What Gives Me Direction in Life? Well, for me, often direction doesn’t come from a five-year plan or the latest self-help trend. It comes from a much deeper, unshakable source: my faith in Jesus, the guidance I find in my Bible, and knowing where to look, and the wise conversations I have had with my grandma.
Jesus is the compass that keeps me grounded when life feels uncertain as it often can be. His example teaches me how to love, serve, and keep going. My Bible is where I turn when I need clarity—it’s full of reminders that I’m not alone and that there’s purpose even in the waiting or the struggle. His word never changes, and it is still the same today, as it was yesterday. He is still my strength, no matter what circumstances I face.
And then there’s my grandma, she doesn’t just offer advice all the time, but when she does, it carries heavy weight. She speaks from experience of trials, and her raising. She was one of the elderly that got up before the sun come up, and picked peas, and spent the rest of the day shelling, and putting them up, for the next year. She swept floors, that weren’t strong, but, she reminds me that it wasn’t the house that was a home, but a home that was their house. She has a way of speaking truth wrapped in love, reminding me of where I come from and the values that truly matter. Her stories, her prayers, and even her gentle corrections , that aren’t always so gentle. She offers this same love to my children. I have the pleasure of living walking distance from her now. These blessings have helped shape the way I see the world, aside from my job, that sometimes doesn’t show the best picture of the world.
Together, these three sources—faith, Scripture, and my grandma’s wisdom—are like my North Star. They don’t always give me the easiest path, but they always give me the right one.
My journey with PTSD has been a long and tiring one, but it’s a path I’ve walked with the guidance of faith and Jesus. The struggles have been real, but so has the comfort and strength I’ve found in my beliefs.
For me, coping with PTSD has meant leaning on my faith and finding comfort in the teachings of Jesus. It’s not always been easy, but it’s a journey I’m grateful to be on.
Through my experiences, I’ve learned that I’m not alone in this struggle. Many others have walked this path and found hope and healing.
Faith can be a Powerful Tool
Faith can be a powerful tool incoping with PTSD.
Personal experiences can shape our understanding of faith and resilience.
Coping mechanisms are crucial in managing PTSD struggles.
Finding comfort in faith can lead to healing and hope.
Resilience is built through perseverance and support.
My Battle with PTSD Begins
As I reflect on my journey, I realize that my battle with PTSD began with a series of traumatic events that changed my life forever. I have left work before and cried so hard that I couldn’t see to drive. I even went and left my house to go to a bingo game, with a bunch of elderly folks to try and clear my mind. It didn’t work, I just left and cried, and prayed, and truly thought my life would never be the same. I didn’t want to ever go back to work again. I didn’t want to close my eyes because I didn’t want to see the vision of what I had just saw again. These experiences not only affected my mental health but also tested my faith and resilience. I was mad, and angry at God, and I felt less of a person for being mad at Him. How could I be so mad, and angry at the one that I loved, trusted, that loved me enough to die for me?
The Traumatic Events That Changed Everything
The traumatic events I endured were life-altering, leaving A terrible mark on my heart and soul. The memories of those moments still linger, a constant reminder of the struggles I’ve faced. My heart has wounds that I don’t know will ever heal.
That was the moment my life was forever divided into “before” and “after.”
It was as if time had stood still, and everything that followed was a struggle to regain what was lost. Laughing, crying, even hearing a joke—it all felt wrong. We were pulling the remnants of a child’s life from a destroyed vehicle: schoolwork, a little girl’s purse, a coloring page she had made for her mom. Her name was written in crayon inside a black-and-white composition book. We grasped at these small things, trying to gather whatever we could so her mom would have something left.
With every piece of evidence we retrieved, another piece of my heart broke.
I had to be strong. I couldn’t show my pain or my emotions. We had to bring these belongings to her mother, who was still in the hospital. There was no time to be upset—I had to brush it off and keep moving. We placed everything in a black garbage bag. Even a single house shoe, soaked from the rain, felt like a dagger to my heart.
How could this have happened? Why her? Why an innocent child taken so soon?
So many thoughts rushed through my mind as I imagined how her day must have gone before the accident. I couldn’t understand it. I didn’t have time to process it. I still had a shift to finish. I told myself I’d try to deal with it later, but I felt sick—nauseous and angry. Everything around me felt like it was moving in slow motion.
I’ve seen people die. I’ve watched them take their last breath. I’ve even pronounced loved ones dead before. But this… this was different.
My heart physically hurt in my chest. My whole life felt like it would never be the same.
Texts and calls from coworkers only made it worse. I know they meant well, but nothing anyone could say would make it better. Truthfully, I just wanted to be left alone to deal with it my own way. My mind was like a shattered puzzle. Even if I tried to put it back together, some pieces were missing. And if my heart, soul, and mind were a puzzle—there would never be a piece that fit the hole this left behind.
This was a turning point for me.
I already had PTSD from COVID and other calls I’d been on, but nothing had ever felt like this. Maybe it was because the patient was a child. Maybe it was because I had let my guard down. Or maybe the devil was playing on my weakness. But I was broken.
I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.
The only thing I can compare it to is the moment someone realizes they are dying—and they know it. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face, hearing the sounds, or remembering the scene. I’ll never forget the looks on the firefighters’ faces—men I’d worked with for years. We all wore the same blank stares. The air itself felt different, like something in all of us had changed.
The symptoms of PTSD didn’t show up all at once. They crept in gradually, like a shadow that slowly swallowed my life.
At first, it was just a constant sense of anxiety—hypervigilance that never let up. But it didn’t stop there. It grew into something deeper, heavier—something that paralyzed me emotionally. I couldn’t talk about it with anyone. No one could truly understand.
I remember walking into my grandma’s house, where my mom was sitting, and I just lost it. I broke down crying—so hard it didn’t even feel like crying. It was more like gasping for air, grasping at something to hold onto in a storm I couldn’t escape. I wanted to explain what I was feeling, but how could I? There weren’t words for it.
My mom tried to be empathetic. She told me I did all I could do. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that I saw it. I was there. There was no filter, no way to block out the images burned into my mind. I hated blinking. I hated closing my eyes, even for a second—because the scene would come flooding back.
Worse, I still had to drive past the place where it happened. Every time I went through my hometown, I’d pass that spot. And I hate to admit this, but sometimes, I pulled over. I stopped, just to look. Just to see if there was anything—anything—left behind that I could salvage for her family. I know it might not make sense, but in my mind, if I could’ve found something—anything—it might have brought me a tiny bit of closure.
But instead, I saw the road markings. The orange spray paint the officers used to mark the impact points. Those marks felt like fresh wounds every time. Another dagger to my already shattered heart.
I kept trying to figure it out. What went wrong? What happened in that moment?
No one really understood why it affected me so deeply. After all, it’s what I signed up for… right?
The daily struggles of PTSD were overwhelming. Simple tasks became daunting challenges. The world around me felt chaotic—loud, fast, and unforgiving.
I remember being in church the Sunday after the accident. Everything felt too much. The noise, the crowd, even the music—it was all so loud. Then I saw her.
A woman sitting in front of me was holding her little girl. Such an innocent, tender moment—but to me, it felt like a nightmare. In that moment, I saw her again. The little girl we lost. And all I could think was, I bet her mom would give anything to hold her again. But she can’t.
That thought consumed me, and suddenly, I was angry. I rushed to the restroom, desperate to calm down. I held a cold, wet cloth to my face and chest, trying to stop the welts from forming, trying to slow my breathing. Panic had taken over.
But I couldn’t stay in the bathroom. I had to go back out. My own children were waiting, and I still had to drive us all home. So, I did what I’d been doing since that day. I sucked it up.
It was a constant battle—to find peace, to feel normal again, to find comfort in the midst of turmoil. But how?
The Darkest Valley
I found myself in the darkest valley of my life. The memories and flashbacks were relentless, making everyday tasks a significant challenge. Sleep was the worst, or lack of. No one would ever have guessed that when I laid down at night, sometimes I wouldn’t go to sleep, until the sun was starting to come up. I didn’t want to ever re-live that scene. i wish it had been as easy to do though as realizing what i needed to do, and actually doing it. I had to keep my mind busy.
Hitting Rock Bottom
It was an overwhelming experience, and there came a point when traditional coping methods failed me. I felt lost and without direction. i kept working, i even worked extra shifts, and with every tone that came out, i hoped it wouldn’t be that call that would do me in for good. i had to still play the part, i had to still be the mom, and wife that i had been prior to the accident, and i was tired. i felt like i was in a hamster wheel that was spinning, with no way to get off. everyday felt like i was a robot going through the motions.
When Traditional Coping Methods Failed
I tried various techniques to manage my symptoms, but nothing seemed to work for long. The failure of these methods left me feeling hopeless. Some of the methods I tried included:
Seeking support from EMS friends and family, which I was limited on what I said, but I tried to vent.
Engaging in physical activities, cleaning the house , rearranging furniture, organizing my pantry.
The Isolation of Trauma
The trauma I experienced led to a deep sense of isolation. i could be in a room full of folks, and still feel alone. our place of employment actually had us go talk to a grievance Counselor before we ever returned to work, after that call, but unfortunately, i felt like talking to her, had to be filtered, because i don’t know if she had really had much experience in this Sort of trauma. i know they hear A lot of messed up stories, and situations, but i don’t know if it could truly be Comprehended, without having experienced it, or without having worked in emergency medicine.
Feeling Misunderstood and Alone
It was as if no one could truly understand what I was going through. This feeling of being alone was one of the darkest aspects of my journey. However, it was during this time that I began to turn to faith in challenging times and found Jesus as my source of comfort.
In the midst of this darkness, I found peace with my faith. It became a glimpse of hope, guiding me through the valley.
I never expected to ever be able to get it out of my mind, but that’s exactly what happened.
Faith and Jesus Are My Reason for Making It Through My Struggles with PTSD
As I navigated the complications of PTSD, it was my faith and connection with Jesus that served as my guiding light. This journey wasn’t easy, but with faith, I found the strength to face each day. i begin to not feel like i was in a war, or that my mind wasn’t a battlefield. sure, i had days that were hard, or something would make me think about it, but it didn’t consume me.
The Moment Everything Changed
The turning point came when I realized that I wasn’t alone in my struggles. It was during a particularly difficult moment that I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, a feeling that I now attribute to my faith in Jesus. i felt like He told me it was okay, to let it go, or it was okay to not be okay, and that i could get through it. the one popular verse that we hear from the time we are little, ” I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13. I realized that He could get me Through it. I wouldn’t ever get myself Through it, and I begin to have the thought that He allowed me to be there, because he knew that He would show me, that my strength comes from Him alone.
Finding Hope When It Seemed Impossible
hope seemed like a distant memory. Yet, it was in those moments that my faith was tested and strengthened. I began to see that even in the darkest times, there was always a glimmer of hope, a light that guided me forward. He was the light, He is the Light, and there is no darkness in Him. Nothing could have been as tragic as Him being nailed to a cross, beat, and whipped with thorns on his head. He was misunderstood, His mission, and His plan to save us all. They didn’t believe him, and they couldn’t understand him. He must have felt alone, he must have been angry, and I could now see that the feelings I felt, was a reminder that his trauma, and his tragedy was for a cause. He was saving us, but who saved him?
Jesus as My Constant Companion
One of the most comforting aspects of my faith has been the realization that Jesus is always with me. This companionship has been a source of strength and comfort, reminding me that I’m never alone in my struggles.
Never Walking Through the Darkness Alone
With Jesus by my side, I feel a sense of companionship all the time. This feeling was summarized in a powerful realization: “I am not alone; Jesus walks with me through the darkness.” It was a reminder that even in the most isolating moments of PTSD, He is always with me.
My journey with PTSD is ongoing, but with faith and Jesus as my foundation, I feel more equipped to handle the challenges that come my way. Key aspects of my faith-based healing include:
Prayer as a means of coping with anxiety and flashbacks. I pray all day. I never say AMEN, because I talk to Him, like a run on sentence, with no end. I pause, but as I go about my everyday, I know he’s always there. I know I can just pick up where I left off, when I am talking to him.
Embracing Jesus’s example of enduring suffering with compassion and strength
These elements have not only provided me with comfort but have also given me the motivation to continue on my path towards healing. Whether I ever heal completely or not is questionable, but in my weakness, he makes me strong.
Finding Strength in Faith During Challenging Times
Through my struggles with PTSD, I’ve found comfort in the teachings of the Bible. The journey hasn’t been easy, but faith has been a crucial element in my recovery.
Biblical Teachings That Resonated with My Pain
The Bible contains numerous accounts of individuals who faced immense suffering and hardship, yet found strength in their faith. One teaching that resonated deeply with me is found in Psalm 34:18, which says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” This verse reminded me that I am not alone in my pain.
Scriptures That Became My Lifeline
Certain scriptures became my lifeline during the darkest moments. For instance,
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me” (Psalm 23:4)
a sense of peace and reassurance that God Is with me.
Jesus’s Example of Enduring Suffering
Jesus’s own experience of suffering on the cross is a powerful example of enduring pain with faith. His willingness to bear the weight of our sins teaches us about the redemptive power of suffering.
Learning That Pain Has Purpose
Embracing faith has not eliminated my struggles with PTSD, but it has given me the strength to face them with hope.
Prayer as My Lifeline for Coping with PTSD
Prayer has been my lifeline, providing strength as I navigate the complexities of PTSD. It has become a Part of my daily routine, helping me to stay grounded and focused.
Morning Prayers Set the Tone for My Day
Starting my day with prayer has been particularly impactful. It sets a positive tone and provides a sense of calm and purpose. I often pray for strength, guidance, and protection, asking God to be with me throughout the day’s challenges. I pray that he helps me not miss things, or gives me the words to say, when I don’t know what to say. I pray that others see Him in me, and when I let a curse word slip, or when I let anger, or other emotions creep in , I pray that he help me with self control. We are all human, but I feel like we have to know the difference in being human, and when the devil is trying to take control in our lives. he knows our weaknesses, and he will play on them. He doesn’t want us to be close to God.
Prayer has, over time, helped to rewire my responses to traumatic memories and anxiety triggers. By consistently bringing my fears and worries to God, I’ve experienced a gradual decrease in my trauma responses.
Jesus is my Source of Comfort.
The Comfort That Surpasses Understanding
This comfort wasn’t just a feeling; it was a deep assurance that surpassed human understanding. It is a reminder that I am not alone in my struggles.
Integrating Faith with Professional Treatment
My journey has taught me that faith and professional treatment are not mutually exclusive; rather, they complement each other. Seeking help from mental health professionals and deepening my faith has proved to be a powerful combination.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11)
This verse often brought me comfort during difficult times.
“Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:12-13)
When Doubt and Symptoms Return
There have been times when the symptoms of PTSD have returned, bringing with them doubt and fear. It’s in these moments that holding on to that faith can sometimes feel like a challenge, but remember, that is the devil, that wants to bring you back to that dark place. he can’t win, because I am a child of GOD.
Conclusion: Living as a Testament to His Grace
My journey with PTSD has been long and challenging, but it’s been transformed by the power of faith and Jesus. Through the darkest moments, Jesus has been my source of comfort, providing peace and strength in the midst of turmoil.
As I reflect on my journey, I’m reminded that faith and Jesus are not just about overcoming adversity but about finding purpose and meaning in the midst of it. My story is a testament to the grace I’ve experienced, and I hope it inspires others to find comfort and healing in their own struggles.
By sharing my story, I aim to encourage those who may be struggling with PTSD to explore the role that faith can have in their healing journey. Jesus is my source of comfort, and I pray that it may be the same for others.
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Congratulations! You’ve made it through medic school. A long drawn out process. So, you went to Paramedic school because you want to help people, or you want to make a difference. In your life, you have felt like life has been unfair at times, but you’ve made it. So many things you haven’t understood. How can dad’s decide they want a different life? How can siblings leave you, and act like they wasn’t sitting on a trampoline in the front yard with you giggling, or little brothers decide to choose their wife over you? After all, you pushed him down a gravel driveway in a dump truck for Pete’s sake. How can families not be together anymore?
Life is unfair, and you about to see just how unfair it can be.
You want to make a difference, you want to hold hands, and offer comfort to others that are suffering, or fix broken parts of your own life by showing some compassion to others that maybe didn’t get it as a child? After all , your mom showed you she loved you? She combed your hair just right and sprayed it with the best hairspray to give you that puff in the front. Your dad fixed you coffee with more sugar than coffee before he went to work? Your sister sang on the kitchen table to Reba, and you laughed. Your little brother grew up at your house, and brought you chicken from the local restaurant, and had your living room full of his friends playing video games.
So you want to make a difference? You want to learn everything you can about your mom’s seizures, because you won’t allow her to hurt or be in any distress and not know what to do. You have to have the knowledge to help her with her multiple sclerosis, because you will not allow her to go to a nursing home. You want to know everything there is to know about your little boys asthma, because after all, not being able to breath is a big ordeal.
You know how to control bleeding, you can read cardiac strips, and intubate. You know how to do CPR, and deliver a baby. You can start an IV going down the road, or a dark, non lit house. You should be proud of yourself.
You’ll get pretty good at reading people by their tone of voice, and facial expressions. You will automatically start assessing everyone you meet, whether you are just talking about the weather, or what your kids are doing this weekend. A few years down the road, you will have figured out how to draw up medication, one handed, and did I mention going down the county roads, because you were taught how to draw up medication sitting at a desk in school.
You’ll find certain smells that you can’t help but gag at. You are human. You’ll find ways to mask the smells, with menthol vapor rubs in your nostrils, or rubbing alcohol works wonders. You’ll figure out how to get blood out of your tactical pants, with peroxide.
Oh the places you will go…
I’m not talking about the Dr. Seuss book. I wished I was, but honey you will find people live different. Houses where the roaches are out during the daytime, and garbage that hasn’t made it to the road in months. You will care for those folks, and do it with a straight face. Jesus loves us all, remember that. I don’t think he approves of filth, but he loves them just like he loves you. You don’t know why or how they got in this position, but maybe their house is a representation of their mind.
You’ll go in the houses of the rich, where you feel like you need to take your shoes off and you’ll go in the houses of the poor where in the winter, you are freezing , and their heat source comes from the stove, but remember they called you, and you are there for a reason. It might not be an emergency to you, but it is to them, so treat it like one.
For the most part, they trust you. You are going to have people that don’t trust you, but you are going to need to be nice, remain respectful. When you get an elderly patient, with a UTI, Remember, they don’t realize they are being mean, but I know , you didn’t learn that in Paramedic school. You are going to be in places that you never imagined, from crack houses to back seats of crushed cars. Watch for the glass, and try not to stay in the car long. Get the patient out as safely as possible. You are going to meet a lot of people that want to help, and most of them are volunteering, so don’t disrespect them either. When you are in the middle of nowhere and a guy with two radios and fire gear shows up, let him help. He will become family to you.
You are going to be on some roads that you didn’t even know existed, and you will wonder at times if they are even on a map, a lot of times they might not show up on your gps, but try to look for the house numbers , that are sometimes wrote on the end of a trailer with a sharpie. I’m being serious, not all house numbers are listed and when folks start coming out they are going to ask you for a name. Be nice, just tell them you didn’t get a name. You will find someone outside, waving you down, or doing an ambulance dance, also resembling jumping jacks. You might not be able to get close to the front door, because the home health nurse’s car will be blocking the driveway, or the family members cars, these are the ones with flashers.
Did I mention, don’t plan anything on the days you work for after you clock out? You are more than likely going to get a late call if you do.
Occasionally, you will come to work and be able to take a nap, or watch some movies on your phone, some days are slow, and you might not even start an IV, or turn the lights and sirens on. You are going to have some patients that you see often, and they depend on you. Sometimes they call because they are scared, or lonely. They know your name, or if you look sad, and they know if you care. They will ask you about your family, and you will get to know some of their family. I’m sure Paramedic school didn’t teach you this, but add it to the list. When these patients do get really sick, it often happens quickly, and you may even get frustrated at times, over their repetitive calls, but don’t. They see you different. One day, they won’t be calling anymore, and you will worry about them. You will sometimes give your lunch or snacks away to people that are hungry, when you haven’t eat. You will either order them door dash, or maybe bring them thanksgiving if you are off, you will worry about complete strangers when it’s cold or hot, because you know their house isn’t fit for bad weather.
You will pray, a lot!
You are going to need your faith, faith in God will be the only thing that gets you through some days.
Don’t stop caring though, don’t let the work beat you down. The first time you see a lady die that just gave birth to a baby, and her family left to go across the road to pick her up some food, her phone ringing is going to break you. It’s going to change you. Your legs will shake, your heart will pound and you are going to have so many questions , but don’t stay this way long, you have another call holding. You’ll never forget that moment though.
When you go to a domestic disturbance, you are going to get angry, you are going to see a side of yourself, you didn’t realize you had. You will become an advocate. Hold on, no one told you that in paramedic school either. You are going to beg her to leave and tell her every reason she don’t deserve the abuse, only to go back to her later, maybe a few months later where she is so traumatically injured, that she isn’t recognizable, and you are going to get angry. You’ll never loose that memory of her.
Later on, a few months later, you will respond to a CPR in progress call, you will perform CPR on a young adult, where you look up to see their child watching you. I promise , it will take some time to get past this one, especially when you realize, they didn’t make it. You’ll wonder about this child ten years later.
You will witness a newborn stop breathing and become limp, with the new dad following the ambulance, and deliever a baby that came too early, and for a little while it will change the way you look at babies. Don’t give up though.
You will go through a pandemic. What ? Yeah, you will learn of a new disease like the flu, that the whole country will have never heard about. You will have to dress in hazmat gear to enter houses. You will not have enough oxygen to save them. You will go to work when everyone else is staying inside. You wanted to make a difference, you tried your best. After you see more people die in a two week period than most do in their lifetime, you will break. You will crumble , and run far away from it. You will go try a new career, making people feel better, completely out of healthcare. Did I mention, you will fix hair? Crazy , right ? But you can’t handle the person you were becoming. Cold, and numb to not feel hurt. You won’t even be able to feel happiness, but if you feel at all, you let the wall down to all emotions. Don’t give up though, you got to keep going
Less than a year after doing hair, you will be able to go back, you will miss helping people, or trying to anyway. When you go back, you will get the swing of it real quick. You will work hard and try you best to be compassionate and feel everything, good and bad.
Did I mention it got a lot busier? A lot of your coworkers have changed to, they are burnt out from the pandemic. You will be used by the public for a ride and drug abuse is at an all time high. Narcan is like candy, and you will witness a lot of overdoses, and several of these folks are young, and left to die by their supposed friends. You will also have to learn how to tell family members with compassion that there is nothing you can do to help them, and ask which funeral home they want. No one taught you that either. You are getting older now, and some calls will cause you to cry when you are cleaning up the battlefield in your ambulance when the struggle of saving them was a fight, but you will have made it to the hospital . You will watch family members kiss their loved ones on the forehead and trust you to care for them, for them to be talking to you and tell you they are dieing, to only realize 10 minutes later, that they knew it. Always believe them, when they tell you they are going to die.
You will have a few slow months, and you will laugh and be silly, but one day you’ll have another call that adds to the trauma. You will work another pediatric death that changes you. You will cry, you will feel like you’ll never be normal again , and you won’t know how you will make it, but you will. When your kids ask about your day, you will tell them it was okay. You will cry in the bathtub, as tears fall from your face to the floor, and you will have random anxiety attacks for a while, but you have to keep going. You want to make a difference, you want to save the world.
You will grow in your faith, and realize it’s okay to not be okay. You will realize that you can only do so much, and as long as you do your best, that is all you can do. You can’t do it on your own, you are God’s tool. Have faith, pray, and get in your Bible. God never promised us an easy road, he just promised to be with us. When you find your strength in him, you will realize also that God placed you at every call you went to. He strategically planned for you to go, because he knew you could handle it.
He went to the wilderness and was tested by the Devil. He shut the lions mouth to keep Daniel safe. He protected men from fire because they trusted him. They escaped without a burn. He healed so many people because they trusted him, and just the touch of his robe healed a woman that had been bleeding for days. He made a paralyzed man walk. He walked on water. So imagine what he’s going to do with you!
You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?
The Best news I have ever got is that, I’ve been bought and paid for! What?! Yeah that’s what I said. All of my debt has been paid! We have a father, named Jesus , that hung on a cross, whipped, beaten and cursed, all for us. He could have came down from the cross, he had the ability, but he stayed for me and you! He knew that we would fail him, he knew we were sinners, and without a savior, we would die and go straight to Hell! A fiery furnace where the fire would never be put out! I don’t know about you, but I’m terrified of fire. Too much closeness to a fire pit, or the warmth from a campfire is enough for me. Have you seen what it does to a marshmallow that falls off the stick ?
“He was beaten, he was tortured, but he didn’t say a word. Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered and like a sheep being sheared, he took it all in silence. Justice miscarried, and he was led off— and did anyone really know what was happening? He died without a thought for his own welfare, beaten bloody for the sins of my people. They buried him with the wicked, threw him in a grave with a rich man, Even though he’d never hurt a soul or said one word that wasn’t true.” Isaiah 53:7-9 MSG
Bought and paid for!
“So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. And because you belong to him, the power of the life-giving Spirit has freed you from the power of sin that leads to death.” Romans 8:1-2 NLT
I need to go to the beach, when it’s warmer of course, and sit back and close my eyes. I could only image the sun hitting my skin, and a breeze. Life is just chaotic sometimes. The hamster wheel I feel like I’m on the last few weeks, needs to slow down. The stress of two vehicles messed up at once. My middle daughter’s perfectly good car was hit, while she was sitting still- thankfully she wasn’t injuries. The oldest daughter’s car has had one thing after another between a heater cord, and a chain being broke by the engine. I go to finally cash an insurance check , from a well known insurance company so I can purchase another car, only to be treated like an outcast, and my bank wouldn’t cash it , Walmart wouldn’t cash it and I finally get it cashed after paying $218 fee.
The folks that cashed it did everything but ask what color socks I was wearing to verify it was a good check.
Fast Forward, whatever ever days I haven’t been working, I’ve been doing orientation for a new company that is taking over or ambulance service. Granted, they are 10x better, but I’m tired.
Regular household chores, and online college courses- I’m ready for a 12 hour nap. I wouldn’t trade my title as mom for anything else. I love my kids, but I’m tired.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?
Love is a huge word, well a four letter word that carries so much weight. I have felt love from my kids, my mom, and my husband of course. My Yorkie, of all things, although an animal has expressed so much loyalty and love. He licks my hands and face and is always waiting to greet me when I walk through the door no matter how long I’m gone. When I’m sick, or don’t feel like getting out of bed,he won’t leave my side. The most positive way I have ever experienced Love though is when I read the Bible after asking God to open my heart and mind, to be able to understand it. When I fully understood the extent at which Jesus loved me, I get chills, and have never felt so much peace when I grasps that Jesus loved me so much and under no fine print will he change his mind. I am good enough, he didn’t stop to say, “I only love you, under these circumstances.” He was beaten, whipped and hung on a cross with nails in his hands and feet and had blood drain from His body. He could have easily got off the cross, and stopped it all. He could have said he wasn’t doing it, or that the pain was too much to bare, but he didn’t.
When I let the devil tempt me, or distract me, he doesn’t leave, he just sits back and waits on me to realize I need him. When I gain a few pounds, or let myself go, it doesn’t change the way He loves me. When I let a cuss word slip, he doesn’t change his mind about loving me. If I’m poor or rich, it doesn’t matter to him, he’s got a mansion in Heaven for me when I get there.
The other thing, He’s my father! You have your father here on earth, or you have someone that took part in your physical being , but that father might have let you down, he might not talk to you now, or hasn’t seen you in over a year, so you might question how a father’s love could be the representation of Jesus. Jesus won’t disappoint you, while you might not see him, you can see him in everything if you just look, you can talk to him,like you would a friend, no special words or request needed. He already knows what you need before you ask. No flaw or mistake is too big. You are more than enough.
Stitches of My Heart 