieved when we arrived at his house and were finally out of this woman's car. My sister's previous boss drove us out to where our parents' car was, and when he saw it, he became doubtful that his van would be able to pull it out. I continued to pray that it would, and thankfully it did, and the car didn't seem to sustain any noticeable damage. God was faithful in keeping us safe that evening. Through His guidance, we were lead out of potentially threatening situations.

Post College.

During the spring of my senior year of college, I came to recognize my need to line up employment for after college. Although my father was already trying to line up a job for me back home, due to poor family relations, I felt it would be best to not return to that area. I recall one day praying fervently about my job situation, and the next day I received a call from the university where I'd attended asking me to interview for a position I hadn't known was open. I interviewed for and got the position. It was a temporary position, but soon before time for it to end, my supervisor lined me up with a more permanent position on campus. God was looking out for me!

Soon after Thanksgiving that year, I decided to buy my first Christmas tree to make my house more festive for the season. My younger sister was now living in the same town and attending college, and I asked her to go with me. There was heavy snow fall at that time and because Missouri doesn't clear the roads all that well and my fear of winter driving due to previous problems doing so, my sister and I decided to walk to the closest retailer that would have artificial trees to sell. We were looking at several trees that were on display. I really wanted a 6' tree, but decided I could only afford to buy a 4' tree. Soon a younger thin man with dark hair, beard and mustache approached us and asked if he could help. I pointed at one of the 4' trees and indicated we wanted to buy it. He was very nice and got a box with a tree for us and had us go to the checkout aisle with him. He just kept smiling and asking if we were sure if we had enough decorations. I couldn't image why one box of garland, ornaments and lights wouldn't be enough for just a 4' tree. He seemed to have trouble getting the sale to go through on the cash register and kept fiddling around with it. Then Carol and I trekked back to my house and happily began setting up the tree. I can laugh now when I recall that we kept commenting on it being a "tall 4' tree." And there weren't enough decorations! So, we trekked back to the store and bought a couple more boxes of everything. The same man checked us out, and he still just kept smiling. It wasn't until some time after we came home again that I glanced at the box and read that it was a 6' tree! The man had generously given us a 6' tree for the price of a 4' tree. On several occasions after that day I would visit that store, hoping to see that man again. But I never did see him again. His generous heart still touches me to think about it today. I believe that God was working through him.

In the spring of '86 helping a girl friend put me in a potentially dangerous situation. She and I had become acquainted our freshman year of college through Wesley House and our sophomore year we became close friends after she served as my practice client for a counseling class I took as part of my nursing curriculum. Late in the summer before our senior year she became involved with a guy who came from a rough background. She was really taken in by him and left college to live with him in Arizona where he had work lined up for the winter. She kept in touch with infrequent letters, through which she revealed that she was pregnant and that he was physically abusing her. I felt badly for her, but didn't know what I could do. By the following summer they had returned to the town where I was living. They were now married and she had the baby. I recall her and the baby coming to visit me in September of ?85. She acted nervous and edgy while she was there. The next time I saw her in Spring of '86, she showed me the scar on her eyebrow from his beating her up when she came home after that last visit with me. She told me she was leaving him and asked if she and the baby could stay the night at my house, which I agreed to. The next morning his mother (they had been living near his parents) phoned me and asked if she was there, to which I replied I didn't know where she was (even though she was still at my house). His mother threatened me, cursed at me, called me profane names. I was scared, but I tried hard not to show it. I knew these were rough people--himself an abuser, he likely came from an abusive home. And I couldn't be certain what these people really would do. My friend didn't want to endanger me, so she left. And by the grace of God I never heard from those people again and was kept safe. It was almost a year later before I saw her again - I was so proud of her! She had really turned her life around. She did manage to divorce her abusive husband, although there were lots of challenges for quite awhile in regard to his visitation of their son, and she finished her degree that semester. I am grateful to God for keeping me safe while helping her to leave an abusive situation and also grateful to God that she was able to turn her life around.

Sometime during that first year after college I foolishly attended a party with a friend from work. Everyone was drinking heavily, and there was this attractive (although drunk) guy there who was taking interest in me. I hadn't dated anyone for awhile, so I was thrilled by the attention. But, it wasn't long before he led me away to a bedroom. I very naively didn't realize his intentions ahead of time and found myself in a potentially threatening situation. I kept saying "no," having no intention of having sex with him, but he wouldn't listen and he was stronger than I. Praise God one of the hosts of the party came into the room and said, "Not in my room, you don't. Take it out of here." I quickly exited the room, rejoined my friend and we left the party hurriedly, thanking God that I wasn't harmed.

Also during '86 I was in another potentially dangerous situation. The office where I worked was housed in the same building as the university switchboard. There was an AT&T repairman who periodically came to service the phone system. I had a good rapport with the switchboard manager (an older woman) and since she would visit with me at my desk, he would on occasion also. Being so naive, I didn't recognize that he had become interested in me--myself having no interest in him at all since he was significantly older than I. One night he showed up at the door to my home with a strong smell of alcohol on his breath. He immediately started trying to hold and kiss me, and I kept trying to pull away while saying "no." After awhile I started silently praying for God to help me, and soon thereafter the thought came into my mind to offer to play and sing for him the contemporary Christian songs I'd written and had previously spoken to him about. I offered to do so, and though he was at first reluctant, he ultimately agreed. As I sang and played he grew very quiet. Then he got up and just left. By the grace of God! But, that wasn't the end - to some level he stalked me for awhile - calling me (leading to my getting an unlisted number) and showing up at my house (I didn't open the door). It wasn't long before I relayed the story of what had happened to the switchboard manager, and she contacted AT&T and got him transferred elsewhere. Even so, many years later and living hundreds of miles away from there, our paths crossed again! This time I had begun a new job in a newly established office, and guess who came to set up the phone system. The lady training me noticed my reaction to seeing him, and quickly pulled me away to an office and asked, "Why did your face turn white when you saw that man?" I explained to her the past, and she contacted AT&T, saying they were never to send him out there again. Even so, for awhile I remained leery that at some point he might come by and I'd have to deal with him again. But, by the grace of God, I never saw him again.

Late in '86 I had to have foot surgery. Due to infection in the incision, I wound up being on crutches longer than anticipated. I could tell people were growing tired of helping me with things, and I was growing tired of asking for help. So, one day I decided to do the laundry myself--despite the washer being in the basement of the house and there being no dryer. I was getting along pretty well, actually, managing to balance myself with the crutches under my arms while using my hands to carry the basket of clothes. But, on one trip back upstairs with a basket full of heavy wet laundry, I started to lose my balance and to fall backwards. I cried out "Oh, Lord!" and immediately a force from behind me pushed me to the top of the steps (I was two or three steps down from the top). I stood there utterly amazed - knowing I had experienced a miracle. And it is because of this miracle (more so than any of the other wonderful things that God had done in my life) that I cannot deny His existence, even during times of frustration from seemingly unanswered prayers. Had I fallen down those steps, there is little doubt that I would have been injured (perhaps seriously) by the things I would have fallen into that were being stored there on the landing midway up the steps where they turned. God was ever so gracious to me that day.

In October '86, tired of so many short-term and more or less meaningless relationships and wanting to channel my desires according to God's will, I began praying for a husband. In January '87 I began dating the man who would later become my husband. He stood out as different from the others--finally someone I felt comfortable just being me with, rather than trying to mold into whatever the other person wanted me to be. We came from similar backgrounds, had fun together, and my family really liked him. In November of that year we became engaged and married in August of the following year. Our marriage was a blessed union for several years.

The Marriage Years

Sometimes God allows us to have experiences that teach us to lean on Him. In '89 I was promoted to a position with a high level of responsibility. Although I enjoyed the title, the level of authority, and the sense of achievement from being able to handle the busyness of the position, ultimately the stress level became detrimental to my health. My boss was a short-tempered man, failing miserably at his job, and (as I later found out) had been given an ultimatum by his boss. He would take full credit for responsibilities of his that I had handled for him, while at the same time blaming me for his failures when he would be confronted by his superiors. I had difficulty sleeping at night because work was constantly on my mind, even to the extent of dreaming about work nearly every night. In time I started having severe abdominal pain, resulting in several emergency care visits to the doctor and tests that revealed problems with my stomach requiring the taking of prescription meds. By spring of '91 my boss was informed that he would be fired in May, but so as to "save face," other employees would be led to believe that he was quitting. His boss met with me to give me inside information and sought for me to pledge my loyalty to remain on staff during the transition. However, the woman they had decided to promote to my boss's position was someone whom I previously had had personality conflicts with. During the immediate weeks prior to her assuming the position, she made no efforts to have good rapport with me. My stress level was VERY high, which resulted in my having intestinal problems daily. My doctor had a heart-to-heart talk with me and told me, "It's time to quit your job." Quitting my job would involve a leap of faith that I wasn't sure I was ready to take. Financially we were dependent on both my husband and I bringing in an income. Yet, for the sake of my health, I took that leap of faith and quit my job. I signed up with a temp employment service, but the woman working there wasn't confident I'd be able to find work since I limited where I was willing to drive (I'd never really settled into metropolitan living, and had a lot of anxiety to drive places where I wasn't familiar). Yet, the following week after I quit my job, the temp service did find me a long-term temp position that (although it paid less than I had been making) did manage to tide us over until I was able to find a more permanent full-time position in my field. God did provide for our financial needs when I took a leap of faith to leave a position that was detrimental to my health, and He provided a much lower stress position which was a more ideal situation during my pregnancy that soon followed (in discussing wanting to have a baby with my doctor, he had told me I would need to be off the stomach meds to do so; I haven't had to be on prescription stomach meds since quitting that job).

Despite the many times God has blessed me in my life, God does not promise us an easy life. A case in point is the birth of our oldest daughter. The last two weeks of the pregnancy I was in almost unbearable pain in my back and hips--a pregnancy that went five days overdue with my small-boned, short-waisted body trying to carry a nine pound baby. The day she was born (June of '92), I awoke in the 2 o'clock hour because my water had broke. Unfortunately she had contaminated the amniotic fluid by having had a bowel movement. At the hospital after several hours of relatively non-productive labor, the decision was made to give me Pitocin intravenously to assist the process. The Pitocin increased the intensity of the contractions so much that I could hardly bear the pain. Ultimately they gave me an epidural; but, the epidural hampered the progress of the labor more. By 8:30 that evening I had developed a fever, indicative that infection had set in due to the contaminated amniotic fluid. Also, the baby's heart was no longer bouncing back as well following the contractions. Urgently a c-section was performed. Our daughter had acquired a bacterial infection in-utero, which resulted in her staying in the hospital for several days to receive antibiotics intravenously. In the process of giving me the epidural, the anesthesiologist had nicked my spinal cord, resulted in a spinal fluid leak that caused almost unbearable tension in my shoulders and neck. After three days, they finally injected a "blood patch" into my spine, which stopped the spinal fluid leak and by the grace of God I was finally okay. Even amidst the trauma of her birth, there were blessings--because our daughter was okay despite the infection she'd acquired, when I have heard that some babies wind up with learning disabilities or retardation as a result of it, and also that I was okay, when I have heard of some who've had their spinal cords nicked by epidurals winding up with some level of paralysis. Indeed, God does not promise us an easy life, but He does promise not to give us more than we are able to bear and to be with us through the tough times of our lives--even when sometimes we fail to recognize His presence. (Our second daughter, by the way, was taken by planned c-section two weeks before her due date with no complications.)

In the fall of '92 my husband changed careers to begin working in retail management. Following his training, in the spring of '93 we knew we would likely be relocating. I kept praying about this situation, because I especially did not want to leave Missouri or to be located very far from my close family. Late in the spring my husband was told we were being relocated to Minnesota. I recall feeling disappointed with God--why hadn't He answered my prayers the way I had asked? Yet, what we fail to realize so many times, is that God sees a much bigger picture than we do--He sees far into the future and can look at future outcomes of which we with our limited vision simply cannot see. Soon after moving to Minnesota, it felt like an adventure--an opportunity to explore unchartered waters, so to speak. And over time I came to realize that having greater distance from my immediate family (which resulted in fewer direct interactions) actually had a positive effect due to their prior negative influence on me.

Early in '93 a student at the nursing school where I worked was coughing terribly and obviously very sick, yet she still kept coming to classes. She was an older woman, and when I asked if she'd seen a doctor, she said she couldn't afford to go. It was my feeling that she really needed to see a doctor and I felt compelled to help; yet, with a new baby we were financially strapped as well. One of my responsibilities was caring for the petty cash fund that was used to maintain the copier. It always had much more money than was actually needed to maintain the copier, so I thought that maybe it would be all right to borrow money to anonymously give to her and then repay the fund later. But, by late spring my husband was informed that he was being transferred from Missouri to Minnesota and we still were too short on cash for me to repay the fund. I felt terribly about it, but I didn't know what else to do besides to pray for the cash. On my last day of work I received a card from one of the nursing faculty - and inside was a $50 bill! I quickly repaid the petty cash fund and thanked God for providing the money to do so. I truly believe God worked through her to provide the money--especially for it to have been the exact amount that I needed to repay the fund.

Although not frequent, on several occasions through the years (the first I recall being during the fall of '94) I have awakened during the night and have become aware of a brightness in the room and sense the presence of God. How wonderful for God to make His presence known to me in this way. Indeed God is always present, although many times we are not aware of it--whether due to choice or inattentiveness.

Some time in '96 while brainstorming ideas of intellectually stimulating things I could do while a stay-at-home mom, I thought about how writing had been one of my areas of strength from the past. I uplifted the idea in prayer, and not long thereafter in a vision Jesus said to me, "Do you know what's wrong with today's kids?--inadequate love, inadequate discipline and inadequate moral teaching." I pondered what he'd said, and then it occurred to me that I could write an article about that. I began researching in my Bible to find relevant verses to support what he'd said, and from it the article "Children's Needs, Societal Consequences" was born (the link is in the MENU near the end of this web site).

In August of '98 my 11-year-old house cat was diagnosed with bone cancer in his jaw. I deeply loved him--he was like a child to me. I struggled in my faith during that time, especially as I watched his face increasingly become deformed and as his level of pain significantly increased. I knew that God knew how much that cat meant to me and I struggled with why He would make me watch someone I loved suffer so much. I prayed for a miracle, but none came. By mid-November I knew that it would be best to end his suffering by having him put to sleep. It was a heart-wrenching decision for me to make. I didn't want him to no longer be a part of my life, and I didn't like having to make a life or death decision for another living being (not wishing to hold anyone's life in my hands was one of the reasons why I'd decided to leave nursing). I was very deeply depressed for at least four months. Two days after his death, while I was crying, I heard a voice say, "Who is to say that the spirit of animals goes one way and the spirit of man another?" I thought I'd read that somewhere at some time in the Bible, so I got out my Bible and searched for the verse. It seemed like something Solomon had written, so I focused on Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. Finally I found it - Ecclesiastes 3:19-21. What a wonderful God to show that He cared that I was hurting by offering comforting words through the Spirit. I spent many hours looking through pictures I had of Alex. He was such a funny cat, the pictures made me smile. I started thinking of captions for the pictures, and then my creativity kicked in and I started thinking of stories. I had a new excitement as I began writing out stories to go with the pictures, ultimately publishing and selling the books--a nice tribute to one who had added so much to my life, a new beginning in a new direction that likely wouldn't have happened had Alex not died. I believe that the inspiration for the books was placed in my thoughts by God, because I don't believe I could have written them by myself because my grief was too great. God has a wonderful way of turning negatives into positives!

In the spring of '99, the wife of an older man from our church passed away. The two of them had been very close, and her death caused a great void in his life. Two days after she passed away, I was at home and as I entered my kitchen, I saw a vision of her face. She said to me, "Thanks for taking care of Lee," and then she disappeared. To me it was a commission, perhaps a bit of a plea for me to care for him, which I have tried to continue to do since that time.

During the fall of '99 my life had become very challenging due to problems in my marriage and other significant relationships, and I was struggling a bit in my faith. In December while driving my car, I pulled off the highway a bit abruptly to scold my kids for fighting. When I went to pull back onto the road, the car wouldn't steer right. We were some distance from any houses, and my coat wasn't adequate to combat the cold brisk wind. Soon after I was outside of my car trying to figure out the problem, a van pulled up alongside us. It was some members from our church, and they offered us a ride home. God was so gracious that we didn't have to walk in the cold brisk wind and by His sending within such a short time people whom we knew to bring us home. Later the mechanic told my husband how lucky I was that I was sitting alongside the road when the apparently weak steering part broke, that I would more than likely have been involved in a serious accident had it broken while driving along. Even in the midst of turmoil in our lives, God is there--watching over us, ready to help. What a blessed God!

One day last year ('99) while I was at home and my youngest daughter had left with her father, I suddenly had a strong sense of uneasiness regarding her. I sensed that she was in some way in danger. I immediately prayed for God to send His angels to surround her and to protect her and to keep her safe. Soon thereafter my husband came home and told me that she had carelessly started to cross the street in front of a car. Praise God for keeping her safe!

Last year ('99) continued to be a very trying year for me, but God kept reminding me of His presence. While at a wedding in December of '99, there had been some tiny red and clear hearts spread on the tables at the reception. My daughters had each brought home a collection of them that they stored in small containers in their rooms. It's interesting how God has used those hearts to remind us of His love. On several occasions last year the girls and I would find hearts here and there and just about everywhere--seemingly placed there by God. We were especially surprised one day when we walked into the entrance of the local fitness center, and there they were!--three tiny hearts laying there on the floor. We also kept finding pennies on several occasions here and there and just about everywhere. I believe that God was watching over us and wanted to remind us of His love, His presence and His provision.

One night last year ('00) I experienced something I had never before or since then experienced--after having had a very depressing day, I awoke during the night and was being hugged by a being that resembled a human form yet was ghostlike and consisted only of light. I assumed that it must have been an angel. What a caring God to have sent an angel to remind me of His love that night.

By late in 2000 on occasion my husband would tell me that he feels like Satan is trying to get ahold of him and talks about feeling like Satan is in bed with him and feeling like he's hot and that Satan is inside of him. No one in my life has ever told me about experiences they've had with Satan before, and I am very upset about him having these experiences. He would tell me things like "I just feel so hot, and I feel like Satan is in bed with me" and "I feel so hot, I feel like Satan is inside of me." I am extremely alarmed by such talk.

In December, 2000, after seven years of progressively intensifying marital problems, my husband had a sexual affair. This caused me a great deal of anger and depression, and old put-downs from the past resurfaced with a flood of hurtful memories. I have grappled with such a wide array of feelings since that time. I continue to search for the "right" decisions to make in this situation, not only what is best for me, but especially what is best for my two young daughters. Although he is remorseful for his actions and since that time has had renewed commitment to our marriage, my heart is no longer in the marriage. I have struggled spiritually off and on since that time. I have prayed so fervently for God to open doors to show me where to go from here, and have been frustrated that His answers don't seem to come. I have always relied heavily on God to direct my life--which is the way I believe it should be anyway. Yet, where are God's answers?

In July of 2001 my much beloved Grandma passed away. She was strong in the faith and a great influence on me. Spending time with Grandma was at times such a contrast to time spent at home--she was so patient and kind--never once do I recall my Grandma ever losing her temper with anyone. She was very humble and lived an exemplary Christian life. When Grandma died, I felt a great sense of loss--because she had been one of the few people in my life that loved me unconditionally. Yet, grieving didn't come easy for me--I knew she was in heaven and much happier than she could possibly be here on earth, so it didn't seem right to grieve for her. So instead I grew deeply depressed. Then early one Sunday morning in September Grandma appeared to me in a dream. I was dreaming, like so many nights since her death, of being in her home--and it being a sad, lonely place because I couldn't find her there. And then in the dream she descended through the air and came to me, while I was in one of her rooms alone, and she just kept hugging me while making funny faces and making every effort to make me laugh. I asked her if she was going to talk with the others, because in the dream other family members were in the house in other rooms, but she told me, "I was told I could only talk with you." She asked how I'd been getting along, and shortly thereafter she began slowly ascending and gradually disappearing, all the while continuing to make funny faces at me as she waved. How kind for God to allow her to appear to me in a dream. It made a big difference in my acceptance of her death.

Late in the summer 2001 my husband read my "Faith Stories" article on the web, and afterwards he went to the bedroom and was in there for a long time. I was upstairs and wondered why he hadn't commented to me about it afterwards. So finally I went down, and he told me he felt hot and like Satan was inside of him.

I think God's expectations of me are higher than they used to be, and I guess that's as it should be. It is a struggle to not see prayers as readily answered as they had been in the past. God has blessed me with so many talents, but ones in fields that are hard to break into--writing, music, art. But I continue to pray, and to struggle with the "if only"'s. Yet, there are those moments of unexplainable joy--signs that the Spirit is still at work in me. And God has continued to express His love when I pray during saddened times, by having a friend send a comforting email that day or a phone call or my pastor's perseverance in his efforts to help me to work through the hurts (despite my resistance for him to help).

On November 4, 2002, my husband moved out. Life is now filled with a whole new set of challenges and stresses; yet, I believe that God has some greater plan for all that has and is happening and that some day in the future I will be able to see the "bigger" plan more clearly.

I still can sense His presence at times--especially late at night--and there are those moments of peace and joy. Despite the trials and challenges in our lives, I have faith that in His time all things really will "work for the good of those who are called according to His purposes." I cling to the words of a hymn: "O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come...." and this hymn's words as well: "...All I have needed Thy hand hath provided, Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me."

Last night (11/15/03) I turned to the TBN channel, and Charles Stanley was giving a message. He was talking something about tough times in our lives and whether we'd choose to just give up or not. I could relate to what I heard, so I kept listening. After all this time of questioning why a loving God could let so much hurt come into my life the past few years, at last - someone who explained it in a way that brought peace to my soul. I invite you to listen and watch this message on-line--perhaps it will speak to your soul as well. Just click on the link below, and then click on the DIAL-UP/56K button to download the video to your computer where you can view it using RealPlayer:

Life After Divorce.

My marriage officially ended February 5, 2004, after a 15-month separation. I honestly have never been through anything as emotionally challenging as my divorce, especially due to the process of the custody battle. Despite all I have been put through and continue to go through emotionally, I still believe that God has some higher purpose for this. Custody of my two daughters, now ages 9 and 12, was taken away from me. These decisions were not based on my abilities as a mom or my treatment of my children; rather, these decisions were based on my ex-husband's ability to manipulate all the "right" people. Custody is currently in the appeals process, to be heard in the Appeals Court September 23, 2004. My pain currently is more for my children and the emotional pain they have shared with me. My daughters and I have always been very closely bonded, my having stayed home with them for 10 years.

Last night (09/11/04) I heard Charles Stanley give a sermon on T.V. about how satan will attack those trying to further the kingdom of God. Indeed, this is one of the things that happened to me. Satan has attacked me on many fronts sense I shared my "Faith Stories" via the web. One way I was attacked was in court during the custody battle, first by the psychological examiner (he read my "Faith Stories" web site per his own initiative and labeled me as "delusional"), then by opposing counsel during the divorce trial in which she questioned me as to whether I've ever seen an angel (can I deny my faith and put custody of my children before God?), and finally by the judge in her judgement and decree in which she concurred with opposing counsel and the psychological evaluator that my having admitted to seeing an angel makes me delusional (nevermind the fact that I had three health care professionals testify that I am NOT delusional in their opinions). There is at times a price to pay for trying to further the kingdom of God. As Charles Stanley stated, satan is trying hard to prevent people from being saved. Over and over again I was in disbelief at various things that happened during the custody battle. It was blatantly clear to me that a spiritual battle was at work. I especially believe this is true because of the satan encounters my ex-husband shared with me for a couple years before he moved out.

I cannot tell you that life is easy for me or that I feel blessed by God. In fact, there have been times when I have doubted that God cares or even listens to my prayers. Yet, still at times I will waken during the night, aware of the presence of the Spirit by the "light." One night this summer, I awakened and saw what was very clearly an angel. There is peace and comfort and love in the light, in the presence of the Spirit and through God's angels.

Regardless of satan's tactics to try to destroy me, I must ever proclaim the message of Christ. God has revealed Himself to me in very special ways - God is REAL.

Somehow, some way, life is going to get better. And some day God's purposes for all these things will be revealed to me. I still believe that all things work for our ultimate good.

This year (2005) has been a real eye-opener for me as a Christian, especially in relation to "church" and the role it should play in Christians' lives. This year I saw wrath in the church I've been a part of the past eight years - I saw cold-hearted rejection based on minute information without knowledge of relevant facts. I saw reputations destroyed within the church and Christians asked to leave the church. I saw Christians turning against each other and choosing sides, to the point of almost becoming a popularity contest. And repeatedly I knew that this is not what God has called any church to be, and that satan was rejoicing as all the destruction was unfolding within that congregation. I became quite ashamed of this church and its members and its actions. And I became disillusioned with "church" and pastors in general. I sought out scriptures seeking answers of what God has called His church to be and what God has called His pastors to be. And over and over again were scriptures regarding unity and harmony being God's will for His church and for His pastors to have reputations that are above reproach. I have long believed that the existence of denominations is likely contrary to the will of God, based on my studies of the scriptures. And yet, it is important to attend a church whose values and beliefs are congruent with your own. I cannot in good conscience continue to be a part of the congregation I've been a part of the past eight years. Rather, I find myself seeking God's will, prayerfully seeking His wisdom regarding where He would have me go to church at this time. I wish that I could believe that what I experienced this year in that church was an isolated event. But unfortunately I believe it isn't. Logically speaking, it isn't satan's will for any church to continue in God's will. And satan will target anyone that he believes is furthering God's Kingdom. For this reason, it is ever so important for each of us to read, study, and know well the scriptures so that when we see a church or Christians behaving in ways that are contrary to scripture, that we can readily recognize this as being apart from the will of God and to separate ourselves from those who allow themselves to be pawns of satan. Drawing from familiarity with scripture, be ever watchful for wolves disguised in sheepskins, even among those calling themselves "pastors." We each have a "race" to run - will we finish the race and enter God's Kingdom, or will we fall short finishing the race by allowing ourselves to be distracted by the world and satan's tactics? May God guide you in your Christian interactions and grant you His wisdom where to fellowship together with Christians who truly are following His ways.

God is ever-present, ever-caring, and loves us even when we stray away. And I know that God loves you and wants to fellowship with you. May you experience His continual blessings in your life and grow in your faith through daily praying and studying the Bible and through fellowshipping with other believers. God Bless!

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