Awake

So I had my surgery on Thursday morning around 10:15 AM; I don't remember much about it because I was put to sleep, per my request. I do know that I was still shaking because I was nervous about being put to sleep, but when they put the mask on with the oxygen and "laughing gas"I was very relaxed and at ease! I remember joking with the nurse and thinking to myself, "I probably can beat this and stay awake!" That was funny! The last thing I remember was the nurse placing some plastic thing in my mouth and holding up my chin. The next thing I remember was waking up to the dr over me and finishing up! I kept asking him what he was doing to me! (pretty funny!) I kept zoning in and out, and Josh even came back to help me and took a picture of me when I didn't know! I had an awful time walking to the car; it was such a weird feeling. I woke up in the parking lot of Weis Supermarket with the doors locked! Josh told me later that I was trying to get out of the car, and he was afraid I would get out and wander off! He asked the Pepsi vendor inside to keep a look out on me as he went and bought some foods I could eat! The rest of the day was kind of a blurr as I drifted in and out of sleep and kept changing the gauze in my mouth. The dr called me that night to see if I was doing ok. I was very impressed by that! As directed, I kept the ice-packs on my face all day, taking them off periodically. That really helped with the swelling and keeping the pain level down. Today, I woke up with a severe sore throat! My right back jaw hurt so badly, it was unreal! I immediately went and downed some pudding and took pain medicine! I am doing much better right now! The only thing is, I want to sleep and sleep, but I can't because I am here watching my kids while Josh is at work! God is my helper! I will make it through this with His help alone! I can't always depend on people for help as they are just human, but I can ALWAYS depend on my God for His help!

Should I Really Be Scared?

I sit here at my desk with a myriad of thoughts running through my mind, mostly of my upcoming surgery this Thursday morning. I don't believe in being afraid as a Christian, but as a human, I know that anxiety can soon set in if I don't do something about it. I know that fear isn't of God, and that HE did not give me this "spirit of fear." So many people have inserted their opinions of how I will be feeling after my teeth are pulled on Thursday, but I have come to this conclusion...I will not be afraid but instead I will ask God for courage and rely on Him to see me through the day. When I was 8 years old, I became very ill. I was sent to the hospital for blood tests, and after the results came in, I was soon admitted into the hospital for observation and more tests. I remember being very afraid, but my dad had me kneel down beside the couch next to him and ask God for courage. I did that, and relief washed over me as I knew God was with me. That has stuck in my mind all of these years, and as I go into the oral surgeon's office on Thursday morning, I will walk in with courage for God will be with me. So the answer to my question is simple... "God hath not given me the spirit of fear but of power and of love and of a sound mind."

Wait on the Lord

Sometimes we have been praying for something for a long time, and we tend to think that it will be anwered in the moment. In reality, sometimes, it will take longer than anticipated. There is a prayer I would love to be answered at this very instant, but I know in my heart it may not even be answered this year. Sometimes, my heart is heavy, but I am reminded of the verse, "But they that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint." (Isaiah 40:31) So, yet again, I return to my continual prayer on this subject and simply wait on the Lord. That's all I can do at this point.Thank you, Jesus!

It's a SLOW Fade

Things just don't fall apart in a day; somehow through time, they began to erode and fall apart piece by piece. If you think you woke up one morning and your life was suddenly a disaster, you are wrong. It took time...it didn't take seconds...it started out small, and then through time, things began to crash around you. This is what happened to me 4 years ago. I had to learn the hard way. This is a memory that hurts me to the core, but I believe that I can now testify that I learned and can go on. I believe that someone out there can learn from me and my mistakes. So, this is my story, my testimony of God's grace.
When I was married, I moved into a trailer that my husband had purchased before we married. I had no say in the matter which at the time didn't bother me; looking back, I would've said no to dissolve any future hurt. Hind-sight is always 20/20 though. He was working a really good job in Aberdeen, MD, and I was to be working, teaching at the church's school. I have to say I learned a lot that year. I loved teaching the few kids I had. I just enjoyed everything about the job; it confirmed that I was born to be a teacher whether in a school or just to my kids. I was married in August of 2003, but by January of 2004, Josh had lost his job. He was actually told to quit or he would be fired. It all had to do with him calling off work due to being sick and such. Let's just say that we were so immature during that year. When I married him, I was so stupid! I thought that it was all about me, and boy was I wrong. I'd get so furious when he'd sit and play video games, and the majority of our arguments had to do with that or his family which I was sure hated me. As soon as I married him, they changed into the "monster in-laws" not the sweet people who loved me when I was dating him. Looking back, I see they were going through their own set of problems with their church, and were just taking it out on everyone around them. We have a great relationship today.
I found out I was pregnant in March of 2004, and this without a stable job for Josh, I was scared to death. I didn't have my mom their with me to teach me what I was going through. I asked questions, but I was so beside myself without my mom, it was unreal. I ate and ate and realized that that caused all of my problems including the gestational diabetes and anemia. Along with the family turmoil, I was 9 months pregnant with my Charity when the bank foreclosed on our trailer. Let's just say, I was the bitterest at God that I've ever felt in my whole entire life! Instead of encouragement to get back on our feet, Josh's family treated us as if we had the plague. How dare we bring a child into this world without stability! Like it was our fault in that matter. God knew what He was doing through this all. We had many lessons to be learned, and we learned them...the hard way. I thought my parents would want to kill Josh, but I was overwhelmed when they were very supportive and understanding. They knew we were immature, and had to learn some life lessons.
Josh went through one temporary job after another. He would finish one and then get another one, but soon those began to fade. God didn't want us in that area anymore, and we knew it. Yet, we fought hard because we didn't know what to do or where to go. We moved in with his parents, a major mistake by the way. I had Charity at the end of October 2004, and I loved her so much. I didn't think life could be any worse, yet God had given me a gift, a joy to my heart showing me His love...I named her Charity Joy. After 15 1/2 hours of intense labor, her vitals were dropping drastically, and they rushed me in for an emergency C-section. She was born at 1:24 pm on October 26 weighing 6 lbs. and 8 oz. I fell asleep holding her close to me.
Through all of this, Josh's dad told him to call a dear friend, Dr. Owens. He did, and we were invited to come and talk to him one weekend. We came that weekend with the hope of starting over somewhere no one knew us except him and his family. We were given that olive branch of hope, and we took it. So, we took the next three months to find a place. It came down to having to leave immediately because a certain member in the church was feeding my in laws lies about me and Josh. We were threatened to have our baby removed, and in the end, we said some nasty words, took Charity one Friday night and fled to safety. I still remember that night. Charity had not been sleeping through the night at all, and our car had been broken down. We got in the car, and drove with no problem as far as Fredrick, MD. We checked into a hotel. I remember Charity slept all night for the first time as I tossed and turned in fear. Josh had a shotgun with him. We had no idea what to do. My parents came and got me the next morning and took me with them as Josh went back to tie everything up.
Lies began to spread around the church that I was going to divorce Josh and that I left him. It was all wrong and hurtful. Yes, through this all, I was holding anger in my heart towards him. On February 18, 2005, we moved into an apartment in Martinsburg, WV. We were told not to talk to anyone from that church let alone contact them again. How hurtful to Josh to be banned by his own family. How insane and happy we were moving to downtown Martinsburg! It was a one bedroom apartment, actually a huge house divided up into two apartments. I loved it. It wasn't the best living conditions, but I have to say, I never felt so at home as I did.
I couldn't believe the love that was poured over us from our new church. I was so hurt that it took me a while to heal. I sat in every church service and just wept. I didn't trust a soul. I walked around with pain in my eyes, and I must have seemed like I was mad at the world, but I didn't know who to trust or if I ever should again. We went into marriage and life counselling for the next several months with our pastor, Dr. Jeff Owens. He loved us unconditionally. It didn't matter what we had done or experienced. He taught me how to love my husband. He taught my husband how to love me, how to not be so bitter. And soon layer after layer of pain and hurt began to fall away. In two week, it will be 4 years since we moved here. We had our baby boy here...our lives are here for now. I can't imagine how my life would've turned out without my God. I was so ready to give up on the Christian life altogether. I realized that family will not always be there for me. Not everyone is as privileged to have a family like mine, loving and understanding.
Don't misunderstand me now; I am now building a relationship with Josh's parents. They are not bad people. We were all broken at the time. Broken people say and do things that are not them. I believe the devil was trying to destroy a pastor and his family. He was using people like that one family to tear us all apart. Lies were spread and believed. It was all Satanic. I know now I have power over Satan the world with the WORD of GOD. THANK YOU, JESUS!

The Day You Were Born

Joanna Kay Wetzl, my best friend, my only sister, was born on March 20, 1985, and I remember it as if it was yesterday. I played by myself for so long, and I wanted desperately to have a play-mate! I remember the day my mom went into labor. I was playing in my room, and I heard her crying and talking on the phone. I went in her room, and climbed up on the bed asking her what was wrong. She told me that her back her very badly and that I needed to go and play. That evening, my dad dropped me off at our friends, the Walkers, house, and he drove off with my mom. I simply thought I was staying for a couple of hours, and when Mrs. Walker told me it was time for bed, I was confused! She explained to me that my mom was going to have a baby that night. Of course, my mind was not understanding that part because I thought maybe she would be having any color baby! :-) I really wanted a brown baby or an Indian baby! I laugh now, looking back at that thought! Anyway, I was getting over the croup, and that night was like a nightmare! I not only had a hard time breathing, but I missed my mommy terribly and my bed. I remember Mrs. Walker staying up with me most of the night, putting my head to the window and telling me to breathe, taking me in the bathroom with the hot shower running, just rubbing my back and telling me to just breathe. The next morning, I was so tired but excited when my mom called to tell me that I had a new sister! I then asked if she was an Indian baby or if she was brown. My mom laughed and said, "No, honey! She looks like you!"
The next couple of days were kind of a blurr in my mind, but I remember the day we we to go to the hospital to pick up my mommy and sister. I was beside myself with excitement! The hospital was a scary place for me, and I remember being terrified as my dad and I walked through the hallways towards my mom's room. I walked in the room, and for some reason, I thought Joanna would be my size! Mom had told me that she looked like me! :-) Instead, this little baby was laying on her stomach in this glass bed with her thumb in her mouth! I walked up to her and said, "Get up, Joanna! I'm here! Let's play!" My mom explained to me that she didn't know any better, and that she wasn't big enough yet. I was disappointed, but I was still excited about her being "mine." The nurse wheeled my mom and Joanna out in a wheelchair, and I walked beside them very proud.
I don't remember the exact day Joanna played with me, but I remember the first thing we played! We played Snoopy's! We had a bunch of Snoopy's and would play for hours with them! That may be why our love for Snoopy still reigns today! :-) She proved to be the girl who taught me to expand my imagination, and we did everything together over our next 14 years together! I look back at pictures of us and see her looking at me copying everything I did. I had no idea at the time, but she adored me and I was her "idol." I can tell story after story of things we did together throughout our times together! I will eventually have them all penned down, but this is about her and when she came into my life. She is still my best girlfriend, and I wouldn't trade her for any other sister! I'll never forget the day she was born.

My Thoughts Exactly

So, I sit here at my desk, and I begin to think a bunch of thoughts. I know from experience that many times, I feel the need to write, yet a whirlwind of thoughts is flying out of control inside of my head. I don't know why I am like this, but I do know that I was born to write. I am unsure as to where to start; so, I will begin where I know best - my life. I have a myriad of memories to tell the world, but especially, I want my children and grandchildren to read and remember my life. I believe it is the job of the parent to hand down to the child and grandchild the legacy of their being, their existence.
I start with a very special memory, dear to my heart. It all was around my 7th birthday, and it is my salvation experience. I have memories of being a talkative little girl. I loved to talk ALL of the time, and many many days this would get me in trouble in school. I was in 1st grade, and I had not caught onto the concept that I was to stay in my desk and do my seat-work and not worry what my friends were doing. My famous thing to do was get up out of my seat when the teacher left the room and visit my various friends around the room. No matter how many times my kite was put on the board or I lost my recess, I still didn't get it. Along with these things, my teacher, Miss Hill, would write a letter in my steno pad to show my parents. I think I would have caught on had I given those notes to my dad and mom! They definitely would have made sure that I realized that this was unacceptable behaviour! The only drawback was, I knew the rule in our household, and that was if I was in trouble in school, I certainly would be reminded of that punishment on my seat of understanding. You can relate to a 7 year old girl as she would be terrified to receive such action! :-) I would simply tear out the note in my steno pad and re-write my homework. Then, as smart as my mind was at the time, I would stuff the note,which soon became notes, into the back of my closet!
We car-pooled with a bunch of kids in my church, and this certain teen boy saw me tearing out the note one day on the way home from school. He took it upon himself to tell my mom as it was her turn to drive that afternoon. I knew as soon as she looked in that rear-view mirror that I was in DEEP trouble when I got home. I used to BEG her not to tell my dad! I could kind of handle her punishment, but my dad disciplined a little more and boy, did it hurt! :-) I remember being confused that afternoon when my dad knocked on my bedroom door and he just had his Bible. Granted, I was a little relieved, but it was kind of confusing. He sat down on my bed, and with tears in his eyes, he asked me if I knew that I would go to Heaven one day. I immediately said, "Oh, yes, Daddy! I know that I'm going!" He then responded with a, "Tell me how you know." I was sure I had the right answer when I simply said, "Because we go to church and you are a deacon and you and mommy are going; so I'm going!" I smiled because I really thought I was smart. He then told me that he knew what I had been doing. He asked me if I thought I did wrong. I bowed my head and shook my head knowing in my heart that he was disappointed. I knew I was doing wrong, but I simply did not care. He pointed out to me that I had been doing an awful lot of lying lately. He then asked me to read the verse in the Bible, Revelation 21:8, "But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death." I read that verse, and then it occurred to me that I was a liar. My dad didn't tell me that I was. I believe the Holy Spirit made me aware of the problem. I remember my dad going through several verses and having me to read each and every one of them. He explained thoroughly how God loved me and He didn't want me to go to a place called HELL. It was topped off when my dad showed me a picture of a fire, and he then explained to me what HELL was like. I had a wild imagination, and I knew in my heart that I didn't want to go to that place. I don't believe my dad was trying to scare me into Heaven; he just came down to my level showing me visuals. I remember him showing me the Wordless Book as well and explaining it to me. Yes, I had sung that song many times in Sunday School, but I never before thought it referred to me. I knelt beside my bed, and my dad told me to ask Jesus to come into my heart. I don't recall the exact words I spoke that afternoon, but I remember simply asking Jesus to come into my heart and save me and take me to HEAVEN when I died. I remember saying that I didn't want to go to HELL but I wanted to go to HEAVEN. Just as simple as a child can, I prayed my own little prayer that day. I remember standing up, and I don't believe that feelings show that you are a Christian, but I had feelings that day. I remember feeling like I was walking on a cloud as I went into the other room and told my mom. She hugged me tightly, and I remember sitting down to dinner just feeling as if I was on top of the world. My dad tells me to this day that he remembers my countenance changing, and soon after, I began getting the concept of obeying and telling the truth. No, I didn't change overnight, but as a 7 year old can, I changed throughout the course of the year. By the time I was in 3rd grade, I remember receiving a CHARACTER award for having great character. I began to really buckle down and want to learn. I remember being hungry for learning. You may think this is silly, but I believe in my heart that I did change that day. I may not have lived a life full of sin, dropped to my knees at an altar and ask for forgiveness, but I still was a sinner like anyone else.
I want everyone to know that growing up in a Christian home didn't stop me from experiencing life. We can get to a point where we shield our children way too much, then they go out in the world and stumble and fall flat on their faces. We scratch our heads and wonder what happened. Alot of children who grow up in a Christian home really think they are saved, but in the end, they were "riding on their parents coat-tails." They grow up and wonder why life isn't working out for them, and in the end, they really aren't saved. Oh, they may give a testimony of "being saved at the age of 4 or 5" but some of the time, they are reciting what they learned all of their life. I know for sure that I was saved that day. My dad would tell you that he prayed with me when I was 5, but my mind has no memory of that. I believe him, but I am forever grateful that he took the time to listen to the Holy Spirit's prompting to just talk to me again at that time. That day is ingrained in my memory forever. I will tell you that I doubted my salvation a few times throughout my teen years, but that's another story for another time. I always look back at December 7, 1987, as the day I invited Jesus into my heart. And there's my heart, my greatest story.