I'll Get by with a Little Help from My Friends (part 1)

(Super Seniors)

“Marc…”, I whispered. “...watch the stairs!”

“Hurry up!”, he whispered with laughter.

Rachel, Jen, and myself got in a line. The mission? To run down our school hallway as fast as humanly possible, one after the other, with only a 5 seconds between each of our take offs. Each of us having to launch ourselves like superman on to the couch at the end of the hall and roll off onto the floor before the other person did the same merely seconds later. This may or may not have resulted in injury on occasion, but worth every bruise!

(And we have no clue how the holes behind the couch got there....)

“Oh, my god, you guys are gonna get us into SO much trouble!”, Marc would say nervously EVERY time we did this. (And we did this a lot). Don’t let him fool you though; eventually he abandoned his watch post position and joined in the fun as well! 

The game was Drop and Roll. A very mature and not at all ridiculous activity, us four SENIORS in highschool would play when the teachers would be away with the other students at lunch time in our small private Christian school.

Aside from that, we did very few silly things. We were very respectable, apart from that.
Okay, okay...maybe we would sneak into the teacher's lounge and drink coffee and watch tv, or drive to the taco bell 30 minutes away the the middle of our school day, or….or maybe I shouldn’t put everything we did in a blog (can they revoke your diploma over a decade later??? lol)  What? Come on, there were worse things we could have been doing!

That was one of my favorite years...my senior year. So many memories...so many moments that have carved themselves into my heart and soul for eternity. Things that no one can ever erase or take away from me...from us. Things that will always belong to the four of us, that no one else will ever know or understand. No one.

Myself, Rachel Levick, Jen Braddock, and Marc Bermudez. We were the self proclaimed Super Seniors...and man, did we have the time of our lives that year! Aside from our at school shenanigans, we had out of school ‘Senior Wednesdays’....filling our nights with laughter, and developing bonds that have lasted a lifetime.

We drove our teachers crazy, and I’m sure they were ready for us to graduate and stop torturing them! But I’m so grateful for that little private school/church ‘in the middle of nowhere’, N.J. It brought me these 3 mischievous, hilarious, 1000% genuine people into my life and heart, and I am forever changed because of it.

Rachel’s goodness, silliness, and unconditionally unwavering support and loyalty to me, has created a standard by which I demand to hold myself to when offering my friendship to other people. I don’t have any chapter in the book of my life that hasn’t included her, quite literally from birth. And I don’t intend to write any without her.

Jen came into my life unexpectedly in high school. But we gravitated to each other like a magnet. I think the moment she opened her sassy mouth and I heard the sarcasm spill out I knew….I knew I liked that crazy girl. I knew we were meant to be “us”....I knew she was going to be essential to my story somehow. And I was right. So right.

Marc came into my story broken. Broken, but stronger than almost anyone I know. He had suffered personal losses at such a young age, but showed extreme courage and kindness through his character, that is never to be discredited him. He was, and still is, one of the best men I know. He needed us three girls...and we needed him.

And so, our group was created. We just fell together, the four of us, like a perfectly beautiful mess that made sense to only us...but we were the only ones that ever needed to understand.

Dreams of My Soul Sister

(Rory)                       

    I found myself visiting Rory’s parents one day, as I had several times since Rory passed away. Visiting them proved to be both comforting and hard...comforting, because there is a peace that comes when you surround yourself with people who relate to your sorrow... hard because..well, there is pain when you love someone as strongly as we loved/love Rory...and pain resurfaces in the company of others that remind you of who you lost.  It's a catch 22. 

I knocked on the door, but this time no one answered. I took the liberty to let myself in, making my way passed the living room, and then stopping dead in my tracks in the dining room. Rory  was standing in the kitchen 10 feet from where I was standing! “Wha...how?....How is this happening?”, I whimpered, shaking in terror, “You...you’re gone. Am I dreaming?”.  She didn’t answer, only smiled her sweet, unique underbite of a smile.

To this point in my life, I had been holding it together pretty well, considering one of my best friend's lives had been snuffed out with no explanation at such a young age. I was, since her passing, trying terribly hard to be a source of strength to those around me that were also suffering this huge, unexplained open wound of a loss. I felt emotions everyday...some days extreme sadness...some days anger...some both. But I had yet to have my moment...you know, the one where you allow yourself to melt into the earth like lava with your pain? That moment. It had not yet arrived.

We sat on the couch, her and I...me mostly just staring in disbelief. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back the last time you called me.”, I whispered, “I should have called you back.” 

See...three days before Rory died, she called me out of the blue. This wasn’t a normal occurrence. Although we met and developed our friendship here in NJ, Rory had started a life in Colorado. So, we had monthly phone dates, that were always planned. On the Sunday before she died, she called me. I was just getting home from work, had two hyper kids both speaking to me at the same time, and arms full of groceries when she called. In my flustered state, I wasn’t thinking about how weird it was that she called me randomly.... I was just overwhelmed, and asked her if I could call her back.

I forgot to.

She died two days later.

This has haunted me with guilt ever since.

She didn’t say anything back. She  laid my head into her lap and I cried and wailed and let out everything I had been holding in for so long. She ran her fingers through my hair, kindly and calmingly until I stopped. She leaned over and whisper in my ear, “I’m okay, Kate. And you will be too.”

Then...I woke up. Shaken...but peaceful at the same time. 

Thank you, Rory...for forgiving me. 

Moon Man

(Teddy)

    The tragedy of life, it often seems, is when a person of extreme talent and worth, has a brief life. After losing my friend Rory in October of 2011, my heart was still bleeding. I had never lost a close personal friend like that before, and I knew that I didn’t want to suffer another loss like that again. But life….well, part of life is death. I just didn’t realize it was going to strike me so hard a second time in less than a year.

    Ted walked into the sanctuary doors of the church I grew up in with his family for the first time in 1999. I was drawn to him and his step brother Dan immediately. They had a similar style, and shared the same teenage angst as me. We became fast friends.

    Ted looked like a real life version of Trent Lane from the MTV cartoon series Daria (google it). That is the best way I can describe him! I mean, take out Trent’s earrings, and you have Ted! He was a musician, a beach bum, a singer, a jokester, a cigarette enthusiast, and royal pain!

We had a lot of fun, Ted and I. The kind that probably annoyed other people! Like, going to the board walk and getting free fudge samples from Steels, then walking around the corner, switching around our clothes, and going back for more (as if we were actually convincing anyone that we were different people)! We would do this repeatedly until they were so mad, that they cut us off made us leave! We wanted to see how long it would take for them to crack! But that was us...and I forever love every stupid, ridiculous, simple moment we shared.

My favorite memory of Ted, and the one I hold dearest to my heart, is when for a period of time in 2003, I was living alone in an apartment with my son. Things in my life were not good. In fact, I wasn’t really sure where my life was going at this point. I had not seen Ted for a long time. In fact, to this day, I have NO idea how he even got my address. But one day, I got a knock at the door. I opened it, and there he was...just standing there with a goofy look on his face. I was so surprised, I didn’t even know what to say! I mean, we were friends, but at that point in time we had not seen each other in quite a while, and only spoke on the phone every so often….certainly nothing that would have prepared me for him appearing this way.

“Hey…”, he said...in his quick/short way. “What are you doing here?”, I replied...tears already in my eyes.  He went on to say that he had heard from the grapevine at church, about the challenges I was facing...and he had to find me. I was scared to let him in. Scared because I couldn’t hide from Ted...you know? He could see right through me, and I didn’t want to be vulnerable. What was happening in my life at the time was SO hard, and so painful. I needed to keep it together. I had to be strong for my son. I didn’t want to fall apart or feel what was really happening. Numb was safe. Numb was what I wanted.

    We stepped out on my little terrace and sat on my bench. I wouldn’t make eye contact with him. He knew what I was doing...and he called me out on it. “Woman!”, he shouted, “Look at me, Kate. Look at me.”. He grabbed my chin, turned my head toward him, and forced his forehead on mine, holding it there, no matter how hard I tried to pull away. At that moment, it all came out. Not words, just tears. All the emotions and pain I had been holding in came flooding out, and they flowed until there were none left. He never let me go...the snot and make-up running down my face never mattered to him...he just held me there like that until I was done. It was exactly what I needed, and he knew that. This is what made him so special. Ted only said two things to me before he left that day (this was actually the last time I ever saw him in person). He came in for a quick second and looked at my son taking a nap, and said, “He is beautiful.” And before he got in his car to leave he said, “Beautiful people, don’t deserve tears. Find happiness, Kate.”

After that, Ted moved away for a while...and lived many years of a life away from NJ. But we stayed in touch. We were meant to always stay in each other’s lives in some form, and we always were, no matter where life took us. Our friendship was important to us. He did eventually move back home to NJ, and was very loved by family and friends that were in his life. He battled his own demons, as we all do, but he was a good person. He brought laughter everywhere he went.

In April of 2012, Ted and I spoke on the phone. This wasn’t really a normal thing….we usually  only called on birthdays. He called me out of the blue. I remember immediately thinking something was wrong. He was seemingly fine...but was talking with a different tone than usual. He started saying some things that concerned me….and not what would normally concern a regular person. See...Ted and I joked. All of the time. We were snarky and sarcastic in our banter. It’s who we were. I say, “What up, jerk?”, and he would  reply something like, “Nothing...still ugly. You?” That was the norm for us….but that day, that call….. he was overly serious. The sort of “kind” people are when they are saying goodbye to you forever or something, ya know? I listened...confused, and concerned. “What are you doing?”, I asked. “What do you mean?”, he replied. “This... all this crap you are saying? We don’t do this. Is...is something wrong?”, I stuttered. He was quiet. I was nauseous. “No, Kate...I just wanted to tell you that you I love you, and am grateful for everything you have been to me over the years. Can’t I just say that?”, he asked. Me, remembering the way I have carried regret from not talking to Rory when she had called that last time, decided to just shut up, and listen, and then, when he was done...I told him everything. Everything there was to possibly say. I didn’t want to lose this moment. Not again. I thanked him for his ridiculous jokes, his songs, his transparency. I reminded him how proud I was of him, and how I treasured his heart. I reminded him of how very special he was to God, and how I was grateful that God gifted us each other as friends. “Ted…”, I said. “Yeah…?”, he replied. “You have mattered. You do matter. You will matter.”, I sobbed with tears rolling down my face. “You too, Kate. Everything’s alright, woman. I just wanted you to know what I really felt about you, encase I never said it. Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.”, he ended.  It was a long, emotionally draining conversation, that I will forever be grateful for. 

    Two months later, Ted passed away suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 29 years old.

He mattered.
   

A Mother's Heart (pt. 1)

Matthew Devon - my knight in shimmering armor

    It was a cold day in the winter of 2002. My hands were dry and cracked, wrapped tightly around the steering wheel of my ‘91 Ford Taurus. I was wandering in my car with no direction. I just knew I couldn’t go home yet. I wish I knew exactly what I was thinking about, but my stress level washed it from my memory. I just know I was lost. Not lost in a sense that I didn’t know where I was..I just didn’t know where I was going (in more ways than one). At one point, something took over my steering. Sounds crazy, I know. It didn’t make sense to me either, but my car literally ended up in the parking lot of Chestnut Assembly of God (a church one town over from where I lived). I sat in the parking lot for a while, staring at the big concrete cross that runs the full top to bottom length of the building. It comforted and scared me at the same time. I got out slowly, and started walking toward the entrance way. I didn’t see any other cars in the parking lot, so for all I knew the building was locked...but it wasn’t. I opened the door, but held it open for a few minutes. My hands were shaking, but not from the cold. I knew moment I touched those doors that the presence of God was in this building. I could feel it the second I touched the door, and it made me tremble. During that minute or two in limbo while holding the door, I faced the biggest decision of my life. I needed to step IN or back OUT.

Let me briefly explain my life and challenges at the time before I continue….

When I found out I was pregnant with my son, I wasn’t in anyway prepared to be a mom. I was 19, in an unhealthy relationship, not making good decisions, and was very self destructive. I had attempted suicide once already, and was struggling everyday to choose to be alive. I was lost, and finding comfort in the wrong people and in the wrong things.

That being said...
I wanted him...from the second I found out he existed, and even  though he wasn’t planned...I wanted him! Abortion or adoption NEVER crossed my mind for even a second. I felt very unworthy to be a mom, given the current state of my life, and at that moment... I knew that something had to change.

I had to change.

That cold February morning, I decided to step INTO that church doorway. I looked all around for any sign of another person, but it was just me and God that day.  I walked through the doors of the sanctuary and fell on my face crying out to the Lord. I sobbed the words, “Jesus, help me!”...and I felt the warmth of His presence wrap all around me like a blanket. I felt His love,  forgiveness, and mercy surround me. I felt years of shame, and condemnation fall off of my soul, and I felt a strength and grace that I had never felt before, and I laid in His presence for what felt like hours.  When I got up off that floor, and walked back out of that church, I left a different person than who had walked in.  I resolved that my life was no longer about me….but now about my baby.

    I’d like to tell you that from that point on everything in my life and my circumstances were perfect, but that isn’t the way life works. The devil tried to rob me of Mattie (that’s what I call my son) many times throughout my pregnancy. There was a lot of challenges I was facing in my personal life at the time, and in addition to those stresses I was attending school full time to become a certified Cosmetologist. I owe so much to my parents and sister, who despite all challenges and emotions, were incredibly helpful and supportive to me. They took care of me and prayed for me. I would have never gotten through the pregnancy without them.  I was also very blessed to have had an amazing midwife, that was proactive, knowledgeable and kind, but Mattie wanted out...and he wanted out way too soon. I went into pre-term labor at 18 weeks, 22 weeks, and 30 weeks. However, during all of these difficulties, I kept hearing God say, “I am with you.” And I know He was. He was with us both.

One day in early September, I was getting dressed to go out to dinner with my parents, when my water broke. I knew what was happening, and that it wasn’t something that could be stopped any longer. He was coming early and there was NOTHING further myself or anyone else could do to stop him. On the way to the hospital, I sat in the back seat, my dad was driving, and my mom was in the front passenger seat. It was humid and rainy outside. The roads were gross, and as we were stopped at a red light, the car behind us slammed right into the back of us! I did not have my seatbelt on, so my knees slammed into the back of the front seat really hard. My dad was so concentrated on getting me to the hospital that he didn’t even care about the car! After making sure the person in the car behind us was okay, he hopped right back in and got me to the ER of Bridgeton hospital as quickly as possible! 

After several hours in labor with my midwife by my side, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t feel right. There was something wrong besides the labor pains. My baby’s heart beat was becoming erratic, and my midwife looked worried. I heard her call in an a different doctor and told him I was preclamptic. I asked what that meant and they explained that my blood pressure was so high that I could have a stroke any moment. I immediately prayed, “Jesus, please help my baby”.  I remember looking around the room and then suddenly... I blacked out.

Matthew Devon arrived at 10:33pm on September 4th, 2002 via emergency C-section, three weeks before his due date. I don’t remember anything about the delivery itself. Only waking up in a room with a bright pink baby boy being held in his father’s arms. He was beautiful, like a porcelain doll. He had a full head of silky blonde curls and deep blue eyes (that would later turn into grey/green). He was 8 pounds 4 ounces, and had chubby cheeks (still does!). He was named after his Father (Matthew) and my brother (Devon) who passed away. He had a cry that was very distinctive.  “Ah-la-waah!” ...that was his cry. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.    

At the time of this writing, Matthew is now 13 years old. He has graced my life with love and humor, and strength. He is one of the most genuine, pure hearted, talented young men on this planet.
He has had challenges in his short 13 years... But has walked and continues to walk through them victoriously. In the darkest moments of my life, he has been supportive, loving, encouraging, and helpful. I couldn't imagine what my life would look like if he wasn't a part of it.

I pray daily, that the Lord will continue to bless my boy’s life and that others will see Mattie the way that I see him...ONE OF KIND, and amazing! Since the day he arrived...he has been the true hero of my life. In so many ways he has shown me how to love like I never imagined possible. He has (from the beginning) given my life purpose and direction, and brought me off a path of self destruction. I don’t believe that Mattie was an accident, I believe he was a gift, delivered by God, just in time to rescue me. He rescued me from myself.

My song for Mattie:
Wonderwall by Oasis -covered by Ryan Adams

Matthew,
You are perfect.

Love always,
Mama

A Mother's Heart (pt. 2)

Trinity Hope - The Answer to My Prayers

Not that the OBGYN is every an extremely fun place to be...however, I was not only uncomfortable, but excruciatingly nervous. Despite the air conditioning constantly running on the “South Pole” setting in the office that day, I was flushed and sweating with a pit in my stomach that overwhelmed me. The doctor only left me for a moment. It felt like hours. Every tick the clock made sent little anxiety shocks down my spine.

Since I was a young girl, I had always had a desire to grow up and be a mother. My heart was so full of love for my son, and my life so much more fulfilling because of him. Mattie (being around 3 at the time) always liked the idea of having a brother or sister in his future. I knew that I wanted more children. And my desire for this never dissipated, even after the horrible news I didn’t know I was about to receive...

    After the birth of my son, I developed a very painful and life altering disease called Endometriosis. This is a condition in which scar tissue mutates and attacks your reproductive organs. Once spread, can attach itself to surrounding areas, such as your intentions, colon, etc. The only way to describe the pain is that it feels as though barbed wire is choking, twisting, and stabbing everything in your mid section. It’s crippling. I know anyone reading this that has had this disease understands exactly what I’m talking about. It changes your whole life. It absolutely changed mine. There were days that I couldn’t move. The pain was so intense that eating, walking, and more daily activities became a challenge. After a series of doctor’s appointments and second opinions, I moved forward with a specialist to see what my options were to control the disease. At first, I wasn’t even thinking about anything other than the pain…the thought that this could and would affect my ability to conceive any more children, had yet to be explained to me.

My doctor (the specialist), who is truly one of the kindest and most caring people I have ever met, sat me down and broke the news to me. He had “the face”...you know, the face someone makes when they are preparing to tell you something painful, like your dog got hit by a car while you were away or something. He explained that after the first laparoscopy I had, they discovered very quickly how serious my condition really was. It was so much worse than any of  the doctors had anticipated. The scar tissue had spread to my ovaries,  was surrounding the entire lower portion of my uterus, and had already strangled out my right tube. There was also evidence of it on my cervix and colon. In addition, because it was so wide spread over my uterus, it had actually fused my uterus to my intestine. I don’t think I really understood at first, but after it sunk in a little, I asked the question, “What does this mean for my future as a mother?” He scooped up my hand, and tried to calm the trembling, as he explained to me that my  chances to conceive were extremely unlikely due to the severity of my disease. I think everyone in the building could have audibly heard my heart break.

    Anyone who knows me well, knows that I don’t go down without a fight. This news...this “you can’t”...well, I didn’t accept that. So, I moved forward with treatments to do all that I could to fight this disease and fulfill my dream of having more children. Over the course of two years I underwent four laser scrapings, three different medication attempts, and a hard core type of treatment that used to help to cancer patients. I lost my hair in chunks, as a side effect. But none of that mattered to me...I just wanted to fight! After all the treatments and surgeries were done, there wasn’t anything left to try. My tubes were destroyed and a tubal pregnancy ending in miscarriage was all I was told I could expect. And they were right...I had two miscarriages. 

I knew that there was nothing else MAN could do to help me. I could only rely on God to hear the cry of my heart, and trust Him and His Will for my life. I was blessed to grow up in a wonderful church, and sought out the prayers of George and Garnett Glenning, a couple in the church known for their powerful prayers and their compassion for the hurting. These two people are so faithful and obedient to the call that God has placed on their lives, and I knew that I needed to find them! When my husband at the time and I approached the Glennings, they were so gracious. The stood with us, and prayed over my womb, laying their hands on and coming into agreement with us for my healing and for my ability to be a mother again. We thanked the Lord that His Will (no matter what that was) would be done, and that He would give me the strength to accept what ever that would be.

Two weeks later, I found out I was pregnant with my daughter! My doctors could not believe it! They said it was medically impossible for her to have gotten past my tubes. But MY GOD is BIGGER and STRONGER than any bad report of this world! NOTHING is impossible for the Lord, Jesus Christ! It was a miracle...that is why it could not be explained!

Because of all of my complications from my last pregnancy, and the Endometriosis complications, my pregnancy was well monitored. I developed Gestational Diabetes, and was put on a very strict diet. They would only allow me to gain about 25 lbs, to control both my Diabetes and my blood pressure. As you can imagine, for a pregnant women, not being able to eat anything delicious was TORTURE!!! But it was totally worth it to ensure my baby girl arrive safely. I fought to have her for so long, that if I couldn’t have a piece of pie -I WOULD DEAL WITH IT!!!

Trinity Hope was born at 10:45am July 19, 2007, two weeks before her due date. She was a planned C-section, and I was awake for the surgery. I was so nervous. All I wanted to do was hear her cry. I just needed her to cry!!! Then suddenly…. “QUACK!!!” Quack? Yep...she quacked! Much like her big brother, the Little Miss had her very own unique cry, that made me laugh out loud the second I heard it!! Her father, myself, and every doctor and nurse in the room all couldn’t help but laugh until she settled. She was bright pink like her brother was. 7 lbs 13 ounces. She had a bright purple birthmark on her right heel shaped like a bean (that later disappeared). She had a full head of brown straight hair (that would later develop into dirty blond curls) and the brightest electric blue eyes I had ever seen (which she still has!). They rushed her to me. She looked SO MAD! But she was SO beautiful! I welled up with tears the second I saw her, kissed her on her little cheek and said, “I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time!” 

I pray daily, that my beautiful daughter will find her place in this dark world, and that she will continue and desire to be a light in it. She has amazing spiritual gifts, and I know that the Lord can and will use her greatly. She is a leader! 

My song for Trinity-
In My Arms by Plumb

Trinity,
    You are important. You are loved. You are special. I am so glad that I didn’t surrender to the report of the doctors and fought for you with the help of the Lord Jesus. Always remember how loved and wanted you have always been by me. Always keep Jesus first in your life. He will love you and protect you better than any man ever will, and one day He will bring a man into your life that will show you a love that you deserve...a love that is a reflection of the heart that God has for you. Be patient, and wait for it. Don’t try to fit in. BE YOURSELF! You be yourself, and the right people will love you that way, Honey. Stay soft and kind. Do not let hurts turn into bitterness. Stay beautiful on the inside….it takes more work than the outside, trust me. Life will have it’s challenges, and it will be easy to turn to the wrong things or people to get through...but, Baby Girl, learn from Mommy’s mistakes...RUN straight to the arms of Jesus instead. 

Everytime. I promise you, there is nothing better out there for you than your Heavenly Father. I am proud of you. I am grateful for you. You are my miracle girl. You are the answer to my prayers!

To the moon and back,
Mama

A letter from Hope

Mama,

I’ve thought about writing you so many times. Choosing the right words to express my heart has been difficult. I was devastated to hear of the news about your health. The emotions that come from finding out that your mother is dying are hard to explain. I just wanted to reach out to you before the end.

I know it must be so odd to hear from me, being that we were never close (you basically forced my Father to take me). Living with Him has been wonderful, I can’t deny that. He named me Hope. He smiles when He says my name. It makes me feel good. Loved. Although His love and acceptance has surrounded me unconditionally since the first moment He held me, I still feel wounded by your rejection. Because of this, I have asked Him a lot of questions, trying to understand why you and I couldn’t have a relationship.

The hardest thing I ever asked Him was why you didn’t want me. Even writing that sentence brings tears to my eyes. His eyes filled with tears too, as He explained that you were very young when you found out you were having me. That you had places you wanted to go and things you wanted to do, and that you felt like a baby was only going to rob you of those things. You were not willing to give them up for me….That was hard to hear. All I ever wanted was your love….That is all any child wants.

You might not believe this, Mama, but... I remember things. I remember over-hearing you say you wanted to get rid of me. You called me a mistake. Yeah...I heard that. You made it sound like I wasn’t even human. Like I was... nothing.

The last memory I have being with you...we were resting comfortably together.  I tried not to move too much, because I didn’t want to wake you up. I heard someone tell you to relax, that it wasn’t going to hurt at all. ”It’s just tissue.”, I recall their last words being. I couldn’t figure out what it all meant...UNTIL suddenly...I started shaking around...and felt something grab me! I felt an agony I can’t even fully describe...this sharp piercing pain. Giant metal rods tearing me apart piece by piece….I felt it ALL! Every cut. Every tear. Every second of my panicked yet, fading heartbeat. And THEN...I felt my spirit separate from your’s…. That was the worst pain of all.

...the next thing I knew, I was in my Father’s arms. The God of all creation.

I’m not the only one, you know...there are others. Heaven is filled with us. Over the years I have asked Him about their stories too. My two best friends here are Gracie and James. He said that Gracie was a result of rape. Had she lived...she would have been loved and raised by a woman that had tried her whole life to have her own baby, but couldn’t. Her mother’s painful situation could have been turned around into a blessing for someone else. But… Gracie was never born. 

James’s mother found out that he was going to be born with a disability. She believed she was doing him a favor, not allowing him to live like that. He would have grown up to have been one of the most memorable World changing leaders in the history of our country. He would have sparked the flame that would have set the nation on fire for the Lord. But...James was never born.

So many unwanted children, Mama...so many things that will never happen...because they were not there to do them. This realization frightened me...so I finally asked Him…”What about me, Father? What was I going to do if I had been born?” His answer….Mama, it’s almost too painful to tell you. I was going to grow up to find the cure for the very disease that is stealing your last breaths right now…   Me, Mama.

When I found this out, I fell apart in my Father’s arms. He cried with me, and held me close. “So I wasn’t worthless, Papa?”, I asked.  “No, my beautiful Hope,” He replied, “Remember...even My Jesus...the Savior of the WORLD...was an unexpected pregnancy too.”

I want you to know, Mama...that I forgive you, even though it’s hard...and my Father...He wants to forgive you too. He said that if you ask Him into your heart before you go, you’ll come to Heaven, and He will give me back to you.

Praying I see you soon,
Your Hope

A long awaited activist's rant...

I have to vent sometimes, so if you are willing to listen...thank you, because I may come off irate. Understand, it comes from a place of frustration...an understanding I cannot come to...a devastation my heart cannot accept.  

Humans

Unfeeling

 Non-empathetic

 Unapologetic

 HUMANS

I get the same judgement all the time...

"Oh, you are Vegan? Why?...it's SO weird."

Yes, it is weird.

I'm weird.

Compassion is weird.

Or to be more accurate...

Compassion is uncommon.

The same people that rescue cats and dogs from shelters

Attend animal circus' and eat bacon for breakfast.

I think THAT is weird.

Why compassion for ONE and not ALL?

Why love selectively?

Why care about anything at all?

Now, I'm a follower for Christ, and one thing that gets under my skin worst of all, are the others of my kind that claim God Himself approves of the barbaric behavior humans show toward His creatures on a daily basis. Like it's our God given right to treat them any way we please.

Our God given right?

Read your Bible again. 

God, himself, the Creator of ALL things living...from the smallest to the largest, in His power and might...was creative enough to make every living being. And He told us to TAKE CARE of them. 

Instead....

We snuggle with our cats and dogs, but never give a single thought to the fact that the meat and dairy industries are RAPING, MASS PRODUCING, and TORTURING cows and pigs everyday. 

Baby cows and goats are pulled away from their mother's minutes after birth, while both mother and baby scream and cry brokenhearted from their separation. YOU get to drink the milk meant for those babies...and those babies...they get killed in mass because they were just a rape pawn to keep the mother's milk producing, and are otherwise useless. And the mothers?...well, see they get RAPED again as soon as their milk starts to dry up...so they can relive this heart break over again their ENTIRE lives, until they are useless to the industry and killed themselves. 

Do you want to hear more? 

I could get into the egg industry, and how they grind up baby chicks alive ...

Or we could talk about the meat industries and all the pleasantries the animals are shown before and during their miserable disregarded lives...

But why? Why tell you? Why show you?

The videos are disturbing?

They make you uncomfortable?

Why?

Why don't you look those animals in the eye, and watch them bleed out fully conscious.

Or have their heads smashed in...

I know why...

Because you couldn't enjoy your dinner if you did.

It's weird to care, right? 

I'm weird?

It's weird to say, "STOP!", at the top of my lungs and beg you to think outside of yourself, and look at what you are buying into?

God? 

No. 

This was not God's plan.

This breaks His heart.

It insults His artistry.

It spits in the face of His request to care for His creation. 

Stop giving God the credit for this inhumane humanity.

We live in an abundant nation.

We are not starving.

We don't have limited options to what we can consume.

We don't have to kill.

We don't have to pay these disgusting industries to kill for us.

We don't have to encourage this holocaust.

We can be better.

I'm weird?

Yes. 

Thank goodness. 

October 2nd #FastAgainstSlaughter