#Chronic Illness, #FamilyOfGod, #Gratitude, #JesusChrist, #Pain, Uncategorized

Gratitude

Gratitude is such an easy thing for many. Perhaps it is because I have been alive so long and seen evil as well as goodness. When I first began keeping a gratitude journal the only thing I could think of was toilet paper.

Many people tell me I need to write a book about my life, only because they do not understand my reasoning behind not trying to do that again. I would rather share only the good, but for others to understand why I enjoy such ‘simple’ things, they would have to understand the evil that took place first. In my humble opinion, until you do without, you don’t realize what you really have. Plus, in writing a book about my life, in the past, the editors wanted me to expound on the bad and cut down on the good.

For people with chronic pain, just getting out of bed to go to the bathroom can cause a major issue. When the phone rings while I am not near it, by the time I can get to it, they have hung up and since I don’t know how to reset the phone so the machine can pick up messages, well… I think you understand.

I have a note on my front door that basically says “Please, ring the bell. I may not get here as quick as you want me to be, but I will get here as soon as I am able to.” This afternoon, I hear this feeble tapping on the door and a man’s voice saying “Hello? Hello?”

I yelled to him to please hang on so I can get to the door. As I struggled to get to the side of the bed so I could transfer to my wheelchair, I heard him tapping again. It took a lot just to reach the door, and as I did, I heard the lock box open. Two men I had been expecting – standing there, one very embarrassed said, “I got here first.” I was not all that polite when I asked “Did you bother to read the sign?”

Even my closest friends hate to watch me try to get into bed and then struggle to just sit up or move. But at least they know once it’s over, I am fine and able to laugh or talk again.

Frankly, I wish the Parkinson’s was my only problem. The only reason I have started shaking again is: I can’t take the meds, they make me vomit blood. I can’t take any medication orally, as it too causes me to vomit. While I do have pain patches, my doctor will not make them strong enough to work any longer, because my lungs are bad from too many bouts of pneumonia and bronchitis over the years, and narcotics slow my breathing even more. He doesn’t want to be blamed for my death. Bless his heart. Frankly, I think he is afraid I would put them all on at once. He knows I am not suicidal, so what is the big deal? He could lose his license when I die if they see strong narcotics on me. I don’t want him to go through that.

When my doctor first put on these pain patches that work 24 hours, he told me “I don’t want you to wake up dead, so don’t ask for anything stronger until your pain gets even worse.” They call what I go through: “Chronic Pain”, but unless you have it, you really don’t ‘get it’.

This last week my doctor spoke to me about morphine shots, but I turned him down. I really don’t want to become addicted, and I also do not want to be in a stupor; locked up in a home; strapped to a chair in front of a television set for the rest of my life. I would rather be in pain and think clearly (for the most part) so I can read, draw, paint, watch good movies and listen to good music of my own choice and be in my own little apartment so I can cry in private. Okay. Now I am going to blow my nose, and get on with my blog post.

My heart goes out to those who are alone and have small children as well as chronic pain. Back in the 1970’s, my youngest daughter was with me while I had to get treatments for my cancer. That was horrific for both of us. My heart goes out to young people with chronic pain. But there is a light in that memory: One time, she put a washcloth in the toilet to get it wet, then placed it gently on my forehead and said, “you all better now mama?” (she was too little to reach the sink; thus, the toilet was the only thing she could reach. Good thing I keep a clean bathroom, eh?)

Anyway, back to what I am gratitude for:

I am grateful for friends who come regardless of my sounds. I am grateful that there are those who respect my wish of staying in my own home and are doing all they can to ensure I can stay put. I am grateful for those who come while I sleep and see when I can’t do my dishes, then wash them and put them away. I am grateful for those who come and change my sheets each week so I don’t have to expend what little energy I do have on those particular daily or weekly issues. I am grateful for those who bring me treats occasionally. I am grateful for the Holy Scriptures and all the prophets, living and dead. I am grateful for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and all those who play instruments and write beautiful, clean music. I am grateful that I have a savior so I don’t have to suffer for those sins and mistakes I repented of. I am grateful I am only held accountable for the sins I committed and not for those of my husband or parents. I am grateful for our Heavenly Father who sent His son, Jesus Christ to be that Savior for me. I am grateful for Their patience with me and all of mankind. I am grateful for a Heavenly Mother who is anxious for me to get home. I am grateful for those of my birth family who accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ and to those who did work on their behalf. I am grateful to all those who created the FamilySearch program and maintain it. I am grateful for all those who have done and are now doing research and sharing what they have found. I am grateful for photographs of my babies as they grew up. I am grateful that the airways over America are not filled with bombs and missiles yet. I am grateful for pain patches and grateful I don’t have to clean up blood any more. I am grateful for friends I can call and just whine to and that they bring me cheese when I do whine, so we can all laugh together.

What are you grateful for?

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#Chronic Illness, #FamilyOfGod, #Health, Uncategorized

A day in the life of…

Have you ever heard of the “Perils of Pauline”? Well, I personally think my story should be titled “A day in the life of…” Let me explain why with an example of this morning.

My alarm did not go off; thus, I did not wake up until about 8:30 am. I needed to start my day and tried to move. Wherein, I promptly decided I would go back to sleep before attempting such an effort as rolling over. However, nature was calling, so I did get up and apply some pain patches.

By the time I was able to get into my wheelchair it was about 8:45am. I said a short prayer and by the time I did my “bathroom” routine it was after 10:00 am. Now you might ask yourself, what in the world takes her so long?

My bathroom routine not only consists of nature relief, washing up, and brushing my teeth, but getting dressed, gathering the trash, cleaning the toilet, sink, washing the lower part of the mirror on good days, (I did not do that this morning) and gathering my laundry. By the time that was done, I needed to add a few pain patches so I could continue my day. Bless my new neighbor’s hearts. So many times they have called for a “safety check” when they hear me. Now, I turn on my fan so it muffles my moans and groans as I move around. The police have finally stopped coming unless I call them. It only took them 10 years to learn.

I love the “The Spoon Theory” by Christine Miserandino http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com.

Bless Christine’s heart. She gave those of us who have chronic illnesses a way to share how difficult our days are. If you have not read it, I recommend you do. It can help you to help and understand others with health issues without thinking we are just lazy, since we rarely do what what “normal” people do. By the way, in my opinion, “normal” is a setting on your washing machine. Everyone has their own issues. Don’t you agree?

Anyway, back to my morning.

After the pain patches kicked in, I went out into the kitchen and prepared some oatmeal. While it was in the microwave, I turned into the living room to turn on my music (Today was the Messiah. I just love Christmas music, don’t you?). It was nice to be able to eat a real breakfast. Yesterday was so bad I had to have a protein shake for breakfast and lunch. I never know from day to day what I am able to do or not do.

These tasks required using my arms, and since my shoulders don’t work without a lot of pain today, it took awhile. What used to be so simple, now has time constraints which can put me to bed for a few hours or at times even days. But this morning it was not bad enough to send me back to bed.

While in the kitchen, I saw that my apples were all bad, so had to toss  them and decided since they would make the trash heavy, (I just hate asking others to lift heavy trash and since my complex’s maintenance crew had shoveled the sidewalks. . . )  I just put the trash bag on the foot rest of my chair and took it out myself. As I have not been outside in a few weeks, I did not think this would be a problem. I sometimes forget I can’t do what I used do every day.

Once again, my pride got the better of me, and outside I went. I only got stuck a few times as I made my way to the trash area, which was still too slick and snowy to get into, thus, the trash is now sitting in the doorway of the trash area for someone else to lift and put into the trash bin. You see, I had also forgotten that I can’t lift anything today, let alone lift it over my head. DUH! I cannot even blame old age for this. After all, it’s not as if I were 91 or something. (71 is not old, is it?)

Getting stuck outside in a power wheelchair with bald tires, no cellphone to call for help (and might I add – no one local who is strong enough to help even if I had one) is only a problem when you have as much pride as I do. But the good thing about it (“pride” -if there is anything good about such a bad thing) is that my battery is fully charged and thus I was able to rock back and forth hard enough to get unstuck. Isn’t that great? Then, we began to have a mild snowfall, and I’m thinking “I have plastic in the  chair to cover the controls, but I can’t use my arms to reach it.”  Good news: I was able to get back inside safely and it only took a short period of time to clean up the water from the chair wheels. Thank God and friends for paper towels and a mop thingie.

Anyway, it is now 11:51 am, I have had breakfast and am almost ready to go back to bed. I have used up most of my spoons for the day, and bed is a rough option, but better than being in too much pain to enjoy my company this afternoon.I think I’ll fix a diet root-beer and get back in bed now, taking the towels out of the dryer can wait until my friend gets here this afternoon. Someday I’ll share about just getting into bed.  Here, I must thank God for friends who gave me a pillow that allows me to sit up.

Normally, in the mornings, I do some research for my ancestors, however due to overdoing this morning, I will be working on a drawing I had planned on doing before Christmas. At least the people who will receive it know it will be late. Have a happy New Year.

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#mourning, Uncategorized

Harriet Inez

For Those Who Mourn
By Paul Buckingham
Just one of those quiet, aged sisters
Who touched your soul with her smile;
Slowly, unpretentiously she moved about
Keeping commandments,
Attending,
Serving.
She is
Someone’s daughter,
Someone’s mother,
Someone’s wife,
Now a widow,
Dead.
And few notice her passing.
There is no crowded chapel,
No rippled shock of grief
Through generations of humanity—
Just a quiet, undecorated,
Mildly celebrated
Death.
Her obituary notice falls
In yesterday’s trash,
The funeral flowers wilt and dry.
But in the
Heart of heaven
There are kisses on her cheek,
Embraces,
For a cherished spirit has returned,
A prized daughter is crowned,
Glorified.
And I suspect it was such a
Quiet death
Because we could not hear the
Celebration of her
Arrival.
This gives me comfort this night. Tonight, I think of my youngest child. My dear sweet daughter whom was never really mine. She was created from pain and suffering, and survived because I pleaded with God to give her life. She was willing to just obtain her body then go back home.
I know not if she is alive or dead. I had to give her to someone who had prayed for a child and could not have her own. She came to me unexpected, and at that time not wanted. Yet, when she came forth, how could I not love her and want her. A neighbor’s son married me so the name on her birth certificate would never bring her shame. Yet, she was not his either.
On the 9th of April she was born in body. I still mourn for what might have been if I had only had a righteous husband to love and protect me from evil. But then, if I had that man, she never would have been born. She came during the course of a few nights and days from wicked men who broke into my home.
I mourn for my own children, whom I never was allowed to love and raise. Yet, I do not mourn for them, as I know they were blessed while out of my keep. They were able to love each other and nurture each other. My daughter was mother to my son when I could not be.
My world may be different than yours, but we are all different, aren’t we?
I love my children through all eternity, yet they are not mine. They belong to God, just as I do. I pray they learned of Him.
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#Mothers, Uncategorized

What Mother Means to Me

I learned about motherhood in a way different than most people. I have seen many wonderful mothers from around the world. There are good mothers in every country upon the earth as well as in all religions.

However, I also know that just because a woman gives birth to a child does not make them a real mother. God gave most women the ability to conceive a child, nonetheless, how they treat a child is what I believe makes them a mother.

I honor and respect Mothers, and have always done all I can to help them protect and raise their children in righteousness. I also helped children to honor and respect their mothers, just because they gave them life. And when their mothers loved and respected them, that was easy. When they did not, that was not easy.

My sister’s words introduced me to my own mother, and not having a memory of her, that gave me insight into how happy I might have been if she had lived. It is easy for me to honor and respect her because she chose to give me life, even at the cost of her own. While she did not die giving me birth, she died because she gave me birth.

I know that she read the scriptures, because one of the items she left behind was an old, worn bible, and the other was a painting of an angel watching over two little children on a rickety old bridge over a raging water below.

One of those who knew my mother, said that she put me in a shoe box lined with cotton and then placed that on the door of the stove so I could stay warm. I only weighed 2 pounds when I was born. Back in the 1940’s, they did not have special intensive care units for small babies as they do now. Most of those who were that small died. Mother gave me life, and then helped me survive for the time she was well enough to watch over me.

Sissy told me a story once, that mother used to drink coffee and she would boil it on the stove, then put it in the window sill to cool. One morning, she placed her cup of coffee in the window sill to cool while she was in another room doing something. My sister pulled a chair up to the sink then helped me up on it. She reached up and brought the cup of coffee down. She said that together, we drank it, and then fearing mother might get upset, we put mud into the cup and filled it with water, then put it back on the windowsill.

When mother came in and saw what we had done, she chased us around the house and when she got us, rather than beat us, she tickled us in the tummy until we all giggled together and then told us to never do that again.

When sissy shared this with me, I was living in a yard with animals for mothers. My sister was hiding behind the grape arbor and whispered it to me so she would not be heard.

Our step-mother at that time was not a good example of motherhood. I was not yet 5 years old and animals were kinder to me than she who was suppose to be my mother. I was born in October 1945, my mother died in April 1949.

My sister was a mother to me. She pushed bread under the door of the closet so I could eat. She told me bible stories and taught me music when she found mother’s bible and autoharp. She allowed me to hear words my father spoke to mother and her while he was out to sea during World War II. She spoke to me whenever she could, and suffered for me when our step-mother tossed scalding water at me for not being quick. It seemed as though those who loved me paid a high price for that love.

When I was rescued, the doctors wrote down that if I had been outside much longer I would not have survived. I had what is called “protein malnutrition.” I had survived by eating fruit that fell from the trees, and berries which grew on the back fence and around the yard. I was kept warm by cuddling with animals at night. All children need mothers.

One of those who could have been a mother to me, was a woman who sent me to a school that taught of Jesus Christ. I do not know how old I was, but I do know I had not turned 10 years old yet. Many years later, I learned she had told her own child that if abortion had been legal back then, her last child would never have been born. To me, a woman who could tell a child such a horrible thing is not a mother. However, she did give the child life, and the child who that mother said should not have been born, became a good mother to her own children.

My first example of real motherhood came from a woman who never had a child of her own. This good woman treated every child who came within her care with such tender love and encouragement, for me and hundreds of other children, she was a real mother.

She made sure we had food to eat, clean living quarters, laughter, lessons in many areas, and protected us from evil. She gave me the first example of good, clean love. I shall be eternally grateful to her for that.

I believe in motherhood. I believe that every child deserves a mother who can nurture and protect them and teach them by example how to be a good person. I know that good mothers deserve good husbands who will help them be safe, provide for their families and love their children.

One of the highest honors I received was when one of my step-daughters told me how much she loved me. She thanked me for the time we had together. She had never known a mother’s love, and I had the honor of being a mother to her.

My other step-daughter was shocked when I stood up to her father on her side and how her father backed away and felt shame. Even though I only had her a few times, I was blessed to be a grandmother to her children.

It was an honor to teach them right from wrong and encourage them to not be like those who should have loved them. To let them know that it did not matter what they had done in the past, they deserved to improve and find peace rather than shame.

I was blessed to teach my step-son how a mother should be. He saw that his own father was a better man because of the example of a good mother in the home. (I say this not to brag, but to show that a woman’s influence can make the difference between sorrow and happiness, good and evil). That boy became a better man because I was able to teach him right from wrong with God’s love rather than cruelty and encouraged him to be a better man than he could have become. All I did was treat him as if he were my own son. I am so proud of him for the act of courage he displayed when others tried to force him to do evil.

God gave us women a special gift. For those who love the Lord, and accept the Atonement, we can become mothers even if we never have our own children. When we follow the examples of good women, we are only walking where God wants us to walk. We are becoming just like our Heavenly Mother. Motherhood is a divine calling, in my humble opinion. We have been given the honor of helping the children of God to be safe and to feed, nourish and respect them with love while they are upon the earth.

In this troubled world, we need to show those who are not mothers and only gave birth, how to repent and become mothers. When we make mistakes, we need to tell our children we are sorry, and then prove we are sorry by doing better.

One example I had of a real mother was back in 1982 in Sunland, California. This good woman allowed me to be mother to her children for a period of time and I learned by watching her and then applying what I learned. I saw how to handle it when a child does something wrong and how to say sorry when I was wrong and the child was right.

There are many mothers in the world. But as I stated earlier, giving birth to a child does not make a woman a mother. My heart goes out to all those who have murdered their unborn children because they were tricked into not knowing abortion is really murder. I know that those sweet spirits forgave those women. I know that those wee ones went right back to the highest degree of the highest heaven. Jesus loves children and so should we all.

 

 

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#Adversity, #Atonement, #BeCauseHeLives, #Cancer, #Chronic Illness, #Comfort, #Faith, #FamilyOfGod, #Healing, #MentalHealth, #Pain, #Suffering, #Testimony, Uncategorized

Enduring

Enduring is not easy. Oh no! Yet, when I think about my Lord, and all He went through, I know that what I go through is minor. Did you ever notice how when we hear other people’s problems our own are not as bad?

Many of my friends also suffer in various ways. I pray for them, and I know they pray for me, that our pain may be lessened. Some of the people I admire most have been those who suffered much more than I ever will. Just to name two: Spencer W. Kimball and Neal A. Maxwell. Yet they endured well. I pray I may be as valiant as they.

We all suffer in one form or another. The thing that keeps me going is my faith in Jesus Christ. When I am in great pain, I do what my doctor(s) tell me to do, yet I also take it to the Lord. I am a firm believer that  Jesus Christ has restored the Priesthood back to the Earth to bless men and women, and so I ask for blessings at the hands of those who not only hold, but “honor” that Priesthood. Just because someone says they are a priest does not make then one. Only those who “Honor Their Covenants” and “Keep the Commandments or strive so to do” are worthy to hold the “Power” that comes with that calling. (Just my humble opinion.)

Anne Morrow Lindbergh wisely cautioned:

“I do not believe that sheer suffering teaches. If suffering alone taught, all the world would be wise, since everyone suffers. To suffering must be added mourning, understanding, patience, love, openness and the willingness to remain vulnerable” (quoted in “Lindbergh Nightmare,” Time, 5 February 1973, 35).

Certain forms of suffering, endured well, can actually be ennobling.

Annie Swetchine said,

“Those who have suffered much are like those who know many languages; they have learned to understand and be understood by all” (quoted in Neal A. Maxwell, We Will Prove Them Herewith [1982], 123).

When I reflect upon my Saviour and think upon all he endured at the hands of others, I cringe. I tend to whine from time to time over my struggles, yet He never did. They spit upon him. They beat him. They scourged him with whips. They cast him in prison. They dragged him through the town naked and placed a crown of thorns upon his head, before they nailed him to that cross. And to make it even worse, they did that “after” he had bled at every pore because of the pains, mourning, depression, injustice and sins of everyone who ever has been born, who was then alive, and all who would yet be born. Yet, he still had compassion.

Jesus Christ rose victorious over death and He did that for you and me. Our pains only last a short time compared to the pains of those who reject him or refuse to repent of their own sins.

Another wise man, who was also a prophet of God, Gordon B. Hinckley once said,

“Don’t get discouraged, things will work out!”

I hung that quote with his photograph on the wall in my bedroom. When I am feeling sorry for myself, and start to get discouraged, I look up and see it, and know things will work out. I turn my head and look upon my other wall and see the picture of the current Prophet, Thomas S. Monson, and think about him telling me to:

“Be more positive…”

When President Ezra Taft Benson called me to Salt Lake City, Utah, he said (among other things):

“Hang the words of the prophets on your walls, and then go out and do good.”

I am a firm believer in following the prophets and have always been blessed because I do that. It is not that I do not experience problems, for I surely do. It is that after – I experience greater blessings and that makes it worth whatever I have gone through.

In the Holy Bible we read:

“And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name’s sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life.” (Matthew 19:29)

God does not lie.

Gentle hugs from a distance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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#Abuse, #America, #Brothers, #ChildAbuse, #Children, #Chronic Illness, #Comfort, #Compassion, #Daughters, #Depression, #Despair, #Faith, #FamilyOfGod, #Fathers, #Female, #Girls, #Healing, #Help, #Hope, #Humans, #Light, #love, #Male, #Men, #MentalHealth, #Mercy, #Mothers, #respect, #Sisters, #Suffering, #Suport, #Testimony, #Truth, #VictimsOfAbuse, #Women, Uncategorized

You don’t believe in God?

Earlier this week, I read a post by a lady that broke my heart. I share my answer here for all who do not believe that God exists since He allows bad things to happen.

My dear Sister, it sounds as though you have been abused in horrible ways, and my heart goes out to you. I wish I could comfort you by putting my arms around you and taking you away from those who harmed you. But, I am not there in person. I can only share with you what I have learned in my 70 years of life.

Right now, you do not believe that God exists, however, that is only because you don’t know Him. Bless your heart. That is not your fault. All you have experienced is the pain of life, not the joy of knowing Him.

God will not stop anyone from using their own agency. At times, we must step back mentally and allow others to do what they do. We can warn and caution, but then we must let them make their own choices. God will make them pay for what they have done to you. Those who are kind to you, will be blessed for that kindness. If you make bad choices, He will not stop you, for the same reason.

At one time there was a major war regarding two options: our having the right to choose for ourselves or being compelled to do everything. Jesus Christ came to Earth in a body just like ours so that He could learn how we feel and why we do the things we do. He came to help us be able to get back home – where we are loved and cared for. He also had to suffer at the hands of evil people, just as we do. The only difference between Jesus Christ and us is that He was half God and half Mortal. The mortal part meant He could die a physical death. The God part meant he had the power within himself to overcome death and finish the plan God wanted for us who chose agency.

The fact that you have a body of flesh and bone with blood means that you chose agency. Which meant you would have to suffer, just as Jesus Christ suffered. Which also meant you would have to allow others their agency as well.

God is anxious to bless you, but you must trust Him. Do you know how tiny a mustard seed is? Go to a garden shop and ask to see one. A mustard seed amount of faith is all you need to ask for God’s help to understand. He will help you to find Him. He will do that for you, I promise. I was an abused as a baby, child and youth. When I was a young adult I was also abused in ways that would make your skin crawl. Yet, I came to know that God cares. He really does and He will show you if you will allow Him to.

Sorry to be so long winded, but I could not sleep until I bore my testimony to you. Gentle hugs from a sister who has been there, and come to really know God personally. You are one of His daughters, and He wants you to know that. Look at the sky in the morning and think about what there is to bless you. The very air you breathe, trees and flowers, animals, planets and stars, and YOU!

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#Actions, #America, #Brothers, #Family, #Fathers, #Female, #Humans, #Justice, #Male, #Men, #Mothers, #peace, #PureLove, #Sisters, #Testimony, #TheWorld, #Truth, #UnitedStates, #Women, Uncategorized

To Donald Trump

It appears you may become our next president of the United States, and I have some concerns. As I saw you in a prayer circle of Christian men and women, I trust that you are a Christian man yourself. Nevertheless, from your recent comments, I am not sure you are aware of a few things, which I share with you here.

America is a land which has been dedicated and consecrated unto God, your Heavenly Father, and set apart by the lives of thousands of men and women. Many of our brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, came to this continent and have given of their time and energy, and their very lives to protect America as a land of freedom for all of God’s children. This is God’s Country, even though many do not believe that any longer. God will not be mocked.

God gave us agency to choose for ourselves whom we would worship and serve. Some call it “free” agency, yet God and His beloved son, even Jesus Christ, suffered greatly to give us this gift. Jesus Christ became the Saviour of all of your Heavenly Father’s children by coming to earth to show us the way to return home. He not only lived, but suffered every form of temptation and anguish, pain, sorrow and loneliness,  so we could keep that gift of agency. In fact, Jesus Christ died to show the truth regarding the resurrection of man. He proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is in fact life after death.

The “Proclamation to the World” shares what God has to say about families and our relationships and also shares the calamities which are coming unless people repent. If you have not read it, I suggest you do.

Many of us have made wrong choices in our youth and growing up years. Some even continue as adults to make wrong choices, however, God has said that when a person repents we are to forgive them and fellowship them. Nonetheless, if they do not repent, then we need to stay apart from them, and pray for them.

If you become President of the United States, you have said you would build a wall around our nation and keep all others out. I wonder if you have forgotten that by building a wall, you also lock people in. You were born after Hitler took control of Europe, so probably know nothing about the horrors committed against millions of people, nor the shame and guilt Hitler caused many thousands who followed him to suffer after they came to their senses and realized what they had done.  When history is forgotten, it is repeated.

Sir, you also spoke of torturing those who believe differently than you do. Again, that sounds very much as Stalin or Hitler and those who followed them. I know that many do not believe the holocaust happened, but I know it did. Since the Gospel of Jesus Christ has been restored to the earth that have been wars and rumors of wars; Earthquakes in divers places around the world; Famine and poverty in many nations, including our own. Would you have Americans become a nation of murders? Would you really want us to become such as those of the ISIS population? I pray not!

The way the Lord and the early day prophets described this is as “birth pains”. They started mild and now have grown more frequent and more severe. Our day has become very much worse since that time of the Civil War. I wonder sir, if you remember why that war was fought? Once again, it was about agency or by another name: freedom. Some wanted slaves, other wanted to free them. This thing regarding freedom has always caused much bloodshed.

Many people do not believe that God is alive. They feel that when Jesus died, that was it. Some believe the Christ has not yet come. Many do not believe in the resurrection, nor do they believe in work for their dead.

I personally know what it is liked to be raped and tortured by multiple people and find out you are with child. Yet, I also know that God is not the father of such unhappiness.  He does not want us to be unhappy, but rather to have real joy and happiness, not only after we die, but while we are upon this earth. This is part of the reason He gave us Commandments, so we could find happiness and joy while upon the earth. He is not the Father of cruelty to others of His children. Yet, He will allow evil to happen to His children, because He gave us all our agency. Only, those who do evil must and shall pay a horrific price if they do not repent.  Their pains will be worse than what the Lord, Jesus Christ went through Himself, unless they repent. He bled at every pore from the pain. It was not only on the cross that He suffered.

May God bless you to make the correct choices, that you may have a change of heart regarding our Nation as well as all other Nations. Sir, every person living and dead are children of your Heavenly Father. If you do not believe me, ask God and read your version of the Holy Bible if you have one.

I so pray you will repent before you get into office, for I know America has stopped being what God and our forefathers intended it to be. In my humble opinion, from what I have seen and heard, many no longer care about God and truth, nor doing what is right in the eyes of God. Please Sir, repent before our once great nation is destroyed.

 

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