God’s Disciple Messenger Called to Carry the Reconciliation Message

Bits and Pieces…

God has given his messages to me in bits and pieces.  He has also let me know in bits and pieces why I was the one chosen to carry the greatest love story ever retold.  It is in bits and pieces that you have been told about me to this point.  More bits and pieces will be added through this blog entry, and, just as I have in the past with long entries, I am revealing that this will be another long, atypical entry. This is like putting a puzzle together piece by piece, each in its own place, to form a recognizable picture.  When you reach completion, there is an ‘aha moment’ of understanding just what the puzzle maker had in mind from the beginning.  God is a master puzzle maker.  He knows what picture he wants completed for each of his children.  He crafts each puzzle piece with loving preciseness, so that, when being put together according to God’s directions, each piece fits perfectly in its place as planned by the Master.  Unlike a regular puzzle, when pieces are soiled, damaged, or lost, the whole puzzle is ruined, when these puzzle pieces are soiled, damaged, or lost, God can find the lost and repair the damaged or soiled.  The puzzle will be just as the Creator planned if the intended one has lived according to God’s ways and sought and received forgiveness for the times God’s ways were not followed.  Upon accepted earthly completion, it will receive its promised place in God’s Heavenly Puzzle. 

Why more about the messenger…

The second assignment given me – you will find about my first assignment below, the letter to a friend, under ‘heard and followed directions’ – after I accepted the call in 2014 was to write about myself.  I questioned God, “I thought you wanted me to write about reconciliation, but now you say to write about myself.  I’m confused.”  I did not receive an answer right away, so I started writing, beginning with my Grandpa’s predicting my birth and gender several years before I was born.  (More below under ‘A gentle reminder’)  For days I wrote recalling things that had to have been hidden in the depths of my brain.  I enjoyed this assignment immensely.  It came as a surprise, as well as a little disappointment, to me when, just after I had written how my husband and I had made a life decision and moved to Missouri, God said I had written enough. 

He then questioned, “What did you learn?”  I didn’t have much to offer in response, because I did not know at the time that I would be using what I had remembered about my early life in writing the book and now the blog.  It did not matter that I did not know, God knew and would guide me.  He also knew that I would realize things learned by the write-about-your-life assignment as I went along. (It was early 2015 when I received and completed the assignment to write about myself.  I have this saved for verification if needed.)

The third and fourth assignments followed quickly.  God asked me to write all the sayings I could remember, starting with Mother’s pretty is as pretty does lesson.  (Explained below in ‘rejected by blackballing’)  After that came the task of writing down all the songs I could remember.  I had fun with these two tasks, just as I had with writing my life’s story. In all my assignments, I have made additions along the way.  For example, I have added songs such as Here Am I, Lord and Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.  Just this morning, 2-7-24, the song title ‘All the Way My Savior Leads Me’ — plus the addition of ‘ what have I to ask but naught, and the thought that through life he has guided me –popped into my head and I had the urge to add it to the list. (I have these lists for verification.)

It was not long before I realized why God had given me these assignments.  This was part of my preparation for the job ahead as well as providing references for future writings, including this blog entry which came about because God asked me to write more about the messenger. He says by knowing more about me, you will have a better understanding of my journey under the guidance of a Heavenly Team.  Also, knowing more about me and my strengths and, even more importantly, my weaknesses, will make me more believable.  My being believable is a key to your believing the truth of God’s messages.  It is acceptance of these truths that will help lead you out of the darkness into the Light.

Be refreshed by a review… 

It would be helpful to reread ‘About the Disciple Messenger’ found on the ‘About the Team Leader’ page.  Also helpful would be the rereading of the blog entry:  Called to the Ministry of Reconciliation.  Through that page and on the entry, you will be refreshed on my background, my concerns that led me to turn to God for help, on what reconciliation means, and why reconciliation is the miracle answer to solving our many problems.  Hopefully, too, you will have the desire to learn more about this modern-day messenger called by God.  Note:  I am simply a disciple messenger who has followed God’s directions and recorded his messages — filling in the blanks where needed.  I will accept no honors, recognition, credit, nor money.  My name will not appear as author of the book, I will never autograph it, nor will I take credit for the blog.  All honor, all glory, all recognition goes to God.  This is God’s work.  All is God given, God inspired. 

All the way, God was, is, and will forever be the leader…

Ihave found through this journey that God was the leader that most, but not all, of my ‘influencers’ followed.  The ones who followed God’s lead, influenced me in positive ways.  The ones who were not following God’s lead caused my concerns.  It was my concerns that led me to seek God’s help. 

Start at the very beginning, a very good place to start…

God knows The Sound of Music is one of my favorite movies. He used words from one of its songs — ‘Start at the very beginning, a very good place to start’ – to help give me a jump start.

God wanted a volunteer… 

Before I had agreed to answer God’s call, I asked, “Why me?”  I was told the first reason why I was chosen:  “Because you asked.”  After thinking about it, I realized on that November 2014 night when I had finished my concerns, I added, “Is there anything I can do to help?”  God took that as volunteering. He knew I wanted to help.   Over the next several nights, God told me I had just the right skills and knowledge – not too much, not too little, but just right.  It was made known to me that it mattered not if I had errors in spelling, punctuation, and grammar because the important thing was that I would record and report the messages given me and would use easy-to-understand language.  The errors could be corrected later.  It was not a concern that I could not talk, because he said I was not asked to talk, I was asked to write.  He also said I was a good listener, good at taking thoughts and filling in the blanks, good at taking clues and using them to solve problems, and, most importantly, I had love in my heart for all people.  With his promise to help me, I started my journey to answer his call…”Write a book about reconciliation.”

God wanted a listener, a believer, and a responder…

God wanted someone who had heard his voice previously and had followed his directions.   It is important I relate a few of these times to show you that I listened to the Leader, and, because I listened, I was guided in a life choice, saved from harm, and was helped with situations that I did not know how to handle. In two of the situations, I asked for help and God answered.  In another, God spoke to me when I was unknowingly in danger, and I followed his directions. 

The first happened the summer before my junior year in high school.  From the time I was very young, I knew what I wanted to do for my life’s work, but during a summer church camp where a professor from the university I wanted to attend was a counselor, I considered a different path.  He had instilled in me and others a desire to go into the Christian service field. One evening after devotions, I sought out a quiet place to pray.  During a long prayer session, I heard that I should stay with my original plans for a major. It was that work for which I had the greatest passion, was most prepared, and had the most abilities and skills.  I was also told that I would be doing work to help others through my chosen field and, again, after I retired and was older.  I listened and worked in my chosen field for 35 years.  It is now that I am older that I am doing the work I have been called to do.  In both fields of endeavor, I felt that I was being of service to others.  Most of all, I knew I was doing exactly what God wanted me to do and I was doing the work when God wanted. (God needed a younger person with a lot of energy for my first job.  He needed an older woman who had the time needed to fulfill the second task.  Both jobs required a loving heart and a good memory.)   Full disclosure:  I admit that, through my life, too often I have done things ‘my way’ instead of God’s way and in man’s time, not God’s time.  I’m grateful that I have had, and took advantage of, the opportunities to ask forgiveness for these times before my last earthly breath had been taken. 

The next time I heard God was shortly after I had started working.  My fiancé — whom I had met in college — and I met at his parents’ home many of our weekends.  We each had about an hour and a half drive to their home – his from west to east and mine from southwest to northeast.  It was winter and got dark early.   I had been a little later than usual getting started.  My drive was on an interstate that didn’t have much traffic.  I was driving faster than usual trying to get as much daylight driving in as possible.  I had just come upon and passed four cars when I unexpectedly heard a voice – though I was alone in the car – giving precise directions, “Slow down, pull over to the far right, and stop.”  I followed those unexpected directions.  It surprised me to find that the drivers of the four cars I had passed, slowed down, pulled over, and stopped behind me.  We had all just pulled over when a car traveling south came rolling over and over through the median, in front of us, finally coming to rest upright in a field on our side of the road.  The occupants from the cars behind me jumped out of their vehicles and rushed to see if they could help the ones in the wrecked car.  Some of the women stayed back and came to check on me.  They asked why I had slowed down and pulled off to the side so suddenly.  They said they followed my lead because they thought I needed help – all mentioned that they noticed I was a young woman, traveling alone and driving fast, before suddenly slowing, pulling over, and stopping.  I admit to being fearful of telling them about hearing a voice – which I credited as God’s voice — giving me the instructions that no doubt saved me and all the others from harm.  I didn’t expect them to believe me when, in fact, I was still trying to sort it out.  I simply said that I had this strong urge to slow down and pull over.  All of us admitted we were glad I had that urge.  Miraculously, the lone occupant in the vehicle that rolled over and over in front of us was shaken, but okay.  The others sent me on my way and asked me to report the accident and location as soon as I reached a place from which to call – no cell phones on hand in those days.  

Through the years when I have told this story – mainly in Sunday School – I felt the doubt others had when I said that God spoke, I listened, and lives were saved.  I am wondering if ones reading the blog or the book — in which God’s messages that are meant to save lives are recorded – will allow themselves to believe these truths. 

During and after my calling in 2014, I have heard and responded to God’s voice many times.  In fact, he has compared me to his guiding of Moses. (NOTE: To be perfectly clear, I did not in any way say that I was equal to Moses.  I did not say that I was a present-day Moses, as some are claiming to be in 2024. I simply said that God told me that I needed much guidance just as Moses needed much guidance.)    We both needed a lot of help and were helped.  One of those needing-help-and-getting-it times occurred in late 2014 into early 2015 — shortly after I had received my call.  This example shows that God knows things that are going to happen before they happen. I had not learned God’s ways and time just yet.  You might say I was a rookie messenger, and you would be accurate.

After accepting the call in November 2014, I thought I would be immediately starting to write the book even though I had not the slightest inkling how to begin.  God knew I needed to be prepared for the job.  He started the preparation process by giving me assignments. The following is my first assignment – given in early December 2014.  You will find that I was unsure of myself, but God knew of my lack of self-confidence and stepped in to help where help was needed.

I was surprised when God asked me to write a letter to a church friend.  What he asked me to write seemed to be saying that this friend was going to die soon.  There were instructions given on how he should prepare his heart – “Pull every thread of hate from your heart and replace them with love,” was one example.  I knew him to be sick, but I certainly did not think he was near death. I feared he and his wife would think me judgmental in presuming he had hate in his heart that needed to be replaced with love. In trying to follow God’s instructions as best I could, I wrote the letter as God had asked.  I reread it and reread it, but I could not make myself put the letter in the mail.  My husband and I were going to be traveling to spend Christmas with one of our children.  I took the letter with me thinking we might stop and mail it along the way.   We returned home a few days after Christmas with the letter still in hand.

A phone call was placed as soon as we were settled to see how the friend was feeling.  I found he was not doing as well as he had been when I last checked. His wife confided in me that she was very concerned and felt Hospice would be called in soon.  On hearing her concern, I was filled with fear and dread.  I was afraid I had failed in my first assignment by not getting the letter on its way in time for him to read it.  Questions flooded my mind:  Should I still send it?  Had I misunderstood what I should write?  I went in prayer to the only one who had the answers to my questions.  I asked all my questions.  Then I added, “I am beginning to have doubts about myself and wonder if I have misunderstood what you would have me do.  Please give me a signal that will let me know whether you still want me to send the letter.”  The answer came quickly and in an unusual way, “I love to hear your Mother sing.  I can hear her singing now.”  He then named the song that she was singing – it was about having peace.  Having given me the assurance needed, God added to what I had already written in the letter.  These were messages of comfort.  Some of these additions were things I had no idea what was meant by them.  Examples:  “You have taken good care of ______ (he called the wife by name).  She will be all right.  You have provided for your family.  They know of your love for them.  You are not alone.  I am with you.”   Finally, he added, “Ask them to tell no one about this letter.”  

I quickly made the additions and got the letter on its way.  The friend passed away a little more than a week later.   It wasn’t until a week or so after the funeral that the wife, who also was a close church friend, told me that the letter had arrived in time to be read and discussed with her husband.  She said it gave him and her a lot of comfort.  She also shared that her husband had gotten out of his death bed to buy a house in town near a daughter, so that she would feel safe. That explained to me what God meant when he asked me to write, “You have taken good care of ______.”  I learned about how, when, and what he had done to take care of his wife after the fact.  In addition to his wife, he had prepared the groundwork meticulously and well to take care of his family.  God knew what would happen before it happened.

Note:  The song about peace that was named, I hadn’t heard or thought about in years.  I vaguely remembered my Mother singing it when I was young.  As soon as I had spare time, I looked through a box of items that I had removed from her piano bench after Mother died in 2002.  We had put the box away for safe keeping and had never looked through it in all the passing years.  I was surprised to find that Mother had the words of that very song written on several cards found in the box.  Obviously, she had never wanted to forget the words.  And, recalling what God told me, I knew that she never did forget them.   

An addition:  Early this morning, 2-23-24, I was in prayer about how I was to finish up on this blog addition so that I could get it published.  I had been writing, reading, rewriting, rereading, making corrections and additions on this one entry for almost 2 months and still knew it was not ready, not as God wanted it to be.  I had no doubt that God would answer me, I just didn’t know when or how.  The answer came quickly and, as usual, in an unexpected way. He had more to add to What Church Is Supposed to Be and had another assignment for me.  I was asked to give a message to let a long-time friend who is struggling with a health issue know that she is not alone. In addition to many friends, God, her Father in Heaven, is with her.  I knew what I had been told and knew I would do as directed with no arguments.  The problem was that I didn’t know how to accomplish my assignment.  I had not been directed to write a letter.  There was no mention of pulling threads of hate from her heart, simply the words of comfort:  Tell her, she is not alone for she has many friends and, even more importantly,  I am with her.

I thought of this friend to whom I was connected in so many ways – as a co-worker, a neighbor, a church member where we worked together in compassionate ways,  on shared concerns.  We had laughed and cried together.  She was so strong, not afraid to tackle hard tasks, not giving in to the health issues without a valorous fight. She was beautiful on the inside as well as the outside. I could understand why God had made no mention of pulling threads of hate from her heart.  Her heart was filled with love.

I was urged to go to this entry – God’s Disciple Messenger Called to Carry the Reconciliation Message –and start reading from the very beginning.  When I came to the part about writing to a friend in God wanted a listener, a believer, and a responder, it came to me that I was to make ‘an addition’ about my newest assignment.  God said this would show that I have continued to listen, believe, and respond.  In addition, when I send this entry through via text or email for my friend to read, it will let her know that she should have no fear for God is with her.  Also, she has many friends who are ready and willing to help her in whatever ways she needs help.  They are not alone; God is with them also.  He will provide his children with strength to face whatever is ahead.  God’s love is amazing, everlasting, unfailing. 

I had just finished recording the above addition, when I heard, “If they listen carefully, they will hear me sing, ‘Be not dismayed whate’er betide, I will take care of you…”  I was not surprised at hearing this.  I have heard the song being sung to me with the word God being replaced by I and his replaced by my – all meant to leave no room for doubt about the one singing.  I have heard God promise, through song, to take care of me every day, in every way.  I knew he meant it.  So, I say to my friend, to her friends, to all who need comfort, “Patiently listen, and, when you hear these words, be comforted.”

God wanted someone who would continue listening to him and continue following his directions…

The next happenings started in 2015, continued into 2016 , on through 2019, and similar happenings are continuing and getting darker to this day.   My husband and I were with a group that gathered about once a week for conversation.  We had been noticing that many in the group had started sharing books and articles by very conservative personalities.  Several had been talking about only listening and watching conservative and Christian radio and TV.  A couple of them had stated that they used to be among the moral majority, but now they felt they were among the moral minority and their religious freedoms were being taken away.  During the conversation that day about things happening in the world that were concerning us, one of the men said, as a matter of fact, that anyone who voted for Obama for president is not a Christian.  A few of us looked shocked at what he had just said. Most, however, were nodding in agreement.  My husband could not let such a statement stand without a response.

After the group broke up, the one who had made the original statement said he did not mean for us to take his statement personally, just in general, those voting for Obama, or any Democrat for that matter, could not possibly be a Christian. It was hard to believe that he had not meant it personally because he had at another recent gathering stated that he was at a boot stop where collections were being made for a worthy cause.  He had said, “If that black man who was approaching had laid a hand on my car, I would have pulled out the gun I always carry for protection and shot him.  Lucky for him, the light turned green, and I drove away.”  My thoughts:  It was good that the light turned green.  That saved you from doing something that would have changed your life for the worse.

Later that afternoon, the phone rang.  It was another member of the group who asked for both my husband and me to be on the line.  This person said the call was to let us know that the original statement that a person who voted for Obama could not be Christian was true. She added that Obama wanted babies ripped from their mother’s womb and that Democrats and ones who voted for Obama wanted that, too. I told the person calling that she did not know what is in the heart and she should be careful about making judgment calls.  She said, “I am right.  I know I am right because I am a Conservative and Conservative views are right.”  Trying to keep calm and not allowing the conversation to escalate to the point that something would be said to damage our relationship further, we told her that we thought we better end the conversation for now. 

Not knowing what to do, we decided that we should go to the ones who were the elders in the group and the ones who held us together to tell them we wouldn’t be attending group meetings for a while.  We told them the reason and told them of the additional call from another group member to inform us of who were and who were not Christian.  They told us they knew all about the phone call, because that person had told them she called us, that we understood and were okay, therefore, there was no need to not attend.  We told them that we were not okay and did not understand why she would think we were.  It was then that the couple started telling us their views about ‘Japs’, ‘Germans’, and ‘gays’.  Nothing was mentioned about those with skin color other than white, but we shouldn’t have been surprised at their reaction, for we were greeted with a sign on their door that read ‘Show us your birth certificate!’  After explaining that we were not welcomed, therefore, we would not be comfortable gathering with the group, anytime soon, we left feeling sad for them and all who held such hate for others – especially while wearing the mantle of rightness so proudly.

It is wise to listen to God’s instructions and respond his way…

Having failed in our efforts to get through to them, I went to God in prayer asking for help with the situation.  Just as I heard when taking my concerns to him in 2014, I again heard, “My dear child.”  I felt a sense of calmness when he called me his dear child.  I knew he understood my concerns and would give help – he did just that.  He suggested I write a letter to the one who had called – saying that I had been given instructions from God and that I was following those instructions.  I was to explain the hurt and sadness I was feeling, not only personally, but for her. I was also to tell her that being Conservative does not make one right or a speaker of truth.  How much better, God said, to speak and act with a Christian heart.  I followed the ‘received-from-Above’ instructions then mailed the letter.

After a few days, there was another phone call from the person to whom the letter was sent.  She said she was sorry and that she never meant to hurt anyone and asked forgiveness.  I said all was forgiven and forgotten and thought the relationship had been repaired.  She was not finished.  It was as though she felt that she must put an exclamation point on the end of our conversation by saying, “But I am right, and I know I am right because I am a Conservative!”  That ended the conversation. 

I did mean it when I said I forgave her, however, I did not forget – how could I when I was so sad for her and those who thought themselves so ‘in the right’ because of their political stance.  These were friends, people good in so many ways, much respected, looked up to, and yet, so flawed in their thinking.  I have cried many a tear for the far righters – many of whom evolved from calling themselves Conservative to calling themselves Evangelical Conservatives, wearing the mantle of rightness boldly and proudly.   I know God has cried for them, too, and he has never given up on trying to change their ideological-based hearts to Christian hearts. 

We rejoined the group eventually because God says that it is through reconciliation that we mend relationships.  Further, how could we ever expect reconciliation to take place unless we took the first step toward rebuilding relationships?  I must add that statements have continued that caused concern.  Some words and actions have been made to let us know that we are tolerated, but not wanted or considered credible.  Some members of the group have ostracized us in various ways, such as, not inviting us to certain events.  We have personally felt what it is like to be shunned, reduced to nothingness in their eyes and minds. We have had the experience of ones we considered close friends coming up to extend invitations to others in the group while shutting us off.  (They stood with backs turned to our faces, while facing the ones with whom we had been talking, and invited them to an event to which we, pre-politics- over-friendship times, would have expected an invitation.) Still, we pray for them, shed tears for them, and hope beyond hope that the day will come that they see their ways are not in line with God’s ways.  God says to love your neighbors as yourself, to be inclusive not exclusive, and reconcile differences.    

Another time I listened to God is related to the above-mentioned group.  In 2016 I was concerned about one of the GOP candidates for president.  In February of 2016, I took my concerns to God in prayer.  The answer I received was surprising:  “Beware the Ides of March.”  I had not thought of the Ides of March or even recalled hearing of it since my high school days of studying literature.  I did a search to see what I could find about the Ides of March.  It confirmed what I remembered from high school.   It refers to a time on or near the 15^th of March.  I did not have long to wait.  The Ides of March 2016 was the date of primary voting called Super Tuesday.  It was the date the GOP candidate, about whom I had many concerns, won so many votes that he was almost assured of winning the nomination. I knew why I had been told to ‘Beware the Ides of March’ – God knew in advance of it happening how the vote would go. 

After that when I would take my growing concerns to God in prayer, I heard, regarding that candidate, “My dear child, D….. J…. T….,” — (Not surprisingly, God, who knows all about us even unto the number of hairs on our head, called him by his full name after calling him his dear child) – “does not need votes, he needs help.”  (NOTE:  Please keep the date of February 2016 in mind – years before psychiatrists, ones who had worked closely with him, and family started warning about his need for mental health help.  God knows everything.  There is no fooling him.  If you have not noticed or have not heeded the warnings from others, then it is time to listen to God.  Read, understand, heed!  God says, “My dear child, D_____J____T____, does not need votes.  He needs help.” )

Up until this point, those in the above-mentioned group had said they could not vote for this person.  However, cracks in their thinking were beginning to get wider and wider as they became more receptive to the idea.  Even after his disparaging sexual comments about women, more and more were being swayed to his side.  The elders of the group — who had said the comments about Japs, Germans, and gays — kept saying they could never vote for him because of his adultery and his treatment of women.  It was a day in early fall of 2016 when the group had gathered that the announcement by them was loudly proclaimed, “We can’t vote for Hillary Clinton because she lies.  We will be voting for Trump.”  Their announcement was received with what equaled a ‘standing ovation’ from much of the group.  The die was cast.  The ones who had said never, never, never can I vote for this person were now saying that he was their candidate of choice to support.  The reason:  They had accepted that he was going to be the candidate of their party of choice.  They had chosen politics over religion; therefore, they felt they had no choice.  Yes, truly, the die was cast.

They were not the only ones who had changes of mind.  After President Bill Clinton’s relationship with Monica Lewinsky became public, I was talking with a friend. She wanted to make her feelings known about morals.  “I would never vote for anyone who has such poor morals and no values like Clinton.  He should never have been elected President and should be removed from office immediately.”  I said, “I don’t condone such behavior, but he is smart and certainly qualified to serve.”  My friend replied, “I would rather have a dumb president with good morals than a smart, qualified one with no morals.”

Fast forward to November 2016, this same friend proudly lined up to vote for one who had committed adultery, had shown no respect for women, had shown wrath and vindictiveness, had been documented on the number of lies he had told and continued to tell daily, and had no background or qualifications necessary for the office. Besides that, God had said, “This person does not need votes.  He needs help,” but I could not tell her that because God, at that time,  had requested I tell no one. In private, I openly wept for my brain-washed friend.  Prayers of concern for her, and for ones like her, were prayed daily.  Prayers continue to this day.  God has heard those prayers and has chosen to intercede in a way that only he who has the whole picture can. 

It was in the summer of 2016 that I heard another beware warning , “Beware the Ides of March 2019.”  Fear gripped my heart for I knew whatever was going to happen was not going to be good.  I had a two-and-a-half year wait to find out about the 2019 warning.  The Ides of March 2019 was supposed to have brought the release of the Mueller report; however, circumstances extended its release to Attorney General William Barr on March 22, 2019 – still within, what is considered by most, the period known as the Ides of March.  It was not until April 2019 that the DOJ (Department of Justice) released a highly redacted form.  Trump, as President at that time, placed an executive privilege order on it.  The people, including Congress, were not privileged to see its contents. (Have this verified in my 2019 journal and by emails sent to key persons.) The false narratives and interpretations given to it by then-Attorney General Barr did not present a true picture of what was contained in the report.   According to his interpretation, the President was portrayed as an innocent victim. 

Since that time, the Attorney General in 2019 has tried to make amends.  I know not what is in his heart, so I will not say he is not sincere in those change-of-heart efforts, but I will say that he has a lot for which to make amends.  He turned his back on the oath of office he took and served the President instead of the people.  There is good news for Bill Barr, and for the many others like him who served the President and are now seeking to make amends.  There is also good news for the ex-President. Know this:  God wants people to admit their wrongs and seek to make things right.  He can wash sins as white as snow.  It is called asking for forgiveness and being forgiven.  Just remember, you cannot fool God.  He knows your thoughts and knows what fills your heart.

Another call to service…

I would be remiss if I failed to tell of another call to service that I received in 2021 — what I am remembering without doing a diary search for exact date.  Our church was struggling for many reasons.  Of course, COVID was a part of the blame, but we had been struggling some with attendance and finances even before it hit.  I was praying – asking God what could be done to help, and,  just as I asked what I could do to help that led to my first calling, I was given an answer.  “Do not let the church fail.”  I did not question, I did not argue as I had during my first calling to write a book, nor in my second calling when I was told to start a blog.  I did not know what was meant by ‘do not let the church fail’ and I did not know what I could to help, but I had learned, by this time, that when God gives a task to be done, he is right there giving the help needed. I did not have long to find that he had already prepared for this task.  He said, “You are but a remnant of what you used to be as church, but the remnant has just the right talents and resources to succeed.” 

I thought of our church people and realized that, indeed, we did have the right talents and resources, if only everyone would step up to help in whatever ways they could.  I recalled the then-recent time when we were having difficulty getting anyone to accept chairman of the board.  I had my husband’s name pop into my head.  I talked with him about how he was the one needed for the job.  It took much persuasion because he thought he was too old, too weak of mind and body to tackle the job.  Through the years, he had served 3 times as chairman – one of the times he served two consecutive terms – so he knew of the tremendous responsibilities.  Finally, he realized that he was needed, and, with my help and, especially, with God’s help, he would succeed.  He did the job and did it well – laying the foundation for future success by asking some of the younger people to step up and take key positions.  These same ones realized they had been placed in the right place at the right time.  We have managed – with everyone contributing as they were able — to survive through hard times and have not let the local church fail.  There is promise for a bright future. 

The realization hit me that God was not meaning just our local church must not fail, but the church universal must not fail.  I did not know what I could do about the broader inclusion in the calling.  Then an ‘aha’ moment happened, God had prepared for this, also.  If I listened to his directions and followed through on carrying his messages of love and reconciliation to the world, the church, along with family units, government at all levels would not fail if the people paid attention to, accepted these messages as truth, and made the necessary heart changes.   Reconciling with God and with others would solve all problems.  I am encouraged when I see leaders in church, in government, in families recognize that things are not going well because of those not willing to cooperate to make things better.  It gives hope when they speak out against and work to correct the wrongs.  Cooperating, working together, and reconciling are key to bringing Light into our dark world. 

My concerns continue and seemingly grow daily because of family, friends, acquaintances, religious leaders, political leaders, and millions of others who have made politics their religion and political leaders their idols.  (Note:  I have it well documented via emails and in the journal that I am telling the truth about the advance Ides of March warnings of 2016 and 2019 and all other things reported.   I also have dated journal entries and dated emails to others showing that the events above did happen when and how I said they happened – there may be minor differences in the wording, even with exact dates, but the main points are the same. These documentations will be made available, to ones who need verification, at the appropriate time.  I will add here that some of these ones to whom I sent emails cannot remember my telling them about the Ides of March 2016 and 2019.  Just shows me even more that God knew this kind of thing would happen, so he asked me to keep a diary/journal and, also, to save emails for documentation when needed.)                                                                                                                                        

God wanted someone who was born and raised in the South…

God wanted someone from the South so experiences unique to the South would be had.  He got that in me.  In addition to personal experiences, he knew that I would be taught about the Civil War, slavery, etc. as it was taught in the South.  As a result of those teachings, I grew up thinking how much better it would have been if the South had won the war instead of the North.  Talk of the Civil War experiences of not-that-distant family members were kept alive and repeated.  I learned of family members killed by bushwhackers and maternal great and great great grandfathers who were doctors called — by those with different political and war views than theirs — to help tend the hurt and dying.   Being doctors, they had hearts that wanted to help save anyone they could.  I knew my family experiences were like what the children in other families were hearing. 

I also remember being taught about how my state could stand alone or only work with other like-minded states if necessary.  At the time, I felt proud that my state could survive isolation.  In hindsight, I realize these were hints of succession, if ever necessary, to defend beliefs and values.  I was given the following addition today (2-7-24):   At the urge of those who hold extremist views and supported by those who call themselves Patriots, a very large state at this time is considering succession.  God warns these successionists and any others who are giving consideration to these tactics of division:  “You would be selling your soul for naught.”  He then added, “Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and every city or house divided against itself will not stand.”

I recognized this last part about division to be one of the scriptures he had given me the morning after I had answered his call. 

Matthew 12: 25 is written on my diary page of that November morning in 2014.  In other words, united we stand, divided we fall.” Aesop made use of this line at the end of The Four Oxen and the Lion. The state of Missouri has it written around the central of the flag.  Those seeking to divide us would do well to pay attention to what will happen. God is saying — to those who are threatening succession and to those who are using words, actions, and tactics that divide us — we are only strong when we work together for the good of all.  When we divide, we will fall.   .  God asks, “Is desolation and failure what you want?   If not, wake up and reconcile.”

A racist hometown…

I was raised in a southern town that was known to be very racist.  If a person of color dared step foot in town, they better be gone by dark.  It is fighting that image today, but since it is home to an active KKK compound, it is a difficult image to fight.  There were experiences in my life that shaped my thinking and caused my concerns which, also, turned out to be God’s concerns.

I was around 8 years old when Mother and I went to a drug store for a cherry Coke.  Those were the days when a drug store was a combination of a store that had a pharmacy, had gifts and cosmetics, and had a counter with stools plus small tables and chairs where those who had ordered a soda, coffee, or sandwich could sit to enjoy their food and drink while socializing.  Drug stores were popular places to go, especially in the summertime, because they were air conditioned and provided relief from the heat in a time when very few places had air conditioning.  This drug store had a back door that opened to a drive-through for buses to load and unload passengers and to give passengers time to stretch or get something to eat or drink. 

On this day, the back door opened and a young black woman with a small child entered the drug store.  It was obvious they had been on the bus. The men sitting at the tables turned their chairs to glare at her.  They made rude remarks meant to intimidate her.  Mother and I were sitting on stools at the counter.  The young woman walked up to the counter and quietly and politely asked the young man behind the counter for a glass of water – no disposable cups in those days – for her thirsty child.  The young man answered loudly, “We don’t serve n—–s!”  Mother immediately asked for a glass of water.  The young man probably thought Mother was asking to emphasize the point that white people could get water, but not blacks.  He handed the water to Mother who, in turn, gave the glass to the young woman.  Mother then said in a loud voice so all could hear, “Now, if you think that glass will be contaminated, which it will not be, I will gladly pay for the glass.  What I will not stand for is to see someone thirsty, especially a child, and not give them water if it is in my power to do so.”  She then looked at the young woman and asked her if she would like a sandwich or something else to drink.  The young woman smiled at Mother, told her they needed nothing else, thanked her, and handed the empty glass to her.  She then took her child’s hand and walked to the back door to continue her bus journey. 

Mother taught me, and hopefully others present, a life’s lesson that day.  It is not skin color that determines whom we should serve.  Everyone deserves to have their basic needs met and to be treated with dignity and compassion.  I have often thought of that young woman and child.  I wondered if they had a safe trip to their destination and had a good life.  I also wondered if the young woman ever thought of the lone woman — among many hostile, racist, white men — brave enough and compassionate enough to give her and her thirsty child water – all with a pleasant smile and caring voice.

Mother’s actions that day remind me of the scripture in Matthew “I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink,” which ends with the message that when you do it to the least of these, you do it to me.   It also showed me what was meant by ‘pretty is as pretty’ does.  Mother looked to me even prettier than she had before.  She had a glow about her, a look of compassion in her eyes that made her beautiful.  The young woman’s courage, politeness, respectfulness, and gratefulness made her seem even prettier, also.   On the other hand, the men – businessmen — who had always seemed dignified and nice looking before and the young man behind the counter seemed not so handsome or dignified to me.  Their hate and ugliness which was usually hidden on the inside came out for full display that day. .   After having that experience, not only  ‘pretty is as does’ but the opposite – ‘ugly is as ugly does’ — had meaning for me forevermore.  I learned that love speaks positively, and hate speaks negatively.  How you speak and act affects how others view you.

Skin color is not the only thing that divides ‘us’ from ‘them’…

My parents were business owners.  Mother often helped.  Most summer days when Mother was working, I would walk up a long hill from downtown to an aunt’s house.  She was a wonderful cook and I looked forward to sharing in the noon meal, which was the main meal of the day.  After the meal was finished, my uncle would return to work, and I would help with the dishes.   Our afternoons were usually spent in the back yard in the shade of a big tree, sipping cold glasses of lemonade, or sweet tea, and visiting.

It was during one of those afternoon sessions that a big moving van pulled up to the house across the street. Soon after, a nice vehicle pulled up and from it emerged a tall, distinguished looking man, a very pretty woman, and a girl that looked about my age.  I was excited about the prospect of making a new friend.  Following Southern tradition, my aunt said that we would wait a day or so, to give the new family a chance to get settled, then she would make an angel food cake with 7-minute frosting, and we’d take it over to introduce ourselves and to welcome them to the neighborhood.  We did just that.  We learned that the father had just retired from the service, and they were hoping to make their settled home in our town. The mother and my aunt were very compatible, and the daughter and I bonded quickly. 

Their house was filled with interesting items picked up from the various countries in which they had lived.  There were glass cases displaying beautiful porcelain pieces.  It seemed my new friend had a doll from every country in the world.  They had beautifully woven rugs.  I felt as though I was being introduced to the world, and I had able and willing teachers to help me learn about places I had only read about in books.

The magical summer passed quickly, and school started.  My new friend was not in my class as she was a year older.  I had told her she would make friends quickly, but this was not to be.  I had not faced what she had to face.  Even though she had nice clothes, was very smart, was warm and friendly, she was not welcomed.  Because she and her parents were not from ‘local stock’ – meaning they were newcomers, not one of ‘us’ — so should not be trusted or accepted.   

When her birthday was approaching, she wanted to have a party.  Her mother planned special games and refreshments.  Many were invited, but few came.  I hurt for her and her parents.  They had hoped to find a welcoming place to settle, but instead were not welcomed, shunned.  They packed up and moved on, hopefully, to a place where they were welcome.  Their move seemed to me to be a loss for our community.  I forever felt that had she been in my class, she would have had a better chance of being accepted.  Our class was more like a family where we accepted one another and helped each other succeed.  But she was not my age, not in my class, so, sadly, a friend was lost through no fault of her own. 

Rejected by Blackballing…

I was accepted into an organization for girls when I was in high school.  It provided opportunities to grow in self-confidence and to develop friendships.  I enjoyed it until it came time to accept a new class of applicants.  Until then, I had no idea how the acceptance process was handled.  I had assumed that if a girl wanted to be in it and qualified according to the guidelines, she would be welcomed.  When it came time to vote on the candidates, we considered each candidate separately and voted on them by secretly placing a white ball in the ballot box if you wanted to accept the candidate or placing a black ball in the ballot box if you voted against the candidate.  The process went smoothly with the first two or three girls receiving all white balls meaning acceptance for them.  Then came the count where one of the candidates received many black balls.  I thought there must be a mistake.  Our adult advisor must have thought so, too, for she read the girl’s letter asking for acceptance, read her qualifications, then explained once again the voting process of the white balls and black balls.  We then voted again with the same results as before.  Following this vote, the advisor asked the reasons for the black balls.  I was shocked at the reasons given:  “She is not smart enough.”  “She would not have formals for our special occasions.”  “She does not come from a family that could give her the things she needs in order to fit in with us.” 

My thoughts and reactions upon hearing these comments:  I wanted to cry – for the girls doing and saying the hurtful words and actions and for the girl who would be told she was not accepted.  I remember thinking I hoped the girl never heard the reasons given for not accepting her.  I thought of a time when I went to my mother asking, “Why can’t I be pretty like Mary Ann?  Mother said, “Pretty is as pretty does.  You are a good girl.  I think you are very pretty.” I quickly replied, “But Mary Ann is pretty on the inside and the outside.”  Suddenly, the girls I had thought to be pretty on the outside, had shown a not-so-pretty side of themselves.  They no longer looked as pretty to me.  I understood what Mother meant when she said, “Pretty is as pretty does.” I stayed in the organization until just before the next session to select a new class.  I did not want to witness another blackball session where ugliness, pettiness, and hurtfulness might be on display. 

Politics can cause rejection…

I never heard much about political views—just discussions about the issues and funny stories about politics.   Thus, I never thought about politics causing problems between family members or friends until my mid-20s. 

A rude awakening came November 22, 1963.  Our supervisor called four of us, who worked near each other and were friends at work and outside of work, out of our workspaces to tell us, with tears in her eyes and with a voice cracking from emotion, that President John Fitzgerald Kennedy had been shot and killed in Dallas.   Three of the four of us started crying and began wondering what this tragedy would mean for our country.  The fourth of the group declared, “Well, good riddance!”  We all looked at her in disbelief at what we had just heard her declare.   After making the statement, she turned and went back to work as though nothing had happened.  The incident was never discussed among us.  I can only speak for myself and to my reaction to what had happened.  It jarred me to the core that someone could be so political that the death of the President of the United States which caused our nation to be vulnerable could be viewed through such hate-filled eyes.  She showed what was in her heart.  In my hurting for our country and for the Kennedy family, I also felt sadness and hurt for my friend.  This friend taught Sunday School, went to a very fundamental church, and appeared to be loving and kind to all. 

Once again, Mother’s ‘pretty is as pretty does’ story came to mind when my friend responded to Kennedy’s death as she did.  After her response, this friend no longer looked as pretty to me as she had before.  She had shown her inner, ugly self and I felt betrayed, hoodwinked.  An ugly crack had been made in my oft-times Pollyanna-like view of the world.  After that, I noticed things about my friend that I had not noticed before.  She at times built herself up as right and others wrong, showed strong views, including that Catholics weren’t Christian, that had come from the fundamental church she attended, would subtly point out wrongs of others, according to her beliefs, was judgmental, did not want to associate with certain people who did not live up to her standards, was outspoken as to which political party had the right morals—things that had slipped by me or dismissed before my rose-colored glasses were jarred off by her remark that November 1963 day.  

Since I am typically a positive person, again, a result of my having positive examples in my growing-up years, it didn’t take me long to return to my usual expecting-the-best- from-others self.

When my husband and I moved from the place where the ugly happening took place, I stayed connected with my friends via letters.  When I heard about the death of the friend who had shown ill-will in her heart, I wondered if she had changed and asked forgiveness.  I hoped so.  I also wondered if I had failed her by not letting her know how the remark had affected me. 

This was not to be the last time I have wondered if I have failed to help others as I should.  Neither was this the last time I would come face-to-face with the ugliness, the divisiveness, the self-righteousness, the disorderliness, the untruthfulness, the tunnel vision of politics. The story above about Democrats who voted for Obama are not Christian is just one of many such events I have witnessed.   Still, I viewed government of, by, and for the people (John Wycliffe, 1384; Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address) as necessary.  I agreed with my Grandpa who said in his write-up when asking for the chance to serve as an officer of the county, that an office holder should keep oneself from being beholden to any organization or groups, run a clean office, remember that the people are in control and all people should be treated with courtesy and kindness.  I felt, and still feel, that we the people should hold ourselves to the same high standards in all dealings and our leaders should set that example.  (I have a copy of the newspaper article in which Grandpa made these statements.)

2/7/24 became a morning of some important additions.  When I was making my morning coffee, I was urged to turn on the TV and pay attention to what was being covered.  It was the interview on CNN of former Senator Bill Bradley giving examples, from history, that are eerily and sadly like happenings today. He then mentioned Rolling Along:  An American Story.  I was urged to suggest we each find out about and pay attention to ‘Rolling Along’ and be determined to make necessary changes.  My thoughts:  God is at work.  He works in mysterious and unexpected ways.  I just witnessed one of the ways he works through those who have answered his call to help.  Sometimes the person does not even realize they have answered a call.  That matters not to God, if they follow his quiet urgings.  When and if they realize it, they should give God the praise and glory.  Any money earned should be used to help correct the related wrongs.

A gentle reminder to start at the very beginning:  A Messenger announced the time of my birth…
My parents and my 7-year-old brother lost a precious and much-loved 9-month-old baby girl to pneumonia in December 1935.  They were devastated.  Soon after her death, my paternal grandfather began telling them they would have another girl and she would be born on his birthday.  This was repeated often through the next 4 years and 3 months.  On his birthday in 1940, Grandpa was sitting in a bent-back, twig rocker on the front porch of their little white house when Dad came out to open their next-door service station and grocery store in the small southern town where I was born.  Dad’s greeting, so the story goes, “Happy Birthday, Pa.  What are you doing here so early this cold morning?”  Grandpa replied, “I’m here because our girl is going to be born today.”  “Well, you may have a long wait.”    There was a wait before, just as Grandpa had predicted, I entered the world on his birthday.  

Grandpa and I shared a special bond.  He was a tall man of gentle nature.  He was a farmer and had a love of the land and the creatures of the land. He was warm, compassionate, and had a way about him that made me always feel I was in good, safe hands when I was with him.  Like father, like son — Dad was of the same stature and same nature.  He, too, loved the land and all the creatures of the land.  I felt loved and safe with Dad. (God wants us to use this like father, like son example to help us understand the relationship of God and Jesus – like Father, like SON.  

Preparing me to be a messenger…

It was a tradition in the church where I grew up to have a Christmas pageant – the kind with Mary, Joseph, the stable, shepherds, and the angel messenger. In my mind, the reason the girl chosen to be Mary was because she was the prettiest of all.  I eagerly awaited each year for the announcement of who would be assigned to the special parts.  Each year I was disappointed because I was never chosen to be Mary.  Instead, year after year, I was given the only speaking part in the pageant – the part of the angel announcing the birth of the Christ child to the shepherds.  I felt honored to have a part, especially a speaking part, while at the same time, I felt disappointment. 

When I was grown, I began to think differently about the messenger angel.  As a part of the audience during a Christmas pageant, when it came time for the announcement to the shepherds, I mouthed the words with the ‘angel’ – words that came flooding back to me from those long-ago days.  “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you;  You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”   Afterwards, I would go up to thank the children and tell them they had done a good job.  I often would seek out the one who had the part of the angel and relate I had that part each year when I was young.  I think I caught them off guard and they did not know how to respond.  Most of the time, they would look at me as though I was a weird, old woman and scurry away.

When I started writing the book and, again, as part of the Valentine message in the blog, God gave me, his messenger, the following to include,  “Fear not; yea, behold these good tidings of great joy which are for all people.  Messages of truth are being delivered anew unto you so that Light may replace darkness.  If you choose to receive and heed this gift of love – the greatest love story ever retold – with eyes open so that my messages of truth will be heard, minds open to understanding truth over untruths, and hearts open to love, I will heal you, restore your health – mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual; yea, I will restore your very soul.”

It finally began to sink into my being that God had been preparing me to be one of his messengers even before I was born.  It had begun with my Grandpa preparing the family for my birth by announcing that they would have a baby girl born on his birthday.  Then year after year, I had the part of the messenger angel in the Christmas pageant – a part that I remember to this day.  I’m sure when God’s messages are made known, I will be thought of as a weird, old woman who has lost her senses – it seems to be the ‘go to’ thing to do against ones thought to be too old and too mentally incompetent for the job.   That’s okay with me.  It is what God thinks that counts and he thinks age has nothing to do with being the one for the job.  It is also okay with me if the messages are taken to heart and the necessary changes made as God yearns for them to be made.  After all, saving souls is the purpose of God’s messages.

God wanted someone who would realize the importance of education…

It is through the paternal side of the family that I came to value public education.  In an era where public schools were not always available, Grandpa was grateful that his family had lived where he could attend school through the first year of high school.  He encouraged his children to further their education beyond high school – three daughters became teachers and my dad attended business school.  He and my grandmother lived in a town with public schools from 1^st – 12^th grade.  They opened their home, through school terms, to nieces, nephews, cousins, and any others who lived where there were no schools and who wanted to attend school.  Their only requirements: do you best, help and respect one another. Through the years I had many of the beneficiaries of kindness from my grandparents tell me how grateful they were for the opportunity to attend school.  They also told me how nice and helpful my dad and his sisters were to them.

It was the schoolteacher aunt after whom I was named who taught me to read at an early age.  From time to time, she let me go to school with her and help with reading groups since I knew all the words and was familiar with the stories.  I would do the math and other lessons right along with her students.  Kindergarten, when it was available, was private, not public, in those days.  Although it was a sacrifice financially, my parents, seeing the great advantages to doing so, sent me to kindergarten.  My dad was a math whiz, loved geography, and nature.  He taught me about plants, trees, bird calls, had me memorize the state capitals, learn important facts of each state, helped me learn addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division facets, and taught me to read maps.  I loved school and always strived to do my best.  Again, like father, like son, Dad valued education. He encouraged, not demanded, or threatened, us kids to do our best. Mother encouraged us in the areas of the language arts and performing arts. They were good helpers and encouragers.   He and Mother always voted for any issue that was good for public schools and against any issue that would harm public schools. Dad and Mother faithfully voted up until each passed away at 78 and 92 respectively. They said that other people had helped with the education of their children and grandchildren, and they wanted to return the favor.  Voting on school issues was the way they could help.

My husband and I have an interest in and advocated for quality public education for all. Quality public education for all is a right.  It is especially important to advocate in every way possible for education since it is a stated target from ones who have tried to privatize and destroy public education.  They encourage private and religious schools, charter schools, and homeschooling.  These schools do not have to accept everyone.  That makes it easier to divide into ‘us’ and ‘them’.  These are not held to the same standards that public schools are, so evaluation of them is difficult to impossible.  They work to gain for these schools funding meant for public education.  They put out false information against public schools in their effort to show they are not safe.  At the same time, they argue that the way to make schools safer is guns, guns, and more guns.  They target teachers by efforts to take away their retirement systems, by working through state legislatures to make laws harmful to teachers, by working to keep pay low, by reducing rights.  They do all they can to make it difficult for teachers to teach. They work for rights of parents, meaning they want parents to object to the point that schools are viewed negatively by the public.  People with these destructive goals, run for school boards, library boards, health boards.  Dark money is at work making it difficult to fight against the wrongs and the harm being done to public education.  (Teachers have been encouraged by us and others interested in public education to pay attention to the damage being done to education.  We have asked them to study the damage done by the GOP  through billionaires — such as, the Koch brothers, the DeVos family, Rex Sinquefield — organizations — such as ALEC, Show-Me  Institute –, GOP leaders at every level of government.  There are some teachers, however, who put politics above the well-being of education and themselves.   These teachers will not listen to truths and will not face the facts even when actions negatively affect their pocketbooks.)

I thought I was finished with this part of the post, but I was reminded of my experiences that relate to homeschooling and private schooling.  I’ll reveal the following — a meshing of two very similar cases of homeschooling:

I knew of a family who thought long and hard about pulling their two children out of public school and homeschooling them.  I was asked my opinion on homeschooling, and I voiced it.  I told them that from the cases I had observed, children had not had the peer contact that they needed to develop healthy relationships.  Also, it seemed that the lack of competition had led to a lack of desire to develop to their fullest potential;  therefore, those who were homeschooled often had not become the best possible self.  I named other important observations; however, these were ignored.  The church they attended promoted homeschooling.  They listened to the urgings and suggestions of their church leaders.  The children were homeschooled. 

The children turned out to be successful adults in their life endeavors from all appearances.  However, an opportunity I had to interact with one of them on a professional level supported the concerns I had expressed to the parents.  This young person openly talked about being fearful of neighbors, co-workers, even some of the other church members.  He made the remark that his wife says he is afraid of everything and everyone.  He laughed nervously and added that he’s afraid to go out to interact with neighbors since they don’t seem to be people who value the same things I do.  He added, “I even imagine that they have trained their dogs, pigs, and cattle to attack me.”  I asked if he had anything to back up this fear, and he said, “No, it is just like my wife says, ‘I’m afraid of everything and everyone.’”   I asked him if this had made it difficult for him to establish positive relationships and if it interfered with his work.  He said yes to the difficulty with relationships.  About work, he said, “I can do much of my work without having to interact with others.  This helps me get through;  I can just put my head down and carry on with the tasks at hand.”  I asked if he was happy.  He told me that fear takes up so much space and time that there is little room or time for happiness. He admitted to not having many happy experiences in his life even though he had parents who loved and cared for him, an understanding and loving wife, children of his own, a job that provided for his family.  “My family became my world, and I realize that’s a very small world. I never had what I would call solid friendships and I have missed that.”   

A few years later, I ran into his mother in a store aisle.  We talked for a while before she confessed that I had been right, and she and her husband had been wrong in homeschooling.  The children missed out on some important interactions with peers and on important activities – all things they could not provide.  Their church leaders and members who had encouraged homeschooling had not provided the support promised.

I shed tears for this young man and his brother for all they had missed in life.  I continue to think of them and pray for them though I have no idea if the brother was affected as deeply as the young man to whom I spoke. God does not want us to be filled with fear. Think of the many times in the Bible when we are told to fear not.  Reread the ‘Valentine from God’ post in which he says to fear not.  When we are filled with fear, we are not open to listening and thinking clearly.  People who are filled with fear are more prone to listen to fearmongering false leaders who are trying, and are usually successful, in gaining their attention and support.  As a result, their lives will become darker and more fearful.

God wanted someone who realizes music is a universal language …

Music has been a part of my life from an early age.  My mother had a beautiful alto voice.  She started singing at church, school, and community gatherings at a young age. Her father, wanting to encourage her in her fondness and talent for music, found a piano teacher for her.  There was just one problem.  Mother had an inborn ability to hear a piece of music then play it – in other words, she ‘played by ear’ – therefore, her piano teacher declared that there was no way she could help her learn to play by music.  Fortunately, at the time, there were traveling musicians who held singing schools.  They taught by shape notes.  Mother learned shape notes and could sing and play any piece of music that had shape notes, though she still added her own unique sounds and most often she would just play the songs by ear. 

A note of interest:  Have you ever heard the song, “I’ll Fly Away” by Albert Brumley?  Albert Brumley conducted one of those singing schools Mother attended.  In the late 60s, I believe it was, we took her to Powell, MO to a singing on the grounds of the Brumley home.   Mother talked with Albert Brumley and was able to express her appreciation to him.  What a day of rejoicing that was for Mother!

There is a special musical memory that fits here :  We had a children’s choir in our church.  As Christmas time neared, we learned Silent Night.  I was excited to share what I had learned with my parents. I told them I had learned the most beautiful song I had ever heard, and I wanted to teach it to them. I told them I would sing it so they could learn it.  When I was finished, my parents never let on that they knew the song.  Mother just sat down at the piano and suggested we all sing it together.  We did just that!  It never seemed strange to me that Mother could play it after just hearing it one time.  That was a regular happening with her. 

Some of my fondest childhood and teenage memories are ones involving music.  Dad’s mother sang and could play the piano.  Dad saved up money from his first job and bought his mother a piano and fancy piano stool.  My paternal grandmother passed away a few years after Mother and Dad were married, so I never saw her. However, she was honored through stories shared.  Some of those stories involved music.  One of Dad’s sisters enjoyed singing.  The others, including Dad, liked to jig dance.  I treasure the memories of being at Grandpa’s house with Mother at Grandma’s piano playing lively songs and Dad, his sisters, my brother, cousins, and I jig dancing to the music. I could imagine Grandpa jig dancing when he was younger.  However, Grandpa, then in his older years, sat in his rocking chair clapping and tapping his foot in time with the music. 

Mother sang in the church choir and in gospel quartets.  Many Friday nights and Sunday afternoons were spent at area singings.  Usually, one night of each week was spent in practicing with the quartets.  Dad always supported Mother.  He drove us here, there, and everywhere to singings.  Three of Mother’s siblings, their mates, and children liked to attend the singings also.  When all of us were in attendance, we filled up a couple of rows of seats. My sister, cousins, and I sometimes share fond memories of our time at ‘singings’.

Another favorite memory is going to hear famous gospel quartets of the time when they were in the area.  Some I remember were the Stamps Baxter Quartet, the Blackwood Brothers, and the Statesmen.  I especially liked watching the piano player of each group.  Never had I seen anyone who could play and put on a show quite like they did.

Mother had hoped one of us kids would have musical abilities.  We did not.  I had piano lessons and learned enough to play church songs.  I also had dance lessons.  I enjoyed both piano and dance but did not excel at either.   In junior high, I wanted to play in the band.  The flute was my instrument of choice.  (Note: In grade school, the young, beautiful music teacher taught us much about music.  Her handsome husband was my band teacher and was a natural teacher just as his wife had been.)  I enjoyed band and continued to be a part of it until my senior year.  Taking chemistry and some higher-level courses that would better serve me for college took precedence over the band.  I will add that singing, dancing, playing the piano, and listening to music have added great joy to my life.  The rhythms of music have flowed through my body helping me navigate the rhythms of life. 

God wanted someone with a servant’s heart…

My parents were both loving and compassionate people and showed it by serving others.

Dad would give the shirt off his back if someone asked for it or if he saw someone who needed it.  My folks were in the restaurant business from most of the time I was 4 or 5 until I was a sophomore in college.  If someone needed a good meal, they found out that they would be fed if they asked Dad for food.  One such person we called the ‘egg’ man.  He lived in a cave and would come to town from time to time.  I don’t know how he learned about our café, but on the rare occasions he came into town, he would find his way to a seat just at mealtime.  We never had to ask what he wanted.  His choice:  6 eggs, buttered toast, and coffee.  He was never presented with a bill – just food, pleasantries, and a wish for a good day. 

If someone asked for work, Dad would find something for them to do – mow the lawn, clean the vehicle, rake leaves, or anything that would help them feel they had earned what they needed.  Dad would make sure they were fed also.  One time, after a man had completed his work and had been paid, Dad invited him inside the house for a sandwich.  Sometime after he left, Dad noticed that some coins from his coin collection were missing.  The coins had been spread out on a small table near the window seat in the dining room where Dad had been working.  His comment on finding them missing,  “He needed them more than I did.  I just wish he had asked for them and I would have given them to him.”

In the neighborhood, it was Dad who got the mail and paper and slipped them inside the screen door for those who had trouble navigating.  Often, they were delivered with a hot cup of soup or bowl of pinto beans, cornbread, and dessert.  In hot weather, Dad would greet the mailman with a cold glass of water, tea, or lemonade.  In the winter, it was coffee or hot chocolate that was given.  

Mother served as room mother, Brownie Scout leader, taught Sunday School among many other things.  It was her mission to go to nursing homes to sing, play the piano, and visit with the residents.  Dad, my sister, and I would go with her.  When she had finished singing and playing the piano, we three would pass out the homemade treats that Mother had for them. 

Their servant hearts must have been passed on to me.  From a young age, I wanted to help others.  Let me give an example:  Each Christmas our family would adopt a family or two. We would deliver groceries so they could have food for a few weeks.  I vividly remember the Christmas Eve day delivery of our offerings to a family who had a young girl. They invited us into the house.  The house had no fine furnishings, but the house was neat and clean. The floors were covered with linoleum.  I remember how the linoleum was so shiny and bright that it looked as though it had just been waxed.  The cooking odor was something that I had never smelled before.  They said they were cooking possum and were going to have it for Christmas dinner.  We visited for a while then left.  The next morning, I found under the Christmas tree a doll that was almost as tall as I was.  She was beautiful.  I knew just what I wanted to do with her.  I asked my parents if someone would take me back to the house we had visited the day before, so that I could give the doll to the girl.  My parents asked me if I was sure that was what I wanted to do.  Without hesitation, I said it was.  Dad and I delivered it to the girl.  Her smile and eyes showed me that I had done the right thing.  I never regretted my decision. 

To this day, it gives me great joy to gift others.  My husband and I have been involved in Habitat, providing needs for homeless shelters, food for pantries, serving on outreach and mission at our church, cooking food to share with neighbors, and the list goes on and on.  When I said to this day, that’s exactly what is meant.  We are well into our 80s and the sharing continues, bringing us joy in knowing we are helping.

God wanted someone who had family members who served in the Armed Forces… 

My husband and I both had many family members who served in the Armed Forces.  They served this country from the Revolutionary War (two were with Washington when crossing the Delaware – we have been to the Crossing spot/museum and verified that their names are listed) on through more recent wars. 

My brother was 12 years older than I.  He was the best big brother anyone could ever hope to have.  He joined the Army as soon as he graduated from high school.  On my 7^th birthday, I received a long-distance phone call from my brother, stationed in Japan, wishing me a happy birthday.  Those were the days when making and receiving long distance phone calls were rare.  To this day, when recalling this, I remember how special it was to hear his voice.  Mother put a write-up about it in our local newspaper.  In case they missed it, I filled in the details to everyone who would listen.  He was still in Japan in 1948 and witnessed the hanging of Tojo.  

After he served his stint in the Army, he joined the Marines.  As a Marine, he fought in the Korean War.  He was always proud of his years of service.

My brother was not the only family member who served.  A first cousin joined the navy.  He was on shore leave when Pearl Harbor was bombed.  His childhood friend was killed when their ship, the USS Shaw, was hit by a bomb.  This cousin escaped physical harm and went on to live a productive life of service.  However, he was forever scarred by the memories and experiences.

Other cousins and uncles served in the Armed Forces.

My Dad was too old young to serve in World War I and too old in WWII.  Wanting to do something to help the cause, Dad and Mother sold their grocery store and service station, and the little white house where I was born and went to California to work in the shipyards.  I remember the stark apartment they rented.  Mother joined the work force – Rosie-the-Riveter style – working days.  Dad worked nights.  As the war was winding down, they moved back to their home state in the South.  They were glad to have made the sacrifices and have been a part of defending the country, albeit, not with guns.   

God wanted someone who enjoyed and learned from travel…

My family enjoyed exploring.  By the time I was ready for college, I had been in all the Western states, except Washington, in most of the Midwestern states, and in several Southern states and Mexico.  I had briefly lived in 3 different states.  We had visited several national parks, waded in the Pacific ocean, crossed the Mississippi River, explored the childhood haunts of Abraham Lincoln, Daniel Boone, and Davy Crockett, wrapped our arms around giant redwoods, dipped toes into the Great Salt Lake, gazed upon the deep, blue waters of Crater Lake, fished in lakes, rivers, and mountain streams.  When we would get ready for a trip, Dad would study the map, memorizing the route we would take.  If I am recalling correctly, he never had to refer to the map again.  (Keep in mind, this cannot be compared to travel today with so many more highways, so much more road construction, etc.)

One special time of travel was when Mother and two of her sisters wanted to visit their sister who lived in Oregon.  Dad agreed to be the chauffeur with Mother as back-up driver if needed.  We had a brand-new black GMC pickup.  Dad built a wooden cover to put over the pick-up bed.  He took the seats out of our car and put them in the back of the truck so some could sit in the cab and some in back. Counting my Mother, Dad, sister, two aunts, a cousin, and me there were 7 of us.  Our goal was to go through as many states and see as many sites going and returning as possible.  We went to at least 14 states that I remember, maybe more.  I especially remember water from the melting snow gushing out of the mountainside in the Rockies, staying at a hotel in Idaho Springs, Colorado, seeing the Three Sisters in Oregon signaling we were getting closer to where my aunt and family lived, playing with seaweed, seeing seahorses, starfish, and wading in the Pacific Ocean, seeing the hot pools, buffalo, elk, and Old Faithful at Yellowstone, going to a museum in Cody, Wyoming, eating at a café near the Great Salt Lake where we spotted a magazine picture of a soldier in Korea who looked like the son of one of my aunts (she was ready to turn around and head home, but her sisters convinced her she couldn’t do anything to help if she was home), and many happy times spent while at the home of my aunt, uncle, and cousin in Oregon.  There were other states visited and other sites seen while on this once-in-a-lifetime, all-time favorite, memory-making trip.  That Dad kept his cool with all us women and girls speaks to his good nature, patience, and gentleness.

Since those childhood and teen days, I have lived in 3 other states, 6 total.  My husband and I have done extensive travel in all 50 states, Mexico, Canada, and 7 other countries.  It is in those travels that I found that we are more alike than we are different. 

God wanted someone who had ‘me, too,’ experiences…

To this day, it is painful to recall the experiences I am about to relate.  I will be as short in explanation as possible to prevent a reliving of the trauma any longer than necessary.

The first experience I had was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in high school.  It involved the minister of my church after he had delivered all the group who had attended church camp – except me – to their homes.  Not understanding why I was last one home, instead of the first as expected, I asked my friend, who was next to the last one out, to please get my suitcase as he was retrieving his suitcase from the trunk.  He did and I put the suitcase at my feet in the front seat of the car – we had been assigned seats.

As we neared my house, the minister pulled into an alley behind my house instead of letting me out at the front door.  He stopped the car at a spot hidden from view of any houses.  He started moving across the seat toward me and put his arm behind me.  He said, “I was so jealous of (named my friend).  I could not understand why he would be jealous of my friend.  It was when he started moving closer that I got scared.   I opened the door, grabbed my suitcase, and ran as fast as I could down the alley and into the house.  The happenings after that are a blur in my mind.  I cannot remember if my parents were home or not.  I do know that I told no one at that time. I did not want to cause any division or problems in our church.  Our minister’s wife was very sick.  I respected her very much.  I did not want to cause her any pain.  Also, this was a time when the one who was the victim was often blamed. After that happening, I avoided that minister as much as possible and made sure I was never alone with him.  It was later, when that minister had moved on, before I told my sister-in-law.  I asked her never to tell anyone, including my parents.  I do not believe she ever did. I did not tell my husband until a year ago. 

The next experience happened my sophomore year in college.  I had broken up with my boyfriend over summer.  After getting back to school, a senior had asked me out a few times.  He was going to go into the ministry after college.  He did not have much money, so we often sat in the lounge of the dorm and talked.  Other times, we had taken drives in the countryside getting acquainted with the area.  We had never kissed or even held hands.  We were both wanting to develop a friendship and were not ready for anything serious.  One early evening I got a phone call.  It sounded like this friend.  When he asked if I’d like to take a drive to get away from studies for a while, I said yes.  When there was a buzz which indicated he was there and had been okayed by the dorm mother, I went down to the lounge.  I did not see my friend and I was puzzled.  I was even more puzzled when a fellow I knew only vaguely came up and asked if I was ready to go.  I didn’t know what to say or do.  I did not want to go with him for several reasons.  I knew him to be acquainted with my friend, and I felt as though he had purposely tried and succeeded in making me think he was that friend; in addition, I did not feel we would have anything to talk about.  Still, I did not know how to handle the situation, so I kept quiet and went.  The whole thing was awkward.  When he drove to an isolated area and stopped, my heart went into my throat.  We sat and made attempts at a conversation for a few minutes.  My mind was in a whirl as I tried to think of ways to get out of this unwanted situation.  When he started moving toward me, my fear of what he had in mind became a reality.  I did not know what to do.  In my panic, I screamed out, “I saw someone over there.  I think he’s coming toward us.”  The fellow quickly moved back behind the wheel, turned on the lights, and seeing nothing asked me if I was sure I saw someone.  With fingers crossed –I knew what I was saying was not true — I answered yes and requested that I be returned to the dorm.  He hurriedly took me back, dropped me off at the door, I ran up to my room and thought that would be the end of it.  Again, I told no one, not even my roommate who was a good, good friend – one that is a friend to this very day.  About a week later, my roommate asked me if I felt some of our other friends were acting a little different, standoffish.  I had been noticing the same thing.  Also, the fellow with whom I had been developing a friendship had not called to invite me for a drive or a walk around campus which was unusual.  Several weeks passed, and it became obvious that we were being snubbed.  More time passed before the fiancé of my roommate found out that the fellow who had posed as someone I knew and liked had gone back and reported that he and I had been parked and I spotted someone in the darkness.  He said that he had taken me back to the dorm for my safety.  He gathered up a group of boys and they went back to the area to check it out but had found no one there.  He had accomplished what he wanted – getting others to think we were parked.  The one I had been developing a friendship with was hurt and others understood why he was.  I was the bad person.  There was no way to right the wrong.  The innocent had become the guilty.  The one with evil intentions achieved what he had set out to accomplish. It was just a year ago, that I, also, told this happening to my husband.  In this incident and the incident with the minister, I pushed the names of the perpetrators far back into my mind.  Hearing their names brings back unwanted memories. 

The next two ‘me, too’ experiences involved doctors:

I had gone in for an exam that involved the upper part of my body.  I had been told in advance that there was a new piece of equipment that they would be using in the exam.  When I arrived, I was asked if others might be present to see how the equipment worked.  It was explained to me that the observers would come into the room after I was in place and covered.  They would have their backs to me during the test and would not turn around until I was covered again.  I gave permission.  It seemed to be working as explained until just after the test had started and I was uncovered down just past my waist.  A tall doctor slipped into the room and stopped at the foot of the exam table.  I felt and saw his eyes on me.  I had been told it was important that I not move during the exam, so I could not pull the covers up to try to block his view. I knew it would be impossible to do so anyway because of his height.  He stood there, turned in my direction, until it was obvious that the exam was about finished.  He put his hand on my leg and mouthed, “You have beautiful b—–s,” turned and slipped out as quietly as he had slipped in.

I did not know what to do.  I felt violated and with good reason. I wanted to scream out and tell what had happened.  But no one had seen him except me.  I did not know his name and could not have described him except to say he was very tall.  I doubted that anything would have been done to him anyway.  Who was I compared to him,  a respected doctor?  If confronted, he would deny having done anything wrong.  I would have been questioned, “What exactly did he do?  Were you hurt?  Did he touch you in private areas?”  How would I explain the hurt and emotional harm caused to me at a time that I was still evaluating and reliving the experience?  I kept quiet; once again, becoming a ‘me, too’ victim with no voice. 

The final time, and I hope and pray that it is, indeed, the final time, happened with a gynecologist.  I had long been wary of him.  I had even discussed with other friends who were also his patients if they felt uncomfortable with him, especially where his hands wandered at times.  Several answered they did.  I gave serious thought to finding a different doctor, but I could find none within my network.

At my next routine exam, he said they had a new piece of equipment that he would like to try.  When he explained what it was for, I told him there was no need for it, since I had had a complete hysterectomy, performed by my previous doctor who had changed fields and was no longer in gynecology.  He argued that I ‘thought’ I had a complete hysterectomy, but I ‘probably hadn’t’ and needed this more thorough examination afforded by the new piece of equipment.  He scheduled the exam with the new equipment for the following week.  As soon as I got home, I found all the paperwork and explanation of the procedure for the hysterectomy.  As extra proof, I called the hospital records department and got an official copy showing that I had a complete hysterectomy.  I went to the exam armed with proof that what I had told him was true.  I told the nurse of my findings, but she said she had been directed to get me and the equipment ready for the exam. She followed the doctor’s directions.  When the doctor came in, I pointed to the papers I had placed on a nearby chair and asked him to review them.  I told him they documented that I had, indeed, had a complete hysterectomy, so there was no reason for the exam.  He scoffed at my suggestion and said that the proof he needed would be provided by the exam.  He proceeded.  It was an uncomfortable exam.  Often his hands were on the inside of my legs when I did not feel there was a need for them to be there.  The exam took longer than he had initially explained it would take.  When he finished his only comment was, “Well, you have had a complete hysterectomy!”  He then walked out of the room.

I told my husband.  To say we were both upset would be an understatement, especially for me who felt violated.  I called a friend to tell her about the incident and she said the same thing had recently happened to her.  I called another friend who had the same experience.  We three declared that was the end of going to him. We soon learned that the decision to quit him was guaranteed because he had dropped us.  The letter I received stated that he was moving his practice out of state.  He noted that he was keeping some of his patients, but I was not one of those patients.  My records, it said, had been turned over to a nurse practitioner.  The other two friends had identical letters to mine.  One friend, however, said her daughter’s records were retained by the doctor and he had told her he would be keeping her as a patient.  She had other plans though and dropped him.  A couple of years later, this doctor returned to our state.  Another friend who had her long-time gynecologist retire, called to ask about this gynecologist.  I told her of my experiences and the experiences of others.  Still, she felt she had no alternative so decided to go to him.  About a year later she told me she wished she had listened to me.  The doctor had made many errors in the way he had treated her.  She had to go to specialists in St. Louis. It took much agony and a long time to correct his mistakes.

It took going through these ‘me, too’ experiences personally to understand how victims often cannot fill in all the details.  This is especially true when it happens to young girls who do not know how to handle the situation or who are apt to be threatened should they tell anyone.  Each experience is unique, but the trauma is always there.  The victim may have pushed into the dark corners of the brain where it happened, who all was there, the name of the person or persons who committed the atrocious act or acts, or the circumstances while still knowing for certain – without a doubt — that it happened.  Not telling anyone about it is not unique, it is common.  Then when it is shared, it is with someone who is trusted.  That the trusted one told does not recall all, or any of the details later, is not unique either.  It is not embedded within the brain as it is in the brain of the victim.  They were not the ones who endured the abuse. 

To have the abuser plead innocence with the result being the one abused is abused once again is also not unique, it is the norm.  We have seen it happening, in recent years, with cases occupying the headlines.  Powerful men have ways of getting others to believe in their innocence. They make the victim seem to be a liar and do not allow others who know about or witnessed what happened to testify. God knows the truth.  There will come a time when the guilty will be judged by the one who knows all, sees all, hears all.   

More ‘me, too’ qualifiers:  

Other things happened that I feel are ‘me, too’ happenings.  I have witnessed acts of racism, of shutting out others ‘not like us,’ of being subjected to coercion and scare tactics by ones regarded as very religious, the very moral ones.  I have been the recipient of revengeful acts and felt the wrath of those who did not want to hear about injustices being done and did not want to hear suggestions made on how to make things better for the many instead of just a few.  This was especially concerning when that wrath was also directed at my family members.  I have witnessed jealous actions that resulted in harm being done to large numbers of innocents.  All the above experiences have helped me be understanding of how others react who are having the same kinds or similar experiences.  They have also helped me know that the guilty do not accept responsibility and will even try to make the innocent into the guilty and the guilty into the innocent.  They will use lies, threats, or revengeful acts to gain the silence they need to continue their wrongdoings. After experiencing these happenings, it might be thought that I would have hate in my heart toward the perpetrators.  I did not and do not.  I was sad for them and prayed for them to realize what they were doing so that they might change their hurtful ways.

Bosses, supervisors, and wealthy people of influence can force actions contrary to what those subject to them want or believe.  I have had supervisors who made it clear how my fellow work mates and I should vote on issues and on candidates for offices.  I also witnessed bosses who force those under them to bow to their ways or lose their jobs.  There are supervisors I’ve worked under who ‘stack the deck’ so to speak for certain ones and against others.  If someone dared speak against the unfairness, he/she was punished in ways that discouraged others from speaking up.  Reminder:  Taking wrathful revenge is a deadly sin. 

Bullies choose their subjects well.  They are relentless with their intimidations.  They usually do not act alone but have a small army of those who pledge undying support and back whatever the bully wants to accomplish. Bullies brag on themselves and their prowess while degrading others.  Even those who support them find themselves attacked if they say or do something that the bully perceives as a personal affront.  The follower can quickly be labeled an enemy.  Punishment follows whether it be through threats that the bully wants someone else to carry out, through alienation, through constant belittling and name calling, through actions that show that the bully is in control.  Bullies care for only themselves.  I say about bullies, “Ugly is as ugly does.” One way to stop a bully is to stand up to them.  When enough people take a positive stand, the bully will fail.

Leaders in government can be bullies.  They pass unfair laws that benefit themselves and those who think as they do.  Their ways to enforce their words and actions harm and hurt their intended victims.  You might have them call for an armed militia made up of volunteers, called Minutemen or Patriots, who can lawfully own firearms and will furnish these firearms and other weaponry to provide defense for the bully or bullies and their ways. Some call on other defense teams, such as, the state national guard, over whom they feel they have control.  The best option to get things turned in the right direction is for people to vote the bullies out of office never to be returned.

God wants those who build harmful walls — with their bullying, snubs, lies, rules, laws, secret meetings, threats, requirements, hate words, and messages — to know:  They might feel powerful for a while, but failure will come.  Again, the reminder that what is considered a win on earth might not be considered a win in Heaven.  In the end, it is the Heavenly wins and losses that count.  To gain that Heavenly win, you must play the game by the Heaven-given rules.  It does matter how you play the game while here on earth.

God wanted someone who knew the effects of divorce on children…

I saw the effects of divorce on three of my first cousins.  The husband of one aunt deserted his wife and son only to remarry and have another son.  The son married and had two boys before having his wife desert the family never to be seen or heard from again.  The aunt who had raised her son with the help of her father, stepped up to help raise her two grandsons.  The husband of another aunt had an alcohol addiction.  It destroyed their marriage.  At times when he was drinking heavily, he tried to force my aunt to take him back.  When he was sober, he had no interest in his two children – a son and a daughter.  My paternal grandfather was a positive influence on his grandchildren.  He provided a stable home for them.  My dad was a positive influence for them, also.  He encouraged them and helped them.  They were forever grateful.  It was the cousin whose father completely deserted them and his children whose mother had deserted them who had the hardest time.  It was support and guidance from family that helped them stay on the right path.  There are many children in similar situations who do not have that support.  (All who were involved in the above situations have long passed.  I would not have told of these happenings if they were still living.  I know it would have caused them pain.)

I was privy to knowledge of another instance of desertion.  This happened to a couple with three children.  The woman had an affair with a man who had no children and wanted nothing to do with children.  He did want to get married.  The woman had a choice to make, and she chose to leave her family and to give complete custody of the children to her husband.  The husband’s parents stepped up to help raise the children.  It is hard for children to grow up in any divorce situation. Having been deserted by a parent, whether by the mother or the father, is a devastating experience.  There are emotional scars that are carried throughout life as a result. 

Friends have divorced and I saw the effects on the children.  Divorces within church communities, within professional circles, within neighborhoods touch many lives negatively, but especially harmed are the children. 

Circles of women getting together under the guise of religious concerns over marriage began to come about in the early 90s.  These groups were often promoted by a religious organization with a church affiliation that claimed to be pro-family.  These women would spend hours together discussing the faults of their husbands.  Marriages of many of these women ended in divorce. I knew of some of the husbands and knew them to be left devastated and wiped out emotionally and financially.  As if leaving the husbands wondering what they could have done to prevent the dissolution of family wasn’t enough, it was more devastating to the husbands and children when the mother did all possible to turn the children against their father – even willing to sacrifice the mental health of the children to turn them against their father.  I only knew and can report on two of the fathers.  I knew them to be devoted to family, good providers, interested in the children and their activities.  They were misfortunate enough to marry women who were uncomfortable in their own skins and seemed to want everyone else to be miserable.  These women went on to show that they had difficulty in relationships.  They married again, one three times, and those marriages failed.  They had problems in relationships at work.  Their actions tore at the heartstrings of the husbands, children, parents/grandparents who were involved.  There was irreparable harm done to the children.  Note:  In several of the cases, in their late teen and early adult years, the children realized what the mothers had done and were able to repair and establish strong and lasting relationships with their fathers — who had waited patiently through the years for this to happen.  Reminder from God:  Your Heavenly Father is waiting patiently for his children to establish a strong relationship with him – better late than never.      

Warnings are given in Ecclesiastes 5: 4-6, in Deuteronomy 23: 21-23, in Numbers 30: 2 about making and breaking vows, oaths, allegiances, or pledges. James 5: 12 says plainly to let your word mean something – mean what you say and say what you mean, a yes is a yes and a no is a no; as individuals, always speak so that others may know that you are truthful.

Marriage involves taking a vow before God to love and honor until death do us part.  There are few Biblically accepted reasons for divorce.  First, note in Malachi 2: 16, “I hate divorce, ” says the Lord God.  Biblical guidance promotes forgiveness and reconciliation to solve the issues which led to the breakup of the marriage. 

Men are not without fault.  They, too, cause divorces, often because of adultery or desertion to escape responsibility of caring for family.  These have devastating results on the ones left behind.

Adultery is thought of as sexual activities with someone other than one’s mate.  That is certainly adultery, but there are other actions that qualify as adultery.  There is emotional adultery which does not involve sexual activity.  This emotional adultery happens when someone becomes attached to another person to the point that the spouse is left out of the picture.  This can be with a friend, or frequently, it is with a parent.  There are people who commit adultery with a parent when they are so emotionally dependent on the parent, or the parent on the child, that they cannot exist without one another.  Divorce for this reason is adultery.  If there is a refusal for counseling, reconciliation, or communication then the divorce cannot be justified biblically.  I have seen people who become so attached to an ideology and to the promoters of that ideology that they push God aside.  In other words, they divorce themselves from a relationship with God. These people no longer attend church – unless it is a church that supports political ideology — or if they do it is for show only – an effort to show how Christian they are.  That is adultery in the worst way possible.  They can be held by God to double indemnity as God defines it:  the perpetrator will be made to face twice the judgement for causing pain or death of ones they have harmed by their breaking of relationships, including — usually unknowingly because of their wrong thinking that they are the most religious, most moral — their relationship with God. 

Divorce causes hurt, disillusionment, financial pain, insecurity for the adults involved and robs children of love and security that comes with a functional family.  Divorce can cause emotional scars that never heal.  All involved in divorce may not function well in other areas of life – school, jobs, relationships.  This is especially true when one or both divorced people cannot or will not maintain open communication and cooperation with the other, even for the sake of the children. When one makes any exchange difficult, it is the children who are trapped in the middle and that is not good for the physical, mental, and emotional health of any involved.  Not being willing to reconcile differences even for the sake of the children, instead going to great lengths to turn the children against their ex is wrathful revenge.  Wrathful revenge is a deadly sin. Most often, in efforts to turn others against the mate, false witness is involved.  Matthew 15: 19 – 20 tells that out of the heart come evil intentions adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander.  Adultery, unfaithfulness, infidelity leads to divorce.  Theft, false witness, slander is often found to have been involved in divorces.  Think of how many of the 10 commandments are not followed.  I have witnessed the breaking of commandments in divorce cases.  My heart aches for all involved, especially the wronged mate and most especially for children.

Again, the Lord God says, “I hate divorce.”   He warms husbands not to be unfaithful to wives.  He would also warn wives not to be unfaithful to their husbands. 

Remember, to not reconcile differences or to not agree to counseling or refuse to communicate are examples of unfaithfulness.  When children are involved and one mate attempts to alienate the other parent with the telling of lies, that adds another dimension of sin.

God wanted someone who would recognize false leaders…

Mentioned above is the fact that The Sound of Music is ones of my favorite movies.

Let me qualify that a bit:  Sound of Music, at least the first half, is a favorite movie.  It is a part of the second half that fills my heart with fear and dread.  I well remember making a trip to a large city with my husband to see the movie for the first time on a big screen.  I was filled with euphoria at intermission — I almost danced with joy into the lobby to stretch — only to have that feeling of euphoria change to fear and dread during the second half of the movie.  

Because of the movie, I became interested in finding out how one person, especially a person filled with evil, could gain supreme power and control over a nation of people. Through the years, I have done a lot of reading about Hitler. The findings brought to me great sadness over harm and deaths caused by him and the ones who supported him, ones who had the same kind of evil in their hearts that he had:  hatred for others not looking or thinking ‘like them’ and for ones not bowing in idolatrous worship of the supreme leader.  His goal:  use any means necessary to get rid of the hated menaces who, in his opinion, were trying to destroy the culture, the world as he wanted it to be – a world where he was in complete control as the Supreme Leader.

I learned, from many sources through the years, how Hitler drew others into his spell:  Charismatic showmanship using crowd manipulation to his advantage, repeating lies without ceasing until they became believed truths, building a cult-like following by making those listening to him feel as though they were being mistreated or left out so needed to take up for themselves — even if it meant using violence — then saying he was the only one who could help them, finding people to attack as enemies — scapegoats who were assigned blame for the hardships — inspiring his followers to chant words of hate and use deadly actions against perceived enemies, knowing whom to appoint to key positions in order to get them to do the evil work he demanded of them, using catchy phrases and hate-filled rhetoric to turn those listening to him into angry mobs ready to cause harm to those who were objects of the venom spewed, using threats and encouraging violence, gaining control of the military and media favorable to him, being a leading voice extraordinaire in pushing his ideas and wishes, making his illegal and unlawful ways seem to be legal and constitutional while making the legal and constitutional ways seem illegal and unlawful, gaining control of military, media, getting rid of or taking wrathful revenge against anyone who tried to stand up to him, infiltrating then molding to his goals, gaining leadership of a whole political party that became Hitler’s party, a strong force on the far right.  Hitler’s Nazi Party would eventually – in large part, because moderate conservatives, without meaning to, gave him support at first thinking they would pull that support later with the result:  too few waking up and doing too little, too late, because of religious groups who were so busy trying to make their desired religious goals come to realization that they were not paying enough attention and too many had exchanged religion for ideology that they did not care enough about what was happening and felt they could escape harm if necessary, and by those on the left — who were labeled with hateful names and whose ideas and goals labeled as harmful to the people — not having enough numbers to have any power — come into complete power and control.  Warnings of what was happening were ignored.  Those opposing Hitler and Nazism did not reconcile their differences to unite against him and his evil forces.  Allegiance to Hitler was demanded and gained.  Not being satisfied with the power gained by control over a party, a country and its people, Hitler sought to gain power over other nations, thus, WWII.  The rest is a very ugly part of history. 

God sees what is happening today that is almost identical to what happened with Hitler:  Charismatic showmanship using crowd manipulation to advantage, repeating of lies until they become believed truths, building a cult-like following and support of those feeling mistreated or left out, saying I am the only one who can solve all the problems, chanting words of hate and getting supporters to repeat the chants against perceived enemies, encouraging violence, appointing people willing to bow to the master’s wishes, seeking control of military, also building up an army of heavily-armed Patriots willing to kill, if necessary, and using only favorable media to spread falsehoods, ignoring the constitution, taking wrathful revenge, infiltrating and taking over of an entire political party, seeking supreme control over a nation and eventually the world. The moderates of that party are waking up to finding they probably have done and are doing too little, too late, the religious who followed with the intentions of gaining their goals are now finding themselves being used and, otherwise, rendered helpless, and the opposition party has been falsely made into the enemy of the people as have any media outlets that tried to open the eyes of people to truth – in trying to be fair in coverage, they gave, and continue giving, too much time and attention to the side spreading lies, conspiracy theories, and messages that are dividing and conquering.  

God does not want history — where many souls were lost that might have been saved– repeated, do you?  God says to those who are similar to those who woke up too late to Hitler’s evil intentions — to those who were taken in by the webs of deceit, those who claimed religious gains only to realize the leader they had supported did not share their goals and had plans to destroy them (do not forget the death chambers), those who tried to denounce the evil happenings but could not succeed because they were too few in number and had become targets of evil’s venom, and to those who gave support to him even unto willingness to fight to the death –- “Wake up before it is too late.  Do not fall victim to the fear of being called ‘woke’ by the ones with evil intentions.  Follow my instructions – the only instructions that will lead you out of the darkness — to ‘wake up’ before it is too late.  The day is coming when you will find comfort in being ‘woke’.” 

Then God repeated what he had said in the ‘About the Team Leader’ entry to the blog, “Many of you put your trust and hopes on earthly beings who claim, “I am the only one who can help you.’ My disciple messenger calls them lower case ‘i ams’. They make promises which they know they can never deliver, but that matters not to them.  Delivery of help is not their goal, instead greed and desire for power are the sins which drive them.  These lower case ‘i ams’ are willing to do anything – lie, cheat, steal, betray, threaten, blame, even kill – to gain and retain power.  Know this:  They may be praised and followed for a while, but they will eventually fail.  Wait patiently and it will happen.”

Also, because of my interest in how Hitler rose to power and learning of his building a cult-like following, led me, in part, to learn about other cult leaders.  When Jim Jones claimed a connection to certain churches that were familiar to me, when I heard about Charles Manson and his followers, and, later, about David Koresh, I became interested in finding out about cult leaders and how they were alike or different from Hitler.  I found from study of them that even though they all had different ideologies, different driving forces, they held in common certain traits: manipulators, desired attention, performers, negative attitudes, some degree of racism, self-promoters, persuaders of others to do their bidding even when that work was evil, could talk others into serving them, revengeful – anything goes to help relieve their fears or grant their wishes even until murder, convinced others that they were the best at whatever they set their minds to do, braggers/boasters who thought more highly of themselves than they should have, leaned favorably toward extreme ideologies such as Nazism, could not sympathize let alone emphasize, inward turning-personalities –turned every situation into one about self,  demonstrated negativism, turned evil into good and good into evil, rewrote and interpreted rules to favor them and their goals – convinced followers that they were God sent, some even thought of themselves as Jesus, the Savior of the world, and managed to convince others of this designation.

While I knew there were those who could get relatively small numbers of people devoted to them in a cult-like manner, I always thought that there was no way, because of our checks and balances, that a takeover of a political party could happen in the United States.  Still, I kept a close watch and took an interest in politics and in the leaders of the United States.   The concerns that I took to the Lord in prayer in 2014, in part, came because I was witnessing the kinds of things being said and done that were eerily like words, actions and tactics used by Hitler and by his devoted followers.  I feared there would be someone with Hitler-like ambitions who would use the same tactics he and other cult leaders used to make himself a cult-like ‘supreme’ leader.   These fears have only increased as I have seen signs of cult-like leaders and followers being played out daily in public view.  I began recognizing false leaders in government, in community and county affairs, in families, in church – it seemed they were everywhere and had great power and were using it in ways harmful to many. 

Suggestion:  Review info under the heading God wanted someone who would recognize false leaders, to refresh yourself about the part on indifference by the moderate conservatives, by the religious – all thought they could stand up to Hitler if the time came that they needed to, and, in the meantime, they were intent on working toward their goals – and by the left, labeled the enemy who was the cause of all the troubles of the world, who did not have enough power to fight evil.  As of this writing, my concerns and fears are being justified.  Too little, too late may be the result of the slowness of the moderates and religious leaders to wake up to the harm being done.

Another favorite of mine is The Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  To see it in some form during the Advent season, has, for years, been a must.  It has helped, in part, develop in me what might be called a Pollyanna-like attitude of feeling there is hope for change for everyone, even those living in extreme darkness. God is our constant, the one on whom we can place complete trust and hope.  God has been steadfast in guiding and helping, as promised.  With concerns building daily just as they were in 2014, God is guiding still.  His intervention is our only hope.  Know this:  His intervention will not include lies, threats, harm, ugly words.  His intervention will be because of his great love for us and his desire to save souls.  It will include messages of truth, love, guidance, and even some messages of tough love.  It will be offered to everyone, no restrictions, no exceptions.  The purpose of the intervention is to help bring us out of the darkness into the Light.