Jean's Blog

She was faithful, fearless and strong. At least in my eyes.

Known as mama to me and my sisters, Jean to others and nanny to her grandkids, she always knew how to make you laugh. When life handed her lemons (as it often did), she made lemonade and invited everyone over to sit a spell.

Particularly fond of Aunt Sis, I think a part of mama died when she did. They were bosom buddies; had no secrets and supported each other as they traversed through their respective lives of abuse.

Back then, daddy drank a lot. An addiction he overcame in his late 40s. The physical abuse stopped, but breaking the verbal and emotional abuse was much more difficult.

It must have been when mama got the first negative report back from the oncologist about the seriousness of her breast cancer that daddy softened up on her a bit.

My sisters were mama’s saving grace. They took leave of their lives and stayed with her for months on end, during her early chemotherapy and radiation treatments that followed her radical mastectomy.

I lived nearly 1500 miles away and worked full-time. I was unable to make the commitment to be there on rotation. By the time I got to visit, well, things had gotten worse; much worse. The cancer had metastasized to the brain, lungs and every other part of her precious, broken body.

Grace was personified through her as she sat quietly in the living room as life went on around her.

There was yelling and arguing, combined with every imaginable fear spewing from the mouths of loved ones. I remember wondering:

“Mama what is going on in your mind right now?” “When will you find that blessed peace and relief from all the pain of a broken life that you lived so perfectly in front of us and others.”

That same night was to be the last words I ever spoke to mama before she died. She had been taken to bed and I went to her side. Our one-sided conversation was brief, but meaningful.

“Mama, you know that old body is just the suitcase for your soul. It’s tired and worn out. But your soul will live on in eternity. I love you, and will see you on the other side.”

She smiled, patted my hand and nodded.

Three weeks later, I got the call at 3:30 a.m. that she had passed into eternity. I was already awake, as the Lord so graciously allowed me to know she was healed. Not as man considered healed, but she had won the fight. The fight for her soul–an eternity in Heaven with Jesus.

While mama lost the battle to breast cancer, great is her reward today.

I close with two things for your consideration.

1. Obey the Holy Bible’s plan for salvation found in Acts 2:38. You will seal your eternity with Jesus. (Both mama and daddy did before passing away).
2. Early detection can save your life. Get a yearly mammogram.

God’s Blessings ~ Debra

photo: creative commons|flickr|audreyyjm529

After youth service one Friday night some 13 years ago as we went about cleaning up and clearing the pews, I came across a note. In short, it said:

Dear ____

I sure wish I could be like you all, but I am a bad girl. I have done bad things and am dirty. I wish I could fit in, but I know I cannot. So I won’t even try. Thank you for inviting me here tonight. I will find another way home.

Love ______

My heart hurt so bad I thought I may be having a heart attack. It ached for this little girl who was beautiful and offered a shy smile, as she lowered her eyes when greeting.

Immediately I sought the girl who invited her. She was about with her friends-click. I asked her if she had read this note and she replied: “Yeah!”

Silence. Then she said “What?” Silence. “What? What is the problem?” she asked more desperately.

I asked if she knew where the girl was, and her response was a flat, but somewhat embarrassed “No.”

Offering a quick excuse: “Well didn’t you read the note? She got another way home.” I embraced the young girl, who by this time was crying, and I joined her. We must have wept for 30 minutes asking God to protect our fragile visitor and to forgive us for our arrogance.

I heard from the visiting girl recently and she is all but homeless, wandering aimlessly from place to place. She is without her children, family and God. There exists a blank stare in her deep brown eyes. It seems the fragile little girl of 13 years ago had been broken several times. And now, she is cracking again, ready to break, without hope.

I offered to help in any way I could. Food, shelter, clothes and warmth. She doesn’t trust anyone with her life or emotions now. Sadly, I am not sure what the end of her story will be, but God does.

Could it be that we get so caught up in our own groups “in church” that we cannot minister to the hurting? Do we unintentionally push them out or turn them away?

Jesus came to seek and save the lost. He asks no less of us. How about it–why not recommit to the commission the Lord commanded unto us:

And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. Mark 16:15

What are you doing to share the gospel of Christ?

Please comment below

As a kid, when it was raining while the sun was shining, my dad used to say: “Well, the devil’s whipping his wife.”

I used to consider it and think “how odd–why would the whole world be able to see that.”

That adage left me thinking that the “devil” was a mean old coot. After all, what man would whip his wife? No one could be that evil, except the bad boy himself.

I admit that I think the devil is evil and a mean old coot. But the whole rainy day and sunshine thing…well, that was just one of my dear ole’ dad’s tales. Nonetheless, it did not take long for me to realize that many, many men whip their wives, and vice-versa.

The innocence of childhood fantasy and ways of thinking, grew into the cruel images implanted in my mind, from watching the aftereffects of spousal abuse first hand.

Not so long ago, it was a hush hush kind of deal when abuse went on in a family. You did not speak of it; you quietly watched, bore and processed it any way you could. You feared, cried and felt ashamed–of what–was never really clear.

Today, things have changed. There are ways to report abuse safely where you can receive counsel and help. It is not something you have to live with, hide or harbor feeling of shame.

If you find yourself in a situation, or know someone who is you can call: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or visit the National Domestic Violence Hotline site. The service is available 24/7.

SIGNS OF ABUSE:

• Shameful or degrading put down’s
• Actions or looks that are intimidating or cause fear
• Control over who you see, talk to or visit
• Keeps your money or allows you not to have money
• Not allowing independent thinking, or input in decisions regarding your life’s situation
• Threatening to hurt you or your children
• Not acknowledging abuse exist or minimizing it
• Trashing your things
• Shoving, slapping, choking or hitting you
• Threatening to commit suicide if you leave or file charges
• Threatening to kill you

Looking out the window the other day, the sun was shining and it began to rain. A time in history flashed before me and I whispered to myself: “somewhere, a devil is whipping his wife.” Don’t let it be you–call today!