Believe it or not, I actually know quite a bit about the human brain. After all, I've lived with one in my head for 54 years (counting my fetal life). In addition to that, I've been a BodyTalk practitioner for 4 years now and have watched BodyTalk repair the damage that shingles did to my brain 5 years ago. I've studied the human brain in all of my classes and am in awe of it's healing capacities. Each week I watch others heal as their brain gets in touch with what's going on in their bodies--totally miraculous things are happening!
Recently, my dear friend and BodyTalk practitioner Elizabeth, sent me a gift of a book called, "Instinct Based Medicine." Being I'm not feeling the best these days (lots of stress with my family of origin; the weather affecting seeding; Prairie Days this coming weekend, but mostly with lining up our radinoics class at the end of the month), I've been resting more and I've taken the time to dig into the meat of this new method.
The first half of the book was not all that informative as I am well aware of how dreadful the results are of the modern American medical system. Dr. Coldwell calls it the medical mafia and he hits hard at their greedy tactics which kill and cripple many people every year. Still, it was good to get some of these statistics although, I must admit, I wish that Dr. Coldwell had asked me to edit his book for him. It's not the best writing in the world but he does get his point across.
Anyway, I'll be honest and say that I skipped the second half of the first part which he has written to show people that they need to do their very best to stay away from doctors. This morning I jumped to the second half of the book so that I could get an idea what his system entails. This is where I learned some very interesting things about the human brain.
Now, keep in mind that I just recently became a BETAR (betar.com) dealer with KRT. I am absolutely in love with my sleep unit (delta waves) as I FINALLY sleep like a log after 5 decades of not sleeping well. I also love my relax unit (alpha waves) and it helped to keep me calm all those long days of driving tractor this Spring. I use it in the kitchen to try to keep calm as I frantically put a meal together in 10 minutes and I have been using it in my office up until this point.
I found it absolutely fascinating, when I read on page 244 of INSTINCT BASED MEDICINE, this information about the human brain. First Dr. Coldwell explains why he is adamantly opposed to hypnotism. He says "the obvious manipulation through hypnotism can make you do the exact opposite of what you intend or it can make you dependent, schizophrenic, and can cause lack of self-esteem."
Dr. Coldwell further goes on to explain this fascinating information about our brains.
To achieve a lasting change in the nervous system, your brain needs to switch frequencies in a very specific order. In other words, your brain needs to move between frequencies delta (0-2MHz), theta (3-6MHz), alpha (7-133 MGz) and beta (14-30 MHz) in a specific sequence.
When in an alpha state, there is no way to make a conscious decision; you have to switch to beta at exactly the right time when you are making a decision to change a behavior otherwise it cannot be effective over the long term. Then you have to switch into lower states in the right frequency to build dendrites (new microchips) in your brain for effective long term results. This is the natural way of brain function. It is only when you use the natural way, that we are intended to function, that you can achieve healthy and long term results.
The only system I know to continuously produce lasting results over and over is the IBMS programs. This is due to the combination of the specially created music along with the newest technology of brain function, working together to effortlessly help create the exact state of mind required to produce lasting results.
THE IBMS USES THE DECODED LANGUAGE OF THE BRAIN TO PRODUCE OPTIMUM RESULTS.
Honestly, the perfectionist in me was really screaming here as I have always been so proud of myself for not jumping ahead in books. However, I got to thinking, "Oh, there's music mentioned so there MUST be a CD involved here somewhere."
I made another leap forward in the book and found the site address which is: instinctbasedmedicine.com.
Did I mention that Dr. Coldwell saved over 35,000 lives which the modern medical system had termed, "Hopeless?" One of these was his mother and she wrote the introduction to the book which was just wonderful! She told about how her son at age 16 was driven to study every natural approach to healing when she was given 2 years to live as she had liver cancer. She's now in her 70s; is his receptionist; and signed her story with, "Mama Coldwell."
Well, Andrew just asked me to go do some writing on our farm's website so I suppose I ought to finish this up. Basically, I went to Dr. Coldwell's website; studied their list of DVDs; and was thrilled to find that Dr. Coldwell has put his system into a format for Christians to be blessed with. It says that he asked many pastors to guide him and, of course, I felt led to buy it. Here's the link if you are feeling the nudge to check it out for yourself: https://shop.instinctbasedmedicinestore.com/checkoutpayment-submit.sc
I praise God for HE knows all of our needs! He knows how we are made and he knows how to help us to get well. I felt totally blessed reading Dr. Coldwell's book as he has such a deep respect for the human body. He said over and over that WE CAN HEAL OURSELVES if we only know how. He reiterated a basic BodyTalk principle which is that we have an innate wisdom which has kept us alive to this point and which knows exactly what is needed to get well AND stay well! That's what I 'm interested in learning.
In other words, being healthy IS our natural state. It's only stress which weakens the links in the body/mind. Dr. Coldwell says that 85% of our health problems are because of emotional and mental stress and only 15% due to poor diet; lack of exercise........ This means that even the natural health world is barking up the wrong tree if they fail to deal with the affects of stress on us. This helps me to understand why BodyTalk is able to do so many miracles--it helps to relieve old stresses. Of course, like Melanie says, "I want as many tools in my toolbox as possible," so I know that I will be a life-long learner of God's wonderful healing ways!
I'll let you know how this affects my health when it comes. In the meantime, I urge you to go to the website and read about the doctor who is Europe's foremost alternative doctor with more degrees than Carter has pills. Dr. Coldwell REALLY knows his stuff and has been helping people to get well since he was 16 years old--what a remarkable man!
I will pray that God will open hearts through this post and that many will get the help that they're needing to get well AND stay well!
Yours for abundant life,
Dawn
PS. If you are needing any organic wheat or flax, please feel free to visit our family's website at: www.seedsofhonor.com We named our farm, "Seeds of Honor" as we believe the organic seed to be honorable in God's eyes.
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Monday, December 27, 2010
Happiest birthday yet!
What an amazing birthday I had this year! For those of you who don't me, I will say that I turned 53 years old on December 25, 2010.
I used to hold to the principle, "A woman who will tell her age will tell ANYTHING!" Then, at age 48, I lay on my deathbed and now I praise God that He saved me from an early grave. I am HAPPY to say that I am alive and well and, as I age, I will rejoice more every year that He spared my life. Besides, age is a matter of thinking and each day I'm thinking younger and younger since I'm shedding the old self-destroying habits that made me feel old even in my 20's.
So here I am on the last day of age 52. Robert had gone to town that morning and I was pretty sure that it was, at least in part, to get me a birthday present, as this has happened before. When he got home, he was empty handed but I know better than to ask questions. When I got out of the bathroom, I was surprised to have this picture snapped of me as I entered the dining room right before lunch.....
but then I saw this in the center of the table. PRETTY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD TOO!!!!!!!!!!!
The only sad thing about that day is that Cora had to go to work. She just couldn't find anyone to work for her on Christmas Eve--aren't you surprised? This is what our Sabbath table looked like with one place setting missing. ):
Robert had bought 3 bottles of bubbly at Sam's to celebrate my birthday. We decided to crack one open, even though Cora was at work, as there were still 2 left for my birthday. This is apple juice with FIZZ. Ask Jacob how he liked a great, big swig of this. :)
Robert breaking the seal before the feast of Sabbath.
Now this is Christmas day with our sweet Cora at home with us. I'm not sure if I've shared why we don't celebrate Christmas anymore, but we are all happy that we have a birthday in the family to celebrate instead. These are the precious people who made this my happiest birthday yet. I'm not sure why Andrew was making such a goofy face, but he makes me chuckle many a time with his comic expressions.
Here I am in my new birthday dress. I have avoided red clothing for years (a long story) but I sure felt special in it this day.
We decided that whomever gave me a gift would come and sit by me and tell me all about it. Cora bought me a new piano solo book by someone she has admired for a long time. Lorie Line arranges hymns and patriotic songs in the most lovely fashion and then plays them on the piano with such heart that it is impossible not to sigh with delight--but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Lady was not at all interested in what was going on--she was just happy to be inside on such a cold day!
Jacob was next. When he gave me this package perfectly wrapped with a kittie on the front, I couldn't help but wonder out loud. "So Jacob, is this Mylo?"
What do you suppose he is thinking?
Yes, Andrew came next with a gift to help my office in Bismarck run more smoothly. He bought me a brand new microphone and a mini hub. After a translation from our resident TECH-SPERT, I got excited. 
Once I understood Andrew's gift, I was VERY grateful. He must be getting older as he didn't even mind my motherly love and Cora got it on film.
Then Jacob came back again and, by his smirk I was almost positive that this package WAS Mylo Hatzenbuhler in CD format. YUP--I now own, I'M BIG-TIME NOW!!! Oh my, who could ever forget, "Born at the PCA," or "The Ballad of New Salem," or "In the Coop," or "Send in the Cows......" Who could ever be depressed with Mylo and Emma in this world?
Who is happier?
Then it was my sweetie's turn to sit in the hot spot.
In the box I found these old dishes. Jacob and I both dug through the box again and carefully inspected the stuffing for clues, but this is all there was. Three old dishes but then we found that big metal thing on the bottom of the plate and had to wonder if that wasn't part of the clue. 
and HERE is one happy wife!!!!!!!!!
Robert explained that he has been observing my life getting more busy as my business expands. Also Cora is working at the nursing home 3 days a week so that takes both women away from the kitchen sink. 
#2--Me with the most intriguing gift that I've ever received. Cora gave these to me for an office warming present. They're hand made somethings from India and I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do with them. Someone suggested buying a huge, clear bowl and putting them in (these are about half of them). Someone suggested stringing them together and hanging them on the wall. Someone suggested stringing each one individually from pretty ribbons and suspending them from the ceiling. Someone suggested putting them over a fan and blowing them in a case so that people can be entertained as they wait for their turn for a session. WHAT WILL I DO WITH THESE? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
#3 Me in my mother's chair that I bought at dad's auction.
#4--Me in front of my piano and the book which I gave Robert for our 30th wedding anniversary called, THE STATION--A REMINDER TO CHERISH THE JOURNEY! You are all welcome to come over and read it as it is a phenomenal reminder that life is PRECIOUS!
#5--Me in front of the little Winter display that Cora made to spruce up the place.
There were many more but these were the only ones that I had considered for this post. Please feel free to let me know if you think any of these would make a good impression on my new bio page on the IBA website.
I used to hold to the principle, "A woman who will tell her age will tell ANYTHING!" Then, at age 48, I lay on my deathbed and now I praise God that He saved me from an early grave. I am HAPPY to say that I am alive and well and, as I age, I will rejoice more every year that He spared my life. Besides, age is a matter of thinking and each day I'm thinking younger and younger since I'm shedding the old self-destroying habits that made me feel old even in my 20's.
So here I am on the last day of age 52. Robert had gone to town that morning and I was pretty sure that it was, at least in part, to get me a birthday present, as this has happened before. When he got home, he was empty handed but I know better than to ask questions. When I got out of the bathroom, I was surprised to have this picture snapped of me as I entered the dining room right before lunch.....
but then I saw this in the center of the table. PRETTY AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD TOO!!!!!!!!!!!
The only sad thing about that day is that Cora had to go to work. She just couldn't find anyone to work for her on Christmas Eve--aren't you surprised? This is what our Sabbath table looked like with one place setting missing. ):
Robert had bought 3 bottles of bubbly at Sam's to celebrate my birthday. We decided to crack one open, even though Cora was at work, as there were still 2 left for my birthday. This is apple juice with FIZZ. Ask Jacob how he liked a great, big swig of this. :)
Robert breaking the seal before the feast of Sabbath.
Now this is Christmas day with our sweet Cora at home with us. I'm not sure if I've shared why we don't celebrate Christmas anymore, but we are all happy that we have a birthday in the family to celebrate instead. These are the precious people who made this my happiest birthday yet. I'm not sure why Andrew was making such a goofy face, but he makes me chuckle many a time with his comic expressions.
Here I am in my new birthday dress. I have avoided red clothing for years (a long story) but I sure felt special in it this day.
We decided that whomever gave me a gift would come and sit by me and tell me all about it. Cora bought me a new piano solo book by someone she has admired for a long time. Lorie Line arranges hymns and patriotic songs in the most lovely fashion and then plays them on the piano with such heart that it is impossible not to sigh with delight--but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here Cora was giving me the piano solo book, THE HERITAGE COLLECTION II by Lorie Line.
It is full of WONDERFUL arrangements which, I might add, we have both enjoyed already. :) Thank you, Cora dear!
Lady was not at all interested in what was going on--she was just happy to be inside on such a cold day!
Jacob was next. When he gave me this package perfectly wrapped with a kittie on the front, I couldn't help but wonder out loud. "So Jacob, is this Mylo?"
He hesitated but said, "No." Then after I opened it he burst out laughing, "It's Clyde Bauman."
It was Mr. Bauman's brand new serious CD called PRAIRIE MEMORIES which I have been pondering buying. It is JUST WONDERFUL--such a special tribute to life in North Dakota! Thank you, Jacob!
What do you suppose he is thinking?
Yes, Andrew came next with a gift to help my office in Bismarck run more smoothly. He bought me a brand new microphone and a mini hub. After a translation from our resident TECH-SPERT, I got excited.
You see, although I've been enjoying recording my sessions on my iPod here at home, Robert
could see that it would be much more simple if I give the session report to my clients before they leave my office. Then when the session is finished, it's finished, and I don't have to think about it all the way home.
could see that it would be much more simple if I give the session report to my clients before they leave my office. Then when the session is finished, it's finished, and I don't have to think about it all the way home.
Andrew set to work to make it happen. He found a place where I can buy bulk MP3 players at a very reasonable rate. This plan is very simple if one has the equipment and now I do thanks to Andrew! God bless you, son, for bringing me up to date with technology. Although I really only enjoy it for how it blesses people's lives, if it weren't for you, I'd not even know what tools are out there to make that possible.
Once I understood Andrew's gift, I was VERY grateful. He must be getting older as he didn't even mind my motherly love and Cora got it on film.
Then Jacob came back again and, by his smirk I was almost positive that this package WAS Mylo Hatzenbuhler in CD format. YUP--I now own, I'M BIG-TIME NOW!!! Oh my, who could ever forget, "Born at the PCA," or "The Ballad of New Salem," or "In the Coop," or "Send in the Cows......" Who could ever be depressed with Mylo and Emma in this world?
After that Cora came back over to me with this very large box! I had thought it was from Robert earlier in the week when she had set out all of the birthday presents. However, when she wrote her name on it so I knew it was from her. What could she have gotten me that was THAT big, I had wondered for several days before this. What indeed!
It was 5 of Lorie Line's CDs from her heritage collection. Look how my clever daughter packaged them all. That foam strip had protected my SunSplash when it came from Dr. Mercola. All she did was cut slits into it and slid the CDs into the slits and put them in a big box. WOW!
Who is happier?
Then it was my sweetie's turn to sit in the hot spot.
In the box I found these old dishes. Jacob and I both dug through the box again and carefully inspected the stuffing for clues, but this is all there was. Three old dishes but then we found that big metal thing on the bottom of the plate and had to wonder if that wasn't part of the clue.
Cora was splitting a seam, trying not to give away the secret, when the phone rang. It was a favorite aunt who called to wish me a happy birthday. I visited with her while the boys figured it out in the living room and large sighs were heard from them. I tuned them out and enjoyed my phone call but returned to the living room VERY curious.
I don't know why but I kept thinking that the metal ring was a gasket. All of a sudden, when I picked it up, it ran through my mind that it was a washer. I looked at Robert and said, "Dishes and a washer." Then it clicked and I asked him, "A dishwasher?"
Not wishing to seem presumptuous, Jacob and I went and looked in our old dishwasher which hasn't been in working order for almost a year. Now THAT was the only unpleasant part of my birthday. YUK!
Finding nothing there, I picked up my courage and asked Robert, "Are you getting me a new dishwasher?" He smiled and said, "YES." Here are my clues....
and HERE is one happy wife!!!!!!!!!
Robert explained that he has been observing my life getting more busy as my business expands. Also Cora is working at the nursing home 3 days a week so that takes both women away from the kitchen sink.
"I don't have it picked out yet," but I want you to know that I think it's time that we get a dishwasher again." I couldn't agree more!!!
Tomorrow they will look while I'm with my clients in Bismarck so that is VERY exciting. I'm never been all that excited about comparing features so I'm going to let my men-folk do that for me. Whichever one that they pick will be just perfect!
After that I asked Cora to take some pictures of me while I was all dressed up. I've been wanting to take a new picture of myself. Since I am now a practicing member of the International BodyTalk Association (meaning that I have a BT practice working with the public), I can put my picture and story on the IBA website.
These are the photos that my daughter took of me on my 53rd birthday. Perhaps I should ask you all to share which one you would pick. Go ahead, cast your vote by leaving me a comment. I'll number them for your convenience. This is just spur of the moment but it should be fun to get every one's opinion.
#1--Me with the birthday centerpiece that Robert gave to me.
#2--Me with the most intriguing gift that I've ever received. Cora gave these to me for an office warming present. They're hand made somethings from India and I'm not sure yet what I'm going to do with them. Someone suggested buying a huge, clear bowl and putting them in (these are about half of them). Someone suggested stringing them together and hanging them on the wall. Someone suggested stringing each one individually from pretty ribbons and suspending them from the ceiling. Someone suggested putting them over a fan and blowing them in a case so that people can be entertained as they wait for their turn for a session. WHAT WILL I DO WITH THESE? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
#3 Me in my mother's chair that I bought at dad's auction.
#4--Me in front of my piano and the book which I gave Robert for our 30th wedding anniversary called, THE STATION--A REMINDER TO CHERISH THE JOURNEY! You are all welcome to come over and read it as it is a phenomenal reminder that life is PRECIOUS!
#5--Me in front of the little Winter display that Cora made to spruce up the place.
There were many more but these were the only ones that I had considered for this post. Please feel free to let me know if you think any of these would make a good impression on my new bio page on the IBA website.
Well, that was almost all of my delights that I experienced on my birthday--almost but not quite. How can I help but cry tears of joy now as I recall the phone call that I got that morning from my brother, Russell.
I'm sure that many of you can grasp what this meant to me. For the others I will simply say that my brother has NEVER done anything to acknowledge my birthday before. Well, we had just sat down for a breakfast of nice warm oatmeal with apples cut into it--just the way I like it best. Thank you Cora!
The timing wasn't the best, but when my brother started singing, "Happy birthday to you..." I didn't mind missing my birthday breakfast, as you might imagine. We talked for about half an hour and, for the first time in my life, it didn't matter that my dad doesn't love me.
You see, Russell and I decided a while back that we would be unloved children together. Somehow it doesn't matter so much now that I'm not alone. Of course my dad did nothing for my birthday, but it didn't matter. He's emotionally retarded and one mustn't expect too much of someone like that.
My brother Russell actually called me and wished me a happy birthday and that was the start of one of the most wonderful days of my life!!!!!!! He actually told me that he loves me and there are no words to express my joy at that moment. One would have had to have been starved for brotherly love all of one's life to be able to grasp how his words touched my heart!
I am NOT alone any more! I may be alone in a lot of ways from here on out, but I am no longer alone without someone from my family of origin to truly care whether I live or not! I am speechless with delight as I leave you with that wonderful answer to prayer.
Many of you deserve thanks for your prayers that led to that moment with my brother so this post is full of my heartfelt thanks. I love you all! Thanks for being there and thanks for caring!!!!!
Truly happy,
Dawn
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Miracle?
Is it a miracle???????? Well, I spent all of about 20 minutes last night laying on these miracle balls that I bought at Sam's yesterday. This was when people were constantly saying, "Mom, look at this on the Olympics," and I knew virtually nothing about what I was doing. She says that, if you ever have pain, you just move the balls, so I figured I'd give it a try.
It did hurt in one location on my lower back, so I moved the ball and it went away. I was surprised that it didn't hurt under my neck as she said often a person's most painful area will be too sensitive to treat directly. Oh, by the way, I'll answer the results question at the END of this post. I'll use Dr. Davis's technique to keep you reading. ;)
Anyway, I took these pictures this morning. It's kind of funny that the balls are the same picture as the new camera the children gave me for my birthday. :) Like I said in last night's short, imperfect post, I felt led to go to the books section in Sam's yesterday. It's like this little box just leaped out at me, so I picked it up.
That's commonly called, "Following your intuition," in BodyTalk. It's when you let the right side of your brain, which is the intuitive side, lead you and you temporarily turn down the left side (the logical side) of the brain which is screaming, "That doesn't make any sense?" Melanie taught us to say to our left brain at moments like that, "You need to go outside and take a walk now. You'll be welcome back in a few minutes." That really works by the way. I encourage you to welcome your intuition into your life especially at times when you're trying to make a decision. After all, God DID make BOTH sides of our brains but our culture teaches us to dis-trust the right brain intuition--HOW SAD!!! But that is the subject of another post which may or may not ever get written so I throw it in here. :) BIG BREATH AND PROCEED TO POINT!
This is the little box which had a big attraction to me yesterday.
These are the first words that I saw and I was hooked. It says, "Relieve your pain--Reshape your body--Reduce your stress". WOW It's like that 's all that I've been thinking about for the last 3 1/2 years (since the shingles on my brain started). HOW CAN I GET RID OF THIS PAIN????????? That's why I had 745 bee stings and I would consider that pretty drastic measures to try to reduce pain--so I have to lay on a couple of balls. Reduce my stress would be my next priority here as that is what brought on the shingles in the first place. Who cares about reshaping my body? OK, well maybe I care about that benefit a LITTLE bit. :)
Here's the whole kit which is helping people from all walks of life to get their pain under control.
and here is a closeup of a real live (oops) Miracle Ball.
I can hear you thinking, "So, what's your point?" Well, my point is this. After a massive 20 minutes of laying on these things last night while our family watched the Olympics re-cap of the day, I woke up with less pain in my lower back this morning!!! Through BodyTalk's Biofeedback system, I have the capability of asking my body for precise information about my state of being. I learned, then, that I had 23% less pain in my lower back when I woke up this morning than what I had yesterday morning!!!!! WOW--to me that is pretty impressive! It's impressive enough for me to continue reading the book and finding a few moments today to learn more about THE MIRACLE BALL METHOD.
It did hurt in one location on my lower back, so I moved the ball and it went away. I was surprised that it didn't hurt under my neck as she said often a person's most painful area will be too sensitive to treat directly. Oh, by the way, I'll answer the results question at the END of this post. I'll use Dr. Davis's technique to keep you reading. ;)
Anyway, I took these pictures this morning. It's kind of funny that the balls are the same picture as the new camera the children gave me for my birthday. :) Like I said in last night's short, imperfect post, I felt led to go to the books section in Sam's yesterday. It's like this little box just leaped out at me, so I picked it up.
That's commonly called, "Following your intuition," in BodyTalk. It's when you let the right side of your brain, which is the intuitive side, lead you and you temporarily turn down the left side (the logical side) of the brain which is screaming, "That doesn't make any sense?" Melanie taught us to say to our left brain at moments like that, "You need to go outside and take a walk now. You'll be welcome back in a few minutes." That really works by the way. I encourage you to welcome your intuition into your life especially at times when you're trying to make a decision. After all, God DID make BOTH sides of our brains but our culture teaches us to dis-trust the right brain intuition--HOW SAD!!! But that is the subject of another post which may or may not ever get written so I throw it in here. :) BIG BREATH AND PROCEED TO POINT!
This is the little box which had a big attraction to me yesterday.
These are the first words that I saw and I was hooked. It says, "Relieve your pain--Reshape your body--Reduce your stress". WOW It's like that 's all that I've been thinking about for the last 3 1/2 years (since the shingles on my brain started). HOW CAN I GET RID OF THIS PAIN????????? That's why I had 745 bee stings and I would consider that pretty drastic measures to try to reduce pain--so I have to lay on a couple of balls. Reduce my stress would be my next priority here as that is what brought on the shingles in the first place. Who cares about reshaping my body? OK, well maybe I care about that benefit a LITTLE bit. :)
Here's the whole kit which is helping people from all walks of life to get their pain under control.
and here is a closeup of a real live (oops) Miracle Ball.
I can hear you thinking, "So, what's your point?" Well, my point is this. After a massive 20 minutes of laying on these things last night while our family watched the Olympics re-cap of the day, I woke up with less pain in my lower back this morning!!! Through BodyTalk's Biofeedback system, I have the capability of asking my body for precise information about my state of being. I learned, then, that I had 23% less pain in my lower back when I woke up this morning than what I had yesterday morning!!!!! WOW--to me that is pretty impressive! It's impressive enough for me to continue reading the book and finding a few moments today to learn more about THE MIRACLE BALL METHOD.
I'll keep you posted. As you all know by now, my main reason for starting this blog was to pass along alternative health tips which can help YOU to have a better life too. When God shows me something that helps my health, well I'd just simply burst if I didn't share it with the world. Thus A RAY OF HOPE was begun in November of 2008 and I intend to share everything that I learn about health improvement here as long as the Lord decides to give me breath! It is my prayer that you, too, will learn to trust your intuition and pursue the natural methods that He has for YOUR healing. When you trust your intuition, it's a very interesting life. Oh the side- road adventures we take together--my Lord and I. :)
Happy today,
Dawn
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Ethel's Amazing Umbrella Conclusion
We're going to Eureka today so I covet your prayers. I just woke Dad up and he said that the snow plows are opening up Eureka to traffic already, although all of the churches in town have cancelled their services this morning. We need to go today as Robert will start trucking again tomorrow. He and Andrew are going out now with the 9030s to start the process of cleaning out the yard so that we can get out of here with the van. That statement made me realize that I'd best get outside now to get some pictures of the snowbanks that have blocked all but tractor movement here on our farm. I'll post them later.
Here's the conclusion of the story. I hope that you all enjoyed it!
Hugs,
Dawn
PS. I'll post the rest of my birthday pictures tomorrow.
The sun finally rose in Forest Grove on Christmas morning, but it's rays of sunshine seemed to be too little too late. A town encased in ice and snow, paralyzed by the loss of electricity and telephones, seemed almost afraid to admit it was Christmas.
The church house was certainly not full that Christmas morning. Though the heat and lights returned just minutes before the service was to begin, the inside of the church still felt like a frozen grave. And as word about Grandpa Billy began to be whispered around, a hushed kind of mourning began to replace the usually festive Christmas scene.
Just as the organ began to play some rather sour notes (Melba was a little less than accurate with her gloves on), through the side door came Ethel Simpson. Every hair was in place. Her face was serene and composed. She sat down on the front row, next to where Melba would sit when she had finished chipping away the ice cubes in the organ. As Melba watched Ethel out of the corner of her eye, she was overwhelmed at the peace Ethel seemed to have. Either she hadn't heard the news, or her umbrella was a lot tougher than anyone thought. As Pastor Thompson stood up and made the announcement about Billy, it was obvious that Ethel was not surprised. She knew.
The song service was subdued, but still a bit long. Then several deacons stopped and prayed for Billy and Ethel, mostly for Ethel, that she would have the grace to stand under the load. Then Pastor Thompson stood up to preach, and Melba slipped into the seat by her grieving, but composed best friend.
"You seem to be at peace," Melba whispered, as she slipped her hand in Ethel's for comfort. "I traded umbrellas last night," Ethel whispered back, "Jesus is my umbrella now."
"Yippee!!" the usually subdued Melba shouted at the top of her voice, sending the poor pastor who was trying to be somber into such a state of shock, he almost fell head first out of the pulpit.
All eyes were now on Melba, whose face had just acquired a sunburn seldom seen in the frozen north. But before she had a chance to explain, in the side door came a bedraggled Tim O'Reilly, his uniform smeared with mud and his eyes obviously red from crying. He walked directly to where Ethel was sitting, and without looking in her eyes, said, "Mrs. Simpson, you're needed at the hospital right away, please. They've . . . . . uh . . . . . found your husband." With that, he wheeled around, and literally ran through the door, apologizing for interrupting the service.
It took Ethel seven minutes to navigate the icy trail between the church and the emergency room of Forest Grove Memorial Hospital. She prayed the whole way, thanking God that He would give her the grace to endure. Soon, her one-eyed Rambler rounded the corner and pulled up to those big double doors, just behind a huge ambulance that was marked, "Marble Creek EMS". Fearfully, yet resigned to God's will, she slipped out of the car, and watched as they carried the stretchers of the injured into the hospital. One by one she watched them. Still no Billy.
Finally, two men went in and brought out the last one. All she could see from where she was standing was an ominous white sheet that seemed to signify the worst.
As they brought Billy's lifeless body from the ambulance, Ethel ran to his side, and bending over him, whispered, "Oh, Billy, if only you could've known. I've got a brand new umbrella, Billy. I asked your Jesus to come into my heart. Oh, Billy, I'll still see you some day. . . . I'm a Christian now!"
Ethel stood, nearly motionless, weeping, by the body of her husband of 41 years. As she turned to walk away, a voice behind her spoke, "Happy Birthday, Ethel. Welcome to the family!"
Ethel wheeled around to see who it was that had followed her to the hospital that might be speaking. She looked, but there was no one in sight.
Then she looked down at Grandpa Billy one more time. One eye opened, then closed, as if he were mischieviously winking his eye at his best girl (which he was).
"Happy Birthday, Ethel," Grandpa whispered again, as the old man finally began to regain consciousness. For seven hours he had held on at the edge of a frozen lake, hanging on to a tree limb for his life, singing hymns of praise to his Jesus, until finally he had lapsed into an unconscious state, somehow miraculously without letting go of that limb.
Tears of grief turned to tears of joy as Ethel Simpson, 61 years old in this world, and less than 12 hours old in Jesus, began to sing and to praise her new-found Lord for what He had done. Billy Simpson got so excited listening, he sat bolt upright on the stretcher, and, using all the strength he had, shouted, "My Ethel's got a new umbrella!" The folks in the emergency room didn't quite understand why a new umbrella deserved that kind of recognition. . . . but we understand, don't we?
Now, if you thought they had birthday celebrations at Grandpa Billy's place before, you won't believe the likes of what goes on at Christmas now. A brand new banner has been added that reads, "Happy Birthday Ethel," and instead of hidin' in the back with the cookies and cake, Grandma Ethel Simpson is the first one up on that make-shift platform Christmas day to give her testimony. And Christmas day isn't the only day she gives her testimony.
Why, if you drive up to Forest Grove tomorrow, and stop in at Grandpa Billy's Drug Store, you can just bank on the fact that as soon as you walk in, one kindly old gentleman, now with a little of a limp, but with no less of a smile, will still greet you, and point to that seemingly invincible coffee pot in the corner, where he'll proceed to ask you if you happen to know a friend of his, whose name is Jesus.
The difference today is, should you hesitate to meet his friend, he'll just send you over to the drug counter, where a beaming Ethel Simpson waits to take over where he left off.
By the way, on the counter, just in front of her, is a twelve-inch cardboard replica of an umbrella. And neatly printed on it are the words, "Ask me about my amazing umbrella."
I just dare you to ask!
© Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.10602 Mossbank, San Antonio, TX 78230
1-800-375-7778 or 210-226-0000
Web: www.dtm.org, E-mail: dtm@dtm.org
--->
Questions regarding Discipleship Tape Ministries and its pages may be sent to: DTM
Last Update: January 23, 2002
© 2001-2002 Discipleship Tape Ministries, Inc. All rights reserved.
Here's the conclusion of the story. I hope that you all enjoyed it!
Hugs,
Dawn
PS. I'll post the rest of my birthday pictures tomorrow.
CONCLUSION
The church house was certainly not full that Christmas morning. Though the heat and lights returned just minutes before the service was to begin, the inside of the church still felt like a frozen grave. And as word about Grandpa Billy began to be whispered around, a hushed kind of mourning began to replace the usually festive Christmas scene.
Just as the organ began to play some rather sour notes (Melba was a little less than accurate with her gloves on), through the side door came Ethel Simpson. Every hair was in place. Her face was serene and composed. She sat down on the front row, next to where Melba would sit when she had finished chipping away the ice cubes in the organ. As Melba watched Ethel out of the corner of her eye, she was overwhelmed at the peace Ethel seemed to have. Either she hadn't heard the news, or her umbrella was a lot tougher than anyone thought. As Pastor Thompson stood up and made the announcement about Billy, it was obvious that Ethel was not surprised. She knew.
The song service was subdued, but still a bit long. Then several deacons stopped and prayed for Billy and Ethel, mostly for Ethel, that she would have the grace to stand under the load. Then Pastor Thompson stood up to preach, and Melba slipped into the seat by her grieving, but composed best friend.
"You seem to be at peace," Melba whispered, as she slipped her hand in Ethel's for comfort. "I traded umbrellas last night," Ethel whispered back, "Jesus is my umbrella now."
"Yippee!!" the usually subdued Melba shouted at the top of her voice, sending the poor pastor who was trying to be somber into such a state of shock, he almost fell head first out of the pulpit.
All eyes were now on Melba, whose face had just acquired a sunburn seldom seen in the frozen north. But before she had a chance to explain, in the side door came a bedraggled Tim O'Reilly, his uniform smeared with mud and his eyes obviously red from crying. He walked directly to where Ethel was sitting, and without looking in her eyes, said, "Mrs. Simpson, you're needed at the hospital right away, please. They've . . . . . uh . . . . . found your husband." With that, he wheeled around, and literally ran through the door, apologizing for interrupting the service.
It took Ethel seven minutes to navigate the icy trail between the church and the emergency room of Forest Grove Memorial Hospital. She prayed the whole way, thanking God that He would give her the grace to endure. Soon, her one-eyed Rambler rounded the corner and pulled up to those big double doors, just behind a huge ambulance that was marked, "Marble Creek EMS". Fearfully, yet resigned to God's will, she slipped out of the car, and watched as they carried the stretchers of the injured into the hospital. One by one she watched them. Still no Billy.
Finally, two men went in and brought out the last one. All she could see from where she was standing was an ominous white sheet that seemed to signify the worst.
As they brought Billy's lifeless body from the ambulance, Ethel ran to his side, and bending over him, whispered, "Oh, Billy, if only you could've known. I've got a brand new umbrella, Billy. I asked your Jesus to come into my heart. Oh, Billy, I'll still see you some day. . . . I'm a Christian now!"
Ethel stood, nearly motionless, weeping, by the body of her husband of 41 years. As she turned to walk away, a voice behind her spoke, "Happy Birthday, Ethel. Welcome to the family!"
Ethel wheeled around to see who it was that had followed her to the hospital that might be speaking. She looked, but there was no one in sight.
Then she looked down at Grandpa Billy one more time. One eye opened, then closed, as if he were mischieviously winking his eye at his best girl (which he was).
"Happy Birthday, Ethel," Grandpa whispered again, as the old man finally began to regain consciousness. For seven hours he had held on at the edge of a frozen lake, hanging on to a tree limb for his life, singing hymns of praise to his Jesus, until finally he had lapsed into an unconscious state, somehow miraculously without letting go of that limb.
Tears of grief turned to tears of joy as Ethel Simpson, 61 years old in this world, and less than 12 hours old in Jesus, began to sing and to praise her new-found Lord for what He had done. Billy Simpson got so excited listening, he sat bolt upright on the stretcher, and, using all the strength he had, shouted, "My Ethel's got a new umbrella!" The folks in the emergency room didn't quite understand why a new umbrella deserved that kind of recognition. . . . but we understand, don't we?
Now, if you thought they had birthday celebrations at Grandpa Billy's place before, you won't believe the likes of what goes on at Christmas now. A brand new banner has been added that reads, "Happy Birthday Ethel," and instead of hidin' in the back with the cookies and cake, Grandma Ethel Simpson is the first one up on that make-shift platform Christmas day to give her testimony. And Christmas day isn't the only day she gives her testimony.
Why, if you drive up to Forest Grove tomorrow, and stop in at Grandpa Billy's Drug Store, you can just bank on the fact that as soon as you walk in, one kindly old gentleman, now with a little of a limp, but with no less of a smile, will still greet you, and point to that seemingly invincible coffee pot in the corner, where he'll proceed to ask you if you happen to know a friend of his, whose name is Jesus.
The difference today is, should you hesitate to meet his friend, he'll just send you over to the drug counter, where a beaming Ethel Simpson waits to take over where he left off.
By the way, on the counter, just in front of her, is a twelve-inch cardboard replica of an umbrella. And neatly printed on it are the words, "Ask me about my amazing umbrella."
I just dare you to ask!
© Russell Kelfer. All rights reserved.10602 Mossbank, San Antonio, TX 78230
1-800-375-7778 or 210-226-0000
Web: www.dtm.org, E-mail: dtm@dtm.org
--->
Questions regarding Discipleship Tape Ministries and its pages may be sent to: DTM
Last Update: January 23, 2002
© 2001-2002 Discipleship Tape Ministries, Inc. All rights reserved.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Ethel's Amazing Umbrella Part 3
I'll write more later, as people are "Starving" around here, but I thought that you'd like to have some time to read the next chapter. This is the best one of all!!! May it be so for all of the Ethel's in the world!!!!!!!!! AMEN?
Dawn
By sundown, sleet was beginning to fall and the roads were like ribbons of plate glass, shimmering in the moonlight. Trees were beginning to bend to the breaking point, as the sheer weight of the ice that was forming seemed to create fan-shaped glaciers along Glenoak Lane, the long two-laned stretch that connected the main street of Forest Grove with the tiny road that ran along the outskirts of town where the Simpsons lived.
The trip home seemed to take an eternity for Ethel. You just can't drive too slowly on those kinds of streets, but even though she found herself just inching along, as she tried to negotiate that curve around Sanderson Creek, suddenly the right wheel on her little Rambler lost its footing, and before she could so much as respond, she had lost control, and found herself careening helplessly across the highway and into an ice-coated barbed wire fence that simply refused to give. As she crawled across the seat and out the passenger door to see what damage had been done, she stepped down hurriedly on the icy pavement, and losing her footing, she fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
"My umbrella is adequate," you could almost hear her thinking out loud, as the unflappable grandma grabbed hold of the antenna on the car, pulled herself up, shook off the snow, and assessed the damage. One dented fender, one crushed headlight, no broken bones.
Carefully, she started the motor and put it in reverse. With the rear wheels slipping and sliding, she inched backwards until there was just enough room between her one good headlight and that somewhat stunned fence post, and slowly she rocked her rambler back and forth, until it began to move, ever so slowly, back towards the highly polished highway that led to home.
"Well, I'm not much the worse for the wear," she surmised, as she walked up her front steps, "and Benny Grogan's Body Shop can reconstruct old Rusty the Rambler; they've done it before." With that, she reached for the lights in the front room, grateful to be in the familiar setting of home at last.
But it didn't take long for reality to settle in. The light's didn't go on. And it was obvious they weren't about to. Another power failure. Well, Ethel Simpson had handled power failures before. Her umbrella had been quite adequate for those. This was, however, the first one she'd faced when Billy wasn't home to help.
Soon, reality #2 settled in. This time, the extra circuit that operated the fan on the furnace was out, too; and the temperature in that rambling ten-room house was apparently in a race to the finish to compete with the temperature outside, and it wasn't clear which one was winning. There was at least one silver lining in the cloud, though. Nothing in the freezer had thawed. The whole house was a freezer.
After struggling to find her good flashlight, she discovered Grandpa had borrowed the batteries to power his flashing "Happy Birthday" sign on the Christmas cake, which meant she had to grope her way in the dark to the shed in back where the backup generator (which was just a little older than she was) held her last ray of hope for light and heat. But alas, it hadn't been checked all winter, and now that she needed it, a faint grunt and a final groan were all it was able to deliver.
Shivering, Ethel cautiously inched her way back along the ice-covered sidewalk to the house, where she began to grope for every blanket and overcoat in sight. After what seemed like an eternity of searching, she found the matches to light the candles. It seems Gramps had moved them to his shop in the garage without calling a high-level conference and informing the other half of the household of the change. She'd have to have a chat with Billy about that little move!
By now, Ethel was sure that Grandpa and the men would be back at the Drug Store checkin' out the decorations, so she figured a phone call would bring her a little comfort and a chance to vent some of her anger at her husband's inefficiency where the generator and the matches were concerned. There was, however, one more slight problem. The telephones weren't working either. Apparently, the storm up the way had iced over the lines, causing them to snap and no one was going to call anyone from that phone for probably a week at best.
Ethel looked out the window. It was as if somebody had suddenly emptied heaven of all its snow on one square mile of planet earth. The wind began blowing so hard, you could almost feel it through the walls, and the snow was falling so heavily, even the bright moonlight which had led her home, was totally obscured by the blanket of white that literally surrounded her.
Suddenly, a feeling of panic settled in; a feeling she had not experienced before. Believe it or not, Ethel Simpson was afraid. And she didn't have the slightest idea what to do about it. Oh, for a brief moment, she thought about praying, but she had programmed herself for so long that prayer was nothing but an exercise in futility that she dismissed that thought immediately and began searching for ways to divert her attention from the apparent hopelessness of the situation.
After what seemed like an eternity, she remembered the little portable radio she kept in the cedar chest in the hall. "If Billy didn't steal the batteries for some kind of lighted Bible cover or something," she reasoned sarcastically, "maybe I can at least listen to some music."
At last, success. She found the radio, batteries still intact, and she tuned it into station KLHG, an all night fm station up in Beaver City. Soon, soothing music began flowing from the tiny little receiver, and Ethel began to regain her composure, as though she had discovered a quick way to patch the hole that had appeared unexpectedly in her umbrella of self-reliance. Propped up on the couch, wrapped in three coats and four blankets, Ethel Simpson began to doze off to the tune of "Winter Wonderland" on her tiny radio. But wouldn't you know it . . . just as she was starting to drift into a somewhat arctic dreamland, the announcer breaks in and interrupts the music.
"We interrupt this broadcast for a special news bulletin," he curtly announced. "This word is just in from Sheriff Bill Jamison in Marble Creek. A search party has been combing the area for the whereabouts of at least three people presumed to be lost when their houses were destroyed in today's storm."
"Sheriff Jamison just informed us that the search party came upon unexpected winds just north of the Oak Creek cutoff, and four of the ten searchers were swept away unexpectedly by the currents. We are glad to report that three of the four have been located and rescue teams are on the way. Only one is still missing. Tim O'Reilly, head of the search crew, lists the one still missing and feared lost to be . . . . . one Billy Simpson, age 62, from Forest Grove. We repeat, all others appear to have been saved. Stay tuned to this station for further developments."
It was at that point that Ethel Simpson's amazing umbrella began to leak, . . . and badly. For the first time in her life, circumstances were beyond her control. The one person in her life that mattered above all else was missing and presumed to be dead, and she was marooned in a house that resembled a rambling refrigerator, devoid of heat or light, cut off from all her friends and family. She had no place to turn.
Make that almost no place.
Trembling from head to foot, partly from the cold, and partly from the shock, she sank to her knees, her head resting on the cushions of the couch, and for the first time in her 61 years that she could remember, she began weeping uncontrollably.
What seemed like hours passed before she could stop sobbing long enough to speak. Finally, her throat hoarse from the weeping, she began to pray out loud.
"Dear God, I know you're there. I know because my husband told me you were. He's Billy Simpson, God," she asserted, just in case God hadn't made the connection, "and he appears to be in big trouble. He may be," the words stuck in her throat," . . . dead."
"All my life, God, I've taken pride in not needing You. I've boasted that I had an umbrella that could shelter me from any storm this life could bring. God, I was wrong. I can't handle this."
"I know You may not bring my Billy back. But God, I can't live without him without some help. I've never said this before, God, but my umbrella's leaking . . . . bad."
Ethel paused a moment, trying to recall just what it was she had heard Billy tell so many people huddled around that old coffee pot at the store to do to become "born over" or whatever it was that happened. She could remember them talking about being sinners. (She's never fancied herself one of those.) Now suddenly for the first time in her life, she realized that her very unwillingness to trust God with her life was the greatest sin of all . . . and she all but shouted at the top of her lungs, "God, I AM A SINNER. Please forgive me."
Then she remembered how a young man from down at Briscoe knelt down by that coffee pot one day, and prayed, asking Jesus into his heart. At the time, it seemed so childish. Now suddenly, Ethel's voice, quivering, yet with a strange sense of authority quietly invited Jesus to take over her life. "I don't know for sure what this means," she added, "but I know that's what I want. Dear Jesus, please take my tattered, self-righteous umbrella and change it for one that works. Amen."
Ethel Simpson was kneeling on a cold floor in a house that was nearing the freezing mark, yet a kind of warmth swept through her soul that she had never experienced in her life. It was like summertime had settled in her heart. She stood to her feet, somewhat amazed at the peace that had suddenly swept over her.
She slipped to her knees once more. "Lord," she prayed (for now He WAS her Lord), "I know it may be too late, and I know it may not be your will, but Lord, if it be possible, save my husband from dying so he can know that I've become a Christian at last. But Lord, if it's what's best, . . . You take him home . . . (the words seemed to stick in her throat again, but she went on) . . . . Now I know that, either way, one day I'll see him again."
_____________________________________________________
Dawn
By sundown, sleet was beginning to fall and the roads were like ribbons of plate glass, shimmering in the moonlight. Trees were beginning to bend to the breaking point, as the sheer weight of the ice that was forming seemed to create fan-shaped glaciers along Glenoak Lane, the long two-laned stretch that connected the main street of Forest Grove with the tiny road that ran along the outskirts of town where the Simpsons lived.
The trip home seemed to take an eternity for Ethel. You just can't drive too slowly on those kinds of streets, but even though she found herself just inching along, as she tried to negotiate that curve around Sanderson Creek, suddenly the right wheel on her little Rambler lost its footing, and before she could so much as respond, she had lost control, and found herself careening helplessly across the highway and into an ice-coated barbed wire fence that simply refused to give. As she crawled across the seat and out the passenger door to see what damage had been done, she stepped down hurriedly on the icy pavement, and losing her footing, she fell to the ground with a sickening thud.
"My umbrella is adequate," you could almost hear her thinking out loud, as the unflappable grandma grabbed hold of the antenna on the car, pulled herself up, shook off the snow, and assessed the damage. One dented fender, one crushed headlight, no broken bones.
Carefully, she started the motor and put it in reverse. With the rear wheels slipping and sliding, she inched backwards until there was just enough room between her one good headlight and that somewhat stunned fence post, and slowly she rocked her rambler back and forth, until it began to move, ever so slowly, back towards the highly polished highway that led to home.
"Well, I'm not much the worse for the wear," she surmised, as she walked up her front steps, "and Benny Grogan's Body Shop can reconstruct old Rusty the Rambler; they've done it before." With that, she reached for the lights in the front room, grateful to be in the familiar setting of home at last.
But it didn't take long for reality to settle in. The light's didn't go on. And it was obvious they weren't about to. Another power failure. Well, Ethel Simpson had handled power failures before. Her umbrella had been quite adequate for those. This was, however, the first one she'd faced when Billy wasn't home to help.
Soon, reality #2 settled in. This time, the extra circuit that operated the fan on the furnace was out, too; and the temperature in that rambling ten-room house was apparently in a race to the finish to compete with the temperature outside, and it wasn't clear which one was winning. There was at least one silver lining in the cloud, though. Nothing in the freezer had thawed. The whole house was a freezer.
After struggling to find her good flashlight, she discovered Grandpa had borrowed the batteries to power his flashing "Happy Birthday" sign on the Christmas cake, which meant she had to grope her way in the dark to the shed in back where the backup generator (which was just a little older than she was) held her last ray of hope for light and heat. But alas, it hadn't been checked all winter, and now that she needed it, a faint grunt and a final groan were all it was able to deliver.
Shivering, Ethel cautiously inched her way back along the ice-covered sidewalk to the house, where she began to grope for every blanket and overcoat in sight. After what seemed like an eternity of searching, she found the matches to light the candles. It seems Gramps had moved them to his shop in the garage without calling a high-level conference and informing the other half of the household of the change. She'd have to have a chat with Billy about that little move!
By now, Ethel was sure that Grandpa and the men would be back at the Drug Store checkin' out the decorations, so she figured a phone call would bring her a little comfort and a chance to vent some of her anger at her husband's inefficiency where the generator and the matches were concerned. There was, however, one more slight problem. The telephones weren't working either. Apparently, the storm up the way had iced over the lines, causing them to snap and no one was going to call anyone from that phone for probably a week at best.
Ethel looked out the window. It was as if somebody had suddenly emptied heaven of all its snow on one square mile of planet earth. The wind began blowing so hard, you could almost feel it through the walls, and the snow was falling so heavily, even the bright moonlight which had led her home, was totally obscured by the blanket of white that literally surrounded her.
Suddenly, a feeling of panic settled in; a feeling she had not experienced before. Believe it or not, Ethel Simpson was afraid. And she didn't have the slightest idea what to do about it. Oh, for a brief moment, she thought about praying, but she had programmed herself for so long that prayer was nothing but an exercise in futility that she dismissed that thought immediately and began searching for ways to divert her attention from the apparent hopelessness of the situation.
After what seemed like an eternity, she remembered the little portable radio she kept in the cedar chest in the hall. "If Billy didn't steal the batteries for some kind of lighted Bible cover or something," she reasoned sarcastically, "maybe I can at least listen to some music."
At last, success. She found the radio, batteries still intact, and she tuned it into station KLHG, an all night fm station up in Beaver City. Soon, soothing music began flowing from the tiny little receiver, and Ethel began to regain her composure, as though she had discovered a quick way to patch the hole that had appeared unexpectedly in her umbrella of self-reliance. Propped up on the couch, wrapped in three coats and four blankets, Ethel Simpson began to doze off to the tune of "Winter Wonderland" on her tiny radio. But wouldn't you know it . . . just as she was starting to drift into a somewhat arctic dreamland, the announcer breaks in and interrupts the music.
"We interrupt this broadcast for a special news bulletin," he curtly announced. "This word is just in from Sheriff Bill Jamison in Marble Creek. A search party has been combing the area for the whereabouts of at least three people presumed to be lost when their houses were destroyed in today's storm."
"Sheriff Jamison just informed us that the search party came upon unexpected winds just north of the Oak Creek cutoff, and four of the ten searchers were swept away unexpectedly by the currents. We are glad to report that three of the four have been located and rescue teams are on the way. Only one is still missing. Tim O'Reilly, head of the search crew, lists the one still missing and feared lost to be . . . . . one Billy Simpson, age 62, from Forest Grove. We repeat, all others appear to have been saved. Stay tuned to this station for further developments."
It was at that point that Ethel Simpson's amazing umbrella began to leak, . . . and badly. For the first time in her life, circumstances were beyond her control. The one person in her life that mattered above all else was missing and presumed to be dead, and she was marooned in a house that resembled a rambling refrigerator, devoid of heat or light, cut off from all her friends and family. She had no place to turn.
Make that almost no place.
Trembling from head to foot, partly from the cold, and partly from the shock, she sank to her knees, her head resting on the cushions of the couch, and for the first time in her 61 years that she could remember, she began weeping uncontrollably.
What seemed like hours passed before she could stop sobbing long enough to speak. Finally, her throat hoarse from the weeping, she began to pray out loud.
"Dear God, I know you're there. I know because my husband told me you were. He's Billy Simpson, God," she asserted, just in case God hadn't made the connection, "and he appears to be in big trouble. He may be," the words stuck in her throat," . . . dead."
"All my life, God, I've taken pride in not needing You. I've boasted that I had an umbrella that could shelter me from any storm this life could bring. God, I was wrong. I can't handle this."
"I know You may not bring my Billy back. But God, I can't live without him without some help. I've never said this before, God, but my umbrella's leaking . . . . bad."
Ethel paused a moment, trying to recall just what it was she had heard Billy tell so many people huddled around that old coffee pot at the store to do to become "born over" or whatever it was that happened. She could remember them talking about being sinners. (She's never fancied herself one of those.) Now suddenly for the first time in her life, she realized that her very unwillingness to trust God with her life was the greatest sin of all . . . and she all but shouted at the top of her lungs, "God, I AM A SINNER. Please forgive me."
Then she remembered how a young man from down at Briscoe knelt down by that coffee pot one day, and prayed, asking Jesus into his heart. At the time, it seemed so childish. Now suddenly, Ethel's voice, quivering, yet with a strange sense of authority quietly invited Jesus to take over her life. "I don't know for sure what this means," she added, "but I know that's what I want. Dear Jesus, please take my tattered, self-righteous umbrella and change it for one that works. Amen."
Ethel Simpson was kneeling on a cold floor in a house that was nearing the freezing mark, yet a kind of warmth swept through her soul that she had never experienced in her life. It was like summertime had settled in her heart. She stood to her feet, somewhat amazed at the peace that had suddenly swept over her.
She slipped to her knees once more. "Lord," she prayed (for now He WAS her Lord), "I know it may be too late, and I know it may not be your will, but Lord, if it be possible, save my husband from dying so he can know that I've become a Christian at last. But Lord, if it's what's best, . . . You take him home . . . (the words seemed to stick in her throat again, but she went on) . . . . Now I know that, either way, one day I'll see him again."
_____________________________________________________
Friday, December 25, 2009
52 & Ethel's Umbrella part 2
This is a picture of my family of choice taken in my parent's home one year ago today. Cora said to me, "WOW mom, I can sure tell by looking at this picture that you have lost a lot of weight this year." HOW SWEET THOSE WORDS ARE TO ME!! It's been a year of major changes for me and this one is the sweetest. I have learned that I do NOT have to take solace in eating every time that I am upset. I've been learning that there are far better ways to comfort myself than eating--things like: playing piano; doing BodyTalk on myself; writing here on my blog; taking a soak in my whirlpool; or you could say, "Taking time to smell the roses!"
Today is my birthday and I am 52 years old!!! I got my biggest birthday wish come true too!!! If you are a "Christmas baby," you'll understand how wonderful it is to just be at home with your family and enjoy your birthday without all of the "Fussing" over Christmas going on all around you.
Actually, we were supposed to be down in Eureka today but the Lord "Just happened to" arrange a blizzard which "Forced" us to stay at home. I am soooooooooo glad as it sounds like there is more than one storm brewing down there. Please keep my family of origin in your prayers today as today has the potential to be a turning point for all of us. Frankly, it didn't get off to the best of starts but GOD CAN DO ANYTHING. Actually you can keep our family in your prayers, too, if you have any extra prayer time available today. ;) I try VERY hard not to let the negativity from my first family creep into my second family. I haven't been successful at this most years, ESPECIALLY at this time of year, but I'm doing better now!
Well, as promised, here is today's portion of Ethel's Amazing Umbrella. I love you all and pray that the warmth of God's love fills your heart wherever you are and with whomever you are. :)
Hugs and prayers,
Dawn
CHAPTER THREE
Their spiritual differences really came to a head about three years ago, when the Reverend Thompson used Easter Sunday, of all times, to preach a message on Noah and the flood. His title was, "Noah's Amazing Umbrella". Being Easter, Ethel was there, all decked out in a new outfit acquired at Edmond's Elite Dress Shop up in Breezeville, about a half a day away (the way the Simpson's old Rambler rambled) But Ethel left the service that Easter colored with a bit more red than she came with, the color coming from the anger that surfaced in her face at the way the good Parson talked about "coping with life".
The crux of his message was that Noah went through the storms of life safely because he had that amazing umbrella called faith. That umbrella, he went on, was to protect him from the harm of the storm, even though he had to pass through the storm to do God's will. The Reverend ended his message by asking, "What kind of umbrella do you have to weather the storms of life?" He went on to say, without apology, that if you haven't asked Jesus Christ to come into your life, when those storms really begin to come, you're going to find that your umbrella of self-reliance has a hole in it, and unless you trade it in for one of "God's Amazing Umbrellas", you'll never be able to weather life's storms. He got a few "amens" and some positive comments after the service, but Ethel Simpson wouldn't so much as look at him, and on the way home from church that day, Grandpa Billy got an earful from his perfectly dressed, but definitely out of sorts companion.
"Just who does he think he is, prescribing Jesus like a pill for hard times?" she almost shrieked in Billy's ear. "You Christians don't have a corner on strength. Strength comes from the will. You can't hang that one on God."
Grandpa was almost excited that the Parson had touched on a raw nerve. At least there was some evidence that she was wrestling with rejecting what he'd said. That, he surmised, was progress. Another thing really made an impact on Gramps. She had said, "You Christians," implying that she didn't categorize herself as "one of those" even though she met all the criteria (based on her own concept of "good works").
You see, one of Ethel's struggles with this "born over" stuff was that she had lived such a "good" life, she couldn't imagine needing to be saved from anything. She didn't lie, didn't have bad habits, didn't cuss, drink, smoke, or chew. She'd been a nearly perfect mother, a loving wife, a diligent citizen, and a hard worker. She'd rescued her brothers and sisters from the brink of nothingness, and lifted them to the category of productive, useful citizens. Oh, she could see some psychological advantage to a religious experience for the "down and outer", but not for the do-gooders like herself. She could see maybe a savior for sinners, but by her standards at least, a sinner she definitely wasn't.
But Ethel's main gripe with the Reverend's theology was this "amazing umbrella" stuff, that indicated that there was a need in life for someone else to live your life for you, and enable you to become what he kept callin' "more than conquerors."
Ethel fancied herself a conqueror, and she had done it all with sheer will power. "I've got my own umbrella," she shouted into Billy's ear as they drove up the long cobblestone driveway to their ranch style house, "And my umbrella's got no holes in it. My umbrella does just fine in a storm, just fine," she murmured. "That parson's tryin' to make us into helpless cripples who have to depend on God for the breath we breathe," she went on. "God helps those who help themselves," she ranted in arrogant tones, now, once more inscribing the trademark of her theology as a postscript for her sermonette.
Grandpa had a good answer. "You've got a mighty fine umbrella, Ethel," he acknowledged, "a mighty fine umbrella. You've weathered some tough ones without so much as gettin' wet. I reckon', however, that some day you just might get into a storm that your umbrella can't handle. Then maybe you'll get the gist of what the good pastor's been sayin'." With that he gave her a big bear hug and headed for the kitchen, and the roast and potatoes, the aroma of which had been captivating his attention since before they left for church.
Of course, Ethel wasn't through discussing the ramifications of the good pastor's "do-nothin'" theology, but she decided not to let it ruin a perfectly good forty-year-plus marriage. Instead, she used Alexander Graham Bell's instrument of communication the next morning to lay an earful on her patient, but converted friend, Melba Peabody.
Melba listened, the way an exceptional friend would, then finally, used the same approach as Billy, simply acknowledging that up until now at least, Ethel did indeed have an amazing umbrella. "There just might come a time," she cautiously concluded, "when you'll come to understand just what it is the good parson's talking about." Then, with the finesse of a skilled surgeon, she carefully guided the conversation into less controversial areas, and a detailed discussion of the hat Pearl Anderson had the gall to wear on Easter Sunday. At last, they had something they could agree upon again. The hat was atrocious. End of confrontation number one.
But it wasn't the end of the subject. Far from it.
Nearly every week, something seemed to happen that was a bit unpleasant. Like the time the penicillin didn't arrive at the pharmacy on time, and the Merkins' kids had the flu, and Ethel had to drive through blinding snow to Cloverdale and get some more. The car broke down, she had a flat, had to walk two miles in the snow for help, and still got back with the penicillin in time. "My umbrella seemed to hold just fine," she quipped to Melba the next morning. "No prayers, no Bible verses, no divine intervention," she went on, almost gleefully. "You can do what you have to do if you just believe you can," she concluded.
Melba was biting her tongue so hard she almost had to call Doc Forsythe to stop the bleeding, but graciously she simply responded, "You've got an amazing umbrella, Ethel, an amazing umbrella, indeed."
This kind of conversation sort of became the norm between these two old friends as the days passed into months and finally into years since that incredible Christmas day in Forest Grove. Ethel would chide Melba with every stroke of her self-reliant success, and Melba would quietly respond, "Amazing umbrella you've got, Ethel, simply amazing." But Melba was praying all the while that God would either expose Ethel to the true state of her self-righteous covering, or allow her to experience a storm her umbrella couldn't handle.
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CHAPTER FOUR
Ethel, of course, dreaded Christmas. It meant more work at the store, more work at home, and worst of all that horrendous birthday party at the Pharmacy on Christmas afternoon.
It would've seemed all right in a third grade Sunday school class in the Bible belt, but for grown men and women in a sophisticated little eastern village to stand around singing, "Happy Birthday to Jesus," and "Happy Birthday to Grandpa," and "Happy Birthday" to this one and that one on into the night, seemed at best a bit childish and unnecessary. And oh, that "testimony time" as they called it; if that wasn't the longest part of Christmas day. All those supposedly mature grownups tellin' how Jesus led them to a certain job, or how Jesus helped them make it through some crisis (as though they couldn't have done it without Him).
She had to admit everyone else sure had a good time. It was like the whole town (in fact the whole county) waited all year for Grandpa Billy's Birthday party at Christmas. Folks would come for miles around to sing Christmas carols, eat birthday cake, and talk about Jesus and all that stuff. It was the highlight of the year for most of Forest Grove. Melba practically lived for the day. But for Ethel it was the longest day she had to suffer through. She was always there, makin' the punch, cuttin' the cake, and disappearin' into the back when the Jesus stories got a little heavy for her to handle.
So as December 24th rolled around and Grandpa's "fifth Birthday party" loomed on the horizon, Ethel Simpson once again faced the holidays with mixed emotions.
It's now about noon on Christmas eve, and the activity level at Grandpa Bill's Palace has reached a fevered pitch. Wall to wall "helpers" are busy stacking chairs, moving displays, putting up "Happy Birthday to" banners, and in general making it impossible for Ethel to count out 12 "somethin'-myacin" tablets to fill the prescription Doc Forsythe wrote out for Annabelle Foster's ten-year-old (the one with the strep throat).
"I can't run a business with this infernal partyin' goin' on," she muttered, thinking, of course, no one could hear.
"Careful, Ethel, your umbrella's startin' to leak," Melba Peabody whispered. Melba had been standin' right behind her on a ladder and just happened to hear the soulful murmuring of her agitated friend. "Just kiddin', Melba, just kiddin'," Ethel quickly replied, not wanting a short fuse to give anyone the wrong idea about her "more-than- adequate" umbrella of patience.
Melba smiled, and added softly, "Of course," and continued her somewhat unwelcome assistance in the banner-hanging department.
About that time, young Sergeant O'Reilly, the clean-cut chap who served as state trooper in this neck of the woods came rushing through the door, so out of breath it took a minute or two for his Irish brogue and his huffin' and puffin' to begin to march to the same cadence so anyone could understand what he was saying.
"Big storm up at Marble Creek," he finally shouted, "Two houses blown down, three people missin', and the river's about to go out of its banks. I need some volunteers. I need at least ten willing men to help me with a rescue operation. I know it's Christmas eve, but we'll be back by sundown," the excited trooper went on. He was desperately trying not to show that he was panicking under pressure, but to most everyone around, it was obvious that on a scale of 1 to 10, his emotions were up somewhere around eleven and a half.
"I'll go," Brad Everson responded quickly, "Count me in." "Me too," Sonny Whitman chimed in. Soon Rob Severenson, Cal Brown, and Grandpa Billy joined the brigade, and before long, there were ten assorted volunteers piling in the long, stake bed pickup parked in front of the drug store (the one with the blue state trooper emblem faded, but still visible on the doors).
Somehow, Grandma Ethel breathed a sigh of relief. She hated to see everyone leave, especially for such a sad assignment on Christmas Eve, yet as the ranks thinned out in the drug store, it was as though she had room to breathe again, and with Grandpa down the road, doin' his duty as a volunteer, it left her in charge of the goin's on at the Pharmacy, and "Maybe," she thought, "I can restore a little order to the preparations for this 'birthday bash'." (And restore a little order, she did.)
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Ethel's Amazing Umbrella
I just love it when God answers my prayer immediately!!! When HE does that, it's like there's just no doubt in the world that He just answered my prayer--that's what he did for me right now! Let me explain.
You see it's Christmas Eve and, as I was washing up the things for milking, I was thinking that I still have no idea what to post about today. I'd been pondering what to post all day, but not a thing has come to mind that seemed worth taking your time to read about. You see, we don't keep Christmas anymore. HOW SHOCKING!!! We haven't kept Christmas for over a decade in this household.
"Still," I prayed, "there must be SOMETHING that I could share with people to make them think about the Lord instead of getting presents and listening for Santa Claus this night."
Just then one of my favorite radio preachers came on Rejoice Radio. His name is Russell Kelfer and, although he lives in Heaven now, I value hearing his thoughts daily. Well he wrote this story years ago I guess. Every year around Christmas time, they play it on Rejoice and we love it every time we get to hear it.
"I sure wish that I could share that with the folks out there," I thought. That was when Jacob checked for me and sure enough he found it on-line. So you see, God DOES answer some prayers with a, "Yes" immediately. I pray that you'll be as blessed with this story as we are each year. I'll post a couple chapters every day until it's finished. The most wonderful thing about this time of year to me, is that people take the time to think about each other a little bit more than they usually do.
I hope that you'll be blessed by this story of a little country town in the hills who were fortunate enough to have a pastor who taught people the truth about their need for a Savior. I just love how the Lord works to show people that He loves them no matter how hard they try to convince Him that they don't care a hoot about Him. Thanks for coming down here, Lord, and thanks for making a way for us to find peace with you and ourselves!!!
Peace to all this night,
Dawn
Ethel's Amazing Umbrella
You see it's Christmas Eve and, as I was washing up the things for milking, I was thinking that I still have no idea what to post about today. I'd been pondering what to post all day, but not a thing has come to mind that seemed worth taking your time to read about. You see, we don't keep Christmas anymore. HOW SHOCKING!!! We haven't kept Christmas for over a decade in this household.
"Still," I prayed, "there must be SOMETHING that I could share with people to make them think about the Lord instead of getting presents and listening for Santa Claus this night."
Just then one of my favorite radio preachers came on Rejoice Radio. His name is Russell Kelfer and, although he lives in Heaven now, I value hearing his thoughts daily. Well he wrote this story years ago I guess. Every year around Christmas time, they play it on Rejoice and we love it every time we get to hear it.
"I sure wish that I could share that with the folks out there," I thought. That was when Jacob checked for me and sure enough he found it on-line. So you see, God DOES answer some prayers with a, "Yes" immediately. I pray that you'll be as blessed with this story as we are each year. I'll post a couple chapters every day until it's finished. The most wonderful thing about this time of year to me, is that people take the time to think about each other a little bit more than they usually do.
I hope that you'll be blessed by this story of a little country town in the hills who were fortunate enough to have a pastor who taught people the truth about their need for a Savior. I just love how the Lord works to show people that He loves them no matter how hard they try to convince Him that they don't care a hoot about Him. Thanks for coming down here, Lord, and thanks for making a way for us to find peace with you and ourselves!!!
Peace to all this night,
Dawn
Ethel's Amazing Umbrella
CHAPTER ONE
What a difference a day makes! In the case of the little town of Forest Grove that day was Christmas day, a Christmas day so unlike any other they had ever celebrated that the whole town looks back on it as though it were their birthday.They refer to it lovingly as the "Day that Grandpa Was Born", for it was on that cold, icy December afternoon that Grandpa Billy Simpson stood up in a called meeting in the church house and poured fuel on an already simmering fire that was rapidly spreading into life after life in Forest Grove.
Having called that now famous meeting himself, Grandpa Billy's sole intent was to fire the Rev. Thompson and replace him with someone a bit more traditional, someone who could restore the "status quo" at the little church and stop this insane preachin' on "heaven and hell" and bein' "born over" (as his grandson Bobby called it).His grandson Bobby, incidentally, just happened to be the spark that started this blaze of evangelical enthusiasm in Forest Grove.
It seems that one cold, November afternoon, little Bobby paid the parson a call to talk to him about the condition of his soul. What took place began as a comedy of errors, and after a few dozen calamities had left the Parson with a broken leg, and his house a shambles, little Bobby got down to the business at hand, and that business included asking Jesus to come into his life.
Well, that sort of thing just didn't go on in Forest Grove; at least not before the Rev. Thompson arrived, and now our newly "born over" Bobby began behaving like a totally different boy; a fact few people would dispute, but even fewer seemed to understand.Old Doc Forsythe was the next to follow suit. As he was bandaging the good Parson's leg, he began to ponder the issues of spiritual life, and soon the old doctor was praying, asking Jesus into his life too!
Before long there was a rumbling of spiritual freshness in Forest Grove that Grandpa Billy just couldn't handle.So he had called a meeting for Christmas day to give the parson a special yuletide gift, a one-way ticket out of town. That was his plan, anyway.But between the time Grandpa called the meetin' and the time the folks gathered that frosty December 25th, something happened to Grandpa. Something happened, indeed.And what happened made that church meetin' the event of the century in Forest Grove, and Christmas day became such a time of celebration that people from all over came down just to see a town that counted Christmas it's birthday. And those who came down were never disappointed.
What happened that Sunday that so changed the course of Forest Grove was this: As Grandpa Billy stood up to ask the good parson to leave, he astonished the congregation by announcing that he had asked Jesus into his heart, too. And as his gleeful grandson Bobby tore up the Pastor's letter of resignation, Grandpa asked if there might be anyone else in that little church that Christmas day who had missed the meaning of Christmas (and the meaning of life, the way he had).
The ensuing service that went on for some two hours was an experience no one could have planned; no one, that is, but God. Folks who had been feudin' for years wrapped their arms around each other and asked each other's forgiveness.Folks who had been the pillars of the church got up from their pews and literally stood in line to ask the Reverend Thompson how they could be "born over" too.
Before long, little pockets of people were scattered all over that auditorium on their knees askin' Jesus to come into their lives.Pretty soon a song service broke out and you could all but hear the rocks in that old stone building start to shout with joy. They were the same songs they'd always sung in the Forest Grove Church. But my, my, how different they sounded.
Mrs. Peabody, horn-rimmed glasses in place, sat down at the organ as usual, but about half-way through the first song, she went down and talked to Grandpa and Bobby, too. Then big old tears began to form in the old lady's eyes and she knelt down to pray.When she got up and went back to the organ, she started pullin' out stops that hadn't been pulled in half a century . . . and music came out of those dusty pipes you'd have sworn was sent air mail from heaven.
When the service finally ended about five in the afternoon, the people poured out into the village still singing "Blest Be The Tie That Binds", and faces stained with tears were wrapped in smiles so wide they virtually stretched from one ear to the other.It was Christmas Day in Forest Grove, and Jesus Christ had just been invited into so many hearts, no one even bothered to count them. It was Christmas day, indeed.
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CHAPTER TWO
Five years have passed now since that eventful December 25th so lovingly called "The Day that Grandpa was Born". Five long years. Five winters have come and gone, along with all the isolation and solitude that seems to blanket the countryside in layers of ice and snow.Five summers have come and gone, too, along with the frenzied activity that characterizes a town that tries to get a year's work done in seven months.
As is always the case, nothing has stood still in those five years in Forest Grove. Well, almost nothing. It's late December, as we wind our way through those ice-caked highways that twist and turn over Forest Creek, alongside Cloverdale, past River City, and now we begin to ascend into those majestic mountains, so much of the time painted white by the hand of God, carefully etched in ice and snow. And coasting past the tree-lined entrance into the village, we see come into view a little town that seems to have been preserved in ice from a century past; quaint, quiet, and almost obvious in its absence of life's more modern conveniences.
At the top of the hill stands the village's only stop light. Oh, it really wasn't needed. That's why the town's only policeman made sure that it only "blinked" off and on. That way it wouldn't really inconvenience anyone. But it stood as a reminder that Forest Grove could be just as modern as the next town . . . well, almost.
Just a half-block north of "the" traffic light, is Grandpa Billy's Drug Store. In one window is a Christmas tree, perfectly shaped, with tiny-twinkling blue lights flashing off and on. A banner draped above it reads, "Happy Birthday Jesus". In the other window, is a huge replica of a birthday cake, and a sign that says, "Happy Birthday Forest Grove". A bit unusual, you'd have to admit . . . but then Forest Grove has turned out to be an unusual town to say the least.
You can park anywhere you like on Main street. The street is lined with what appear to be antiquated parking meters. They appear to be because they are . . . . they haven't been checked in about twelve years, but Mayor Forrestal seems to think they add a touch of "class" to the street, and about once a month, some unknowing stranger goes and puts a dime in one. It never gets emptied, but it gives the home folks standin' by a bit of a chuckle. "Another visitor just paid his dues," they'll laugh, and they'll mosey on their way.
Once inside Grandpa Billy's drugstore, you see what appears to be a perfect replica of an old-fashioned pharmacy, only this is no replica. This is the real thing. If Grandpa Billy's there, the first thing you see is a smile so big you can't help but think those wrinkles on his leathery face are gonna break in two.
"Hi, stranger," he's likely to greet you, "Welcome to Forest Grove. You passin' through? Or are you just plum lost?" With that, he'll more often than not point to the old aluminum coffee pot in the corner that's resting not so securely on a turn of the century hot plate. It's sending out an aroma of fresh perked coffee so tantalizing, it would send Mrs. Olsen into a coffee fit.And should you take the time to join him for a cup, chances are that within a half hour or so, the kindly old druggist will ask you if you happen to know a friend of his.
You'll imagine he means someone from back in Thorndale where you grew up, but what he's leadin' up to is a question about whether or not you've ever met his best friend, Jesus. And should you so much as express a casual interest, you'd best take off your coat and set a spell, for Grandpa the druggist is fixin' to become Grandpa the evangelist. You just can't imagine the number of strangers who have entered Forest Grove with no consciousness at all of eternity, and driven out the other side with a new Bible in their hand, and a new Saviour in their heart.And to top it all off, the zealous old Grandpa knows that the minute he walks back behind the counter after his evangelistic encounter, he's gonna get a sermon or two of his own.
For just behind the drug counter, almost lost in a sea of pills and powders is Grandpa's dimunitive childhood sweetheart, and wife of 41 years, Ethel Simpson.Ethel stands about five feet two inches tall in high heels (which she never wears) and she wouldn't weigh 100 lbs. if she had on a concrete overcoat.Her hair, about the color of that antique coffee pot in the corner, is swept back into a knot on the top of her head, and any time, day or night, she looks like she's all dressed up to go to church, (though she seldom does).
Whenever you see Ethel, every hair's in place, and every bit of clothing is matched; that's quite a contrast to grandpa's wardrobe which looks like it came from the reject pile outside the Salvation Army store up the road at Duncanville. But don't let Ethel's size lure you into thinkin' she pulls no weight in the Simpson household. Beneath her steel blue eyes and gracious smile, Ethel Simpson is the proud owner of an iron will.
Raised on a farm outside River City, just up the road, the oldest of six kids, Ethel Moorehouse, as she was known before she married, lived a life of suffering and hardship. Her mom died when she was in her teens, and for the next ten years of her life, Ethel raised the rest of the clan as though she were their mother. Her Dad died when she turned twenty, and for those final years at home, she was both ma and pa to the whole family; not to mention housekeeper, farm hand, bookkeeper, nurse, policeman, and plumber . . . and all on the grand sum of about $300 a month.
"A woman can do whatever she makes up her mind to," she would often philosophize, adding, "Nobody's gonna give you nothin' in this world; life's only gonna give you what you go out and get."And her self-reliant philosophy saw two doctors, a lawyer, and a captain in the army emerge from that dingy farmhouse at the edge of River City, as she motivated her brothers and sisters with the crown of her philosophical gems: "God helps those who help themselves," uttered with such authority you'd think she coined the phrase herself. "That's in the Bible, you know," Ethel would modestly add, thinking for sure it really was.
So Ethel was no pint-sized pushover. Beneath that immaculate ball of grey on her head was an IQ that was off the charts and a will that was virtually immovable.She and grandpa make quite a pair. She's a democrat; he's a republican. She's a liberal; he's a conservative. She likes chicken and blueberry pie; he can't stand either one of them . . . and on and on it goes.But for all their incompatibilities, they're inseparable. In fact, their bantering back and forth about their assorted philosophical and political differences seems only to deepen their affections for one another.
There was always, however, at least one thing Billy and Ethel agreed on. It was religion; that is, at least until five years ago. Because up until that fateful Christmas day when Grandpa went and got "born over", he and Ethel raised their kids with Ethel's "God helps them that helps" philosophy, the undertone of which was a basic belief that religion is like cod liver oil; useful if not taken too frequently or in doses larger than necessary.
Grandpa Billy, in years past, had scarcely ever missed a church service, but only because he wanted to be sure nothin' happened that he didn't approve of. Grandma Ethel, meanwhile, saw goin' to church as a misuse of time that could be better spent feedin' the hogs and picklin' pears. (Except, of course, for Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter, when, as she piously expressed it, "A Christian ought to pay their respects to God.") So you can just imagine the strain that's developed these past five years since Grandpa got "born over" and told the whole world about it that Christmas afternoon at the little church in Forest Grove.
That strain has been compounded just a bit by the change that's taken place in Melba Peabody, Ethel's best friend for the last thirty years. Melba's the church organist, and it was her conversion that sparked the sudden change of tempo in the music that Christmas day, and it has sparked a change of tempo in her life as well.
Now Melba's not quite as "preachy" as Grandpa. She has taken care to maintain her close friendship with Ethel, and while she often talks about answered prayers and her time alone with God, she always does it in such a way as to provoke Ethel to curiosity, rather than to anger.
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Wednesday, October 28, 2009
MC3--Day 12
Yesterday was day 12 on the Master Cleanse and a pretty stable one for me considering that it had been 15 days since I'd put any solid food in my mouth. I felt pretty good after I zapped. You see I realized that I hadn't zapped for 2 days and that's most likely why I was feeling so achy. An hour's worth of zapping and a BodyTalk session later, I was as good as new. :)
Have you ever had the experience that something is helping with your health and then you feel so good that you drop it? Later, when you start to hurt again you realize, "Well, DA, I quite doing X and that's probably why my symptoms have come back." You know for sure that it was the thing that was helping when you start up again and, lo and behold, the problem disappears.
That's what happens every time I stop zapping for a little while. I think the reason that it helps me so much is because the goats are continually plagued with parasites. For about 10 minutes one day I pondered selling all of the goats because of this. When I thought of my life without my goats, though, my spirits took a drastic plunge and I knew that I would just have to keep dealing with the parasites instead. I just cannot see how I could ever live without the calming influence of milking my goats twice a day. I also know that I couldn't live without my goat's MILK. Since I started drinking goat's milk every day 11 years ago, my continual respiratory and digestive problems have disappeared--but that's another story.
Well, I went out yesterday with my camera, as it was the sunniest day that we've had in awhile. Our men are cleaning the manure out of the lot across the road now. Being all of the cows were fed in there last Fall, when we got an early blizzard, there was a LOT of manure which is soooo good for next year's crops. Anyway, they had picked up a bunch of baler twine in the tines of the manure spreaders so in these pictures Robert and Andrew are cutting out the twine so that the tines can do a good job of throwing the precious stuff far and wide.
Have you ever had the experience that something is helping with your health and then you feel so good that you drop it? Later, when you start to hurt again you realize, "Well, DA, I quite doing X and that's probably why my symptoms have come back." You know for sure that it was the thing that was helping when you start up again and, lo and behold, the problem disappears.
That's what happens every time I stop zapping for a little while. I think the reason that it helps me so much is because the goats are continually plagued with parasites. For about 10 minutes one day I pondered selling all of the goats because of this. When I thought of my life without my goats, though, my spirits took a drastic plunge and I knew that I would just have to keep dealing with the parasites instead. I just cannot see how I could ever live without the calming influence of milking my goats twice a day. I also know that I couldn't live without my goat's MILK. Since I started drinking goat's milk every day 11 years ago, my continual respiratory and digestive problems have disappeared--but that's another story.
Well, I went out yesterday with my camera, as it was the sunniest day that we've had in awhile. Our men are cleaning the manure out of the lot across the road now. Being all of the cows were fed in there last Fall, when we got an early blizzard, there was a LOT of manure which is soooo good for next year's crops. Anyway, they had picked up a bunch of baler twine in the tines of the manure spreaders so in these pictures Robert and Andrew are cutting out the twine so that the tines can do a good job of throwing the precious stuff far and wide.
Here's a closeup view. I told Robert that he was getting his new gloves dirty so he handed me the knife. PE-U
When I got in the house, I also found Jacob hard at work. It doesn't really look like it, does it? However, he was shopping for Andrew's birthday present. I arrived just in time to hear him exclaim with delight, "This is it! Come and look at it mom." OH YES--IT WAS DEFINITELY IT!! Andrew will love it but, of course, I cannot say what IT is. You'll have to wait a few more weeks for November 12th. :)
Well, it's been a good day so far. Robert took the boys up to Bismarck to buy some more calves and to look at shotguns. He wants to buy them both a shotgun for their birthdays. We have never been able to give such grand birthday presents to our children. However, when we gave Cora her new laptop in March, Robert said to me, "I want to do something big for the boys this year too." Now that we're into shooting more around here, perhaps an interest in hunting will emerge. We haven't wanted for any birds, seeing as we raise chickens, turkeys, and geese. Still, I've had some pheasant breast a time or two that was just delicious. OH MY, NOW WHY DID I GO AND THINK ABOUT FOOD???????????
I thought that this picture looked so cool--father and son Internationals and manure spreaders. Andrew told me that the little one holds 175 bushels of manure and the big one 400 bushels. Can you imagine us trying to haul all of that out by hand? The guys made good progress on the lot, but dark came before they had finished. Now this morning it was raining so that threw a wrench in their plans to finish today. Might as well go to Bismarck. :)
As I headed back to the house yesterday morning, I saw some green on my deck and went over to investigate. I could hardly believe that my snapdragon was still alive! Goodness, we've had snow several times already. I gave it a kiss and a good drink of water and admired God's never-ending mysteries.
When I got in the house, I found my daughter cracking eggs to make ice cream for the birthday parties we have coming up. I thought it was pretty amazing that she had the courage to make ice cream when she isn't eating. She said, though, that the cream will sour if we don't get it used up now. WOW, Cora, thanks soooooooooooo much--that's one thing that we can scratch off the TO-DO list before you leave for the wedding.
Here are 3 quarts of our wonderful home-milked; home-separated; and home-bottled cream ready to be whipped and stirred into ice cream. Be sure to check the recipe on Cora's blog as it is sooooooo easy to make!
It was a diary day for Cora as she made this mozzarella cheese too. It LOOKED so scrumptious on the home made pizza that the guys ate for supper. I just couldn't look, so I turned my back to the table and read with gusto. Did I tell you that we're reading the Balentine book THE YOUNG FUR TRADERS now?
It was truly an awesome chapter for distracting one's mind from home-made pizza with home-made cheese on top. The trapper that Charley is working with turns out to be the lost trapper whose wife Redfeather tried to keep from being murdered by Misconna several years earlier. Of course, now Misconna tried to kill Redfeather on the river but he failed last night--thank God. In case you're wondering why I said all of that, it's to wet your appetite to pick up a Balentine book and started reading out load to the family--especially if you have boys.
When I got in the house, I also found Jacob hard at work. It doesn't really look like it, does it? However, he was shopping for Andrew's birthday present. I arrived just in time to hear him exclaim with delight, "This is it! Come and look at it mom." OH YES--IT WAS DEFINITELY IT!! Andrew will love it but, of course, I cannot say what IT is. You'll have to wait a few more weeks for November 12th. :)
Well, it's been a good day so far. Robert took the boys up to Bismarck to buy some more calves and to look at shotguns. He wants to buy them both a shotgun for their birthdays. We have never been able to give such grand birthday presents to our children. However, when we gave Cora her new laptop in March, Robert said to me, "I want to do something big for the boys this year too." Now that we're into shooting more around here, perhaps an interest in hunting will emerge. We haven't wanted for any birds, seeing as we raise chickens, turkeys, and geese. Still, I've had some pheasant breast a time or two that was just delicious. OH MY, NOW WHY DID I GO AND THINK ABOUT FOOD???????????
Still coveting your prayers,
Dawn
Monday, October 19, 2009
Master Cleanse 3--Day 3--a rough one
It looks as though I'll be posting the day after things have happened while on this 3rd Master Cleanse. I really wanted to write on the day of the Master Cleanse, while things are fresh in my mind, but I was utterly exhausted yesterday. It clearly was a case of adrenal fatigue. Let me tell you what happened.
It was such a beautiful day yesterday and, after chores in the morning, we all met in the garden to finish cleaning it off. The children picked the popcorn and Robert and I cleaned off the squashes and Robert carried most of them to the goats to be fed later. Cora went around and picked seeds from the marigolds and love-in-a-mist flowers so that we'll be able to have flowers next year no matter what happens to the economy.
The guys helped me assemble a fall display out by the old 2 bottom plow by the driveway. It was kind of funny that last year Cora helped me and now they did. It was pleasant to have them take an interest in my annual Fall project. We laughed that last Winter one of the cows got out and ate all of the corn stalks instead of running down the road. Is that why they were motivated to help me? Who knows but God. We run 90% of the time out of our subconscious minds where everything is a mystery.
Being Cora and I are on the Master Cleanse now we try not to watch the guys while they're eating. Cora shelled out the seeds while I read our newest Balentine book, THE YOUNG FUR TRADERS to the guys over lunch. My chapter was finished and they were still eating so I thought I'd hang out the load of laundry that was ready. When I work out in the garden, my hands always get so sore and chapped, so I put on some lotion before doing so.
The day was so lovely that my spirits were light as I headed out to the line the load. I was cheerfully hanging up some washcloths when I noticed a honeybee on the handle of the basket. Now you must remember that I had to have almost 750 bee stings to save my life when the shingles on my brain shut down my immune system. I was a little irritated to see the bee there but, "Oh well, the world is big enough for all of God's creatures," I thought and kept hanging up strain cloths.
However, when I turned back to the basket the next time, I noticed that there were 4 bees sitting on the cloths. "HMM," I thought, "what a weird place to hold a meeting."
I prayed for courage to put my hand into the basket and pulled out another washcloth. The bees buzzed a little at me, but I was still ok. The next time that I turned back for more wet things, I noticed that more bees had come and I started to feel a little nervous about grabbing something from the basket. Still, I thought, "This is ridiculous--they're minding their own business and I'll mind mine."
The problem came when they no longer decided to mind their own business. I took one more dishrag out of the basket and the bees got VERY interested in ME. They got all stirred up and one of them came over and landed on my leg. I screamed to the Lord for help and brushed him off of my leg with the dishrag. I was crying by then but the Lord helped me to see where it was in the grass. I stomped on him but noticed that other bees were coming towards me so I dropped the dishrag and ran for the house.
I was sobbing like mad when I got here, as a dam of old memories had broken loose, and I told Robert that the bees were after me. He went out then and I headed for my room totally unable to collect myself. I threw myself on my bed hysterical and begging God to help me. Slowly it registered that I had the tools to deal with this kind of trauma so I sat up and did BodyTalk's Active Memory procedure. By the time I had finished, I was about half calmed-down.
Then I felt the Lord urging me to do the Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT). The concept was, "Even though I had to have bee stings to save my life, I still love, trust, and and accept God's will for my life." The phrase that got tapped into each acupuncture site was "BVT," which is bee venom therapy abbreviated.
This really calmed me down a lot and I did cortices after this and felt almost glad that it had happened. You see, I came to realize that I had all of that emotion tied up in bees. Bees reminded me of all the pain that I went through in 2006 with the shingles on my brain. I haven't been able to tolerate being that close to bees ever since and I guess God decided that it was time to release all of that pent-up anguish. WOW--IT WAS LIKE A TIDAL WAVE.
Well, after I was calmed down, I went outside with the boys to tell them how and where I wanted my tulip bulbs planted. I had every intention of helping them with the work as it was so lovely outside and I wanted to do the planting as it was my desire to carry on my grandmother's tradition of growing tulips.
Well, no sooner had I gotten down on my knees to work in the flower bed when a bee came straight up to me. UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH. I tried to ignore it like the first time, but when it came straight at my face, I freaked out. It landed on my hood and Jacob shooshed it away. Soon there were more bees coming at me again and then I had a flashback to when I had gone out to our hives to collect some bees in quart jars for the BVT. At that time, the bees landed on my netting over my cap and stung me through it.
I was glad that Jacob was nearby yesterday to help me back to the house as I was crying all over again. Jacob said to me, "You're going to have to get over this mom, cuz you can't live your whole life in the house." ):
Well, I did cortices again and started writing the post that I posted yesterday. Writing just always makes me feel better for some reason. I was glad that I had worked it through in the morning but why was I so upset when it happened again in the afternoon? This was the thought that I was trying to process as I wrote. I had just landed on this thought, "I guess the Lord just wanted me to get rid of all of that old emotional junk during the Master Cleanse. But why," I pondered, "did He have the bees go after me a second time when I had already worked through much of it?" I don't want to live in fear of bees all my life!!!!!!!!!!!
Just then Cora came in the house for she had been out picking more seeds from the garden. She asked me, "Mom, when did you put that lavender lotion on your hands? Could it be that the bees were attracted to the lotion that you'd put on? and did you put it on your face?"
YES--THAT WAS IT!!! I had just run out of my coconut oil hand lotion and switched to the lavender one. Right before I went out to the wash line, I'd put some on my hands and face and the bees must have thought that I smelled like the lavender blossoms. They went right for my hands and my face and the handle of the laundry basket.
Our hunch was confirmed when I brought in the laundry last night. There wasn't a single bee on any of the towels etc. hanging up there. They weren't after the laundry (new laundry detergent was our first guess). They really were after ME because I smelled like a flower!!!!!!!!
Now, you may think I'm a silly goose but I've come to see by thinking this through, that many emotions that I dealt with as I wondered if I would live or die were wrapped up in with the bee stings. I guess the Lord knew that I was now strong enough to let all of that go.
WOW--it was a terrible ordeal for me but now I am glad that it all came out instead of staying inside of me and keeping me fearful. I firmly believe that I needed to have taken Module 3 first so that I would understand how to process all of this emotion.
Later on I did a distance session with a lady who is VERY ill. Many of the links from Module 3 came up and I had a fresh understanding of what this lady is facing as she wonders if she will pull through or not. It's more than a little terrifying as you face this question, "I wonder if it's time for me to go to Heaven now?"
This is the same lady who did cranio-sacral therapy on me the week before I went to the health center. She is a Godly lady and I can very vividly recall her saying to me in September of 2006, "The Lord is telling me to tell you that if you don't rest for 2 or 3 weeks, you're not going to make it." She also said that day, "Who knows, maybe someday you will look back on this as the best thing that ever happened to you."
I recall throwing daggers at her then and she restated it this way, "Maybe someday you will be able to think of all of this pain in a good light in that it will help you to be able to understand what others are going through." Well, she was RIGHT!!! and yesterday I was able to be a blessing to her in return. PRAISE THE LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, half way through chores last night it hit me. It was the quickest case of adrenal fatigue I've ever experienced but my adrenals wore themselves out in that avalanche of emotions in the afternoon. I could hardly walk myself to the house and crawled in bed at 8:30. I slept like a rock with a peace that I may have never known if God hadn't released all of that old rubbish through use of those awful bees.
So, am I glad that it happened? Yes, but I'm still kind of shaky today so I would appreciate your prayers. Elizabeth, my BodyTalk practitioner, said that she'll work me into her busy schedule for she knows more than anybody how much I have been through in the past 3 years. Praise God for friends who pray and for friends who know how to do BodyTalk. Putting the 2 together is such an awesome combination that a person can't help but get fully well--which is my longest standing prayer request covering decades. Every day brings me a little bit closer! PRAISE GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was such a beautiful day yesterday and, after chores in the morning, we all met in the garden to finish cleaning it off. The children picked the popcorn and Robert and I cleaned off the squashes and Robert carried most of them to the goats to be fed later. Cora went around and picked seeds from the marigolds and love-in-a-mist flowers so that we'll be able to have flowers next year no matter what happens to the economy.
The guys helped me assemble a fall display out by the old 2 bottom plow by the driveway. It was kind of funny that last year Cora helped me and now they did. It was pleasant to have them take an interest in my annual Fall project. We laughed that last Winter one of the cows got out and ate all of the corn stalks instead of running down the road. Is that why they were motivated to help me? Who knows but God. We run 90% of the time out of our subconscious minds where everything is a mystery.
Being Cora and I are on the Master Cleanse now we try not to watch the guys while they're eating. Cora shelled out the seeds while I read our newest Balentine book, THE YOUNG FUR TRADERS to the guys over lunch. My chapter was finished and they were still eating so I thought I'd hang out the load of laundry that was ready. When I work out in the garden, my hands always get so sore and chapped, so I put on some lotion before doing so.
The day was so lovely that my spirits were light as I headed out to the line the load. I was cheerfully hanging up some washcloths when I noticed a honeybee on the handle of the basket. Now you must remember that I had to have almost 750 bee stings to save my life when the shingles on my brain shut down my immune system. I was a little irritated to see the bee there but, "Oh well, the world is big enough for all of God's creatures," I thought and kept hanging up strain cloths.
However, when I turned back to the basket the next time, I noticed that there were 4 bees sitting on the cloths. "HMM," I thought, "what a weird place to hold a meeting."
I prayed for courage to put my hand into the basket and pulled out another washcloth. The bees buzzed a little at me, but I was still ok. The next time that I turned back for more wet things, I noticed that more bees had come and I started to feel a little nervous about grabbing something from the basket. Still, I thought, "This is ridiculous--they're minding their own business and I'll mind mine."
The problem came when they no longer decided to mind their own business. I took one more dishrag out of the basket and the bees got VERY interested in ME. They got all stirred up and one of them came over and landed on my leg. I screamed to the Lord for help and brushed him off of my leg with the dishrag. I was crying by then but the Lord helped me to see where it was in the grass. I stomped on him but noticed that other bees were coming towards me so I dropped the dishrag and ran for the house.
I was sobbing like mad when I got here, as a dam of old memories had broken loose, and I told Robert that the bees were after me. He went out then and I headed for my room totally unable to collect myself. I threw myself on my bed hysterical and begging God to help me. Slowly it registered that I had the tools to deal with this kind of trauma so I sat up and did BodyTalk's Active Memory procedure. By the time I had finished, I was about half calmed-down.
Then I felt the Lord urging me to do the Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT). The concept was, "Even though I had to have bee stings to save my life, I still love, trust, and and accept God's will for my life." The phrase that got tapped into each acupuncture site was "BVT," which is bee venom therapy abbreviated.
This really calmed me down a lot and I did cortices after this and felt almost glad that it had happened. You see, I came to realize that I had all of that emotion tied up in bees. Bees reminded me of all the pain that I went through in 2006 with the shingles on my brain. I haven't been able to tolerate being that close to bees ever since and I guess God decided that it was time to release all of that pent-up anguish. WOW--IT WAS LIKE A TIDAL WAVE.
Well, after I was calmed down, I went outside with the boys to tell them how and where I wanted my tulip bulbs planted. I had every intention of helping them with the work as it was so lovely outside and I wanted to do the planting as it was my desire to carry on my grandmother's tradition of growing tulips.
Well, no sooner had I gotten down on my knees to work in the flower bed when a bee came straight up to me. UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH. I tried to ignore it like the first time, but when it came straight at my face, I freaked out. It landed on my hood and Jacob shooshed it away. Soon there were more bees coming at me again and then I had a flashback to when I had gone out to our hives to collect some bees in quart jars for the BVT. At that time, the bees landed on my netting over my cap and stung me through it.
I was glad that Jacob was nearby yesterday to help me back to the house as I was crying all over again. Jacob said to me, "You're going to have to get over this mom, cuz you can't live your whole life in the house." ):
Well, I did cortices again and started writing the post that I posted yesterday. Writing just always makes me feel better for some reason. I was glad that I had worked it through in the morning but why was I so upset when it happened again in the afternoon? This was the thought that I was trying to process as I wrote. I had just landed on this thought, "I guess the Lord just wanted me to get rid of all of that old emotional junk during the Master Cleanse. But why," I pondered, "did He have the bees go after me a second time when I had already worked through much of it?" I don't want to live in fear of bees all my life!!!!!!!!!!!
Just then Cora came in the house for she had been out picking more seeds from the garden. She asked me, "Mom, when did you put that lavender lotion on your hands? Could it be that the bees were attracted to the lotion that you'd put on? and did you put it on your face?"
YES--THAT WAS IT!!! I had just run out of my coconut oil hand lotion and switched to the lavender one. Right before I went out to the wash line, I'd put some on my hands and face and the bees must have thought that I smelled like the lavender blossoms. They went right for my hands and my face and the handle of the laundry basket.
Our hunch was confirmed when I brought in the laundry last night. There wasn't a single bee on any of the towels etc. hanging up there. They weren't after the laundry (new laundry detergent was our first guess). They really were after ME because I smelled like a flower!!!!!!!!
Now, you may think I'm a silly goose but I've come to see by thinking this through, that many emotions that I dealt with as I wondered if I would live or die were wrapped up in with the bee stings. I guess the Lord knew that I was now strong enough to let all of that go.
WOW--it was a terrible ordeal for me but now I am glad that it all came out instead of staying inside of me and keeping me fearful. I firmly believe that I needed to have taken Module 3 first so that I would understand how to process all of this emotion.
Later on I did a distance session with a lady who is VERY ill. Many of the links from Module 3 came up and I had a fresh understanding of what this lady is facing as she wonders if she will pull through or not. It's more than a little terrifying as you face this question, "I wonder if it's time for me to go to Heaven now?"
This is the same lady who did cranio-sacral therapy on me the week before I went to the health center. She is a Godly lady and I can very vividly recall her saying to me in September of 2006, "The Lord is telling me to tell you that if you don't rest for 2 or 3 weeks, you're not going to make it." She also said that day, "Who knows, maybe someday you will look back on this as the best thing that ever happened to you."
I recall throwing daggers at her then and she restated it this way, "Maybe someday you will be able to think of all of this pain in a good light in that it will help you to be able to understand what others are going through." Well, she was RIGHT!!! and yesterday I was able to be a blessing to her in return. PRAISE THE LORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyway, half way through chores last night it hit me. It was the quickest case of adrenal fatigue I've ever experienced but my adrenals wore themselves out in that avalanche of emotions in the afternoon. I could hardly walk myself to the house and crawled in bed at 8:30. I slept like a rock with a peace that I may have never known if God hadn't released all of that old rubbish through use of those awful bees.
So, am I glad that it happened? Yes, but I'm still kind of shaky today so I would appreciate your prayers. Elizabeth, my BodyTalk practitioner, said that she'll work me into her busy schedule for she knows more than anybody how much I have been through in the past 3 years. Praise God for friends who pray and for friends who know how to do BodyTalk. Putting the 2 together is such an awesome combination that a person can't help but get fully well--which is my longest standing prayer request covering decades. Every day brings me a little bit closer! PRAISE GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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