#Abuse, #Catholics, #Christians, #God, #Healing, #Jews, #Kindness, #LDS, #Pain, #Trust

Kindness is contagious

A police officer was the first human to show me kindness. When he lifted me and covered my nakedness, he smiled at me in a kind way. He rescued me from certain death and took me to a hospital, while his partners arrested those whom should have been kind to me and the ambulance drivers took care of my big sister.

As a child, I was considered “retarded”, because of how I coped with situations over which I had no control. By the time I was 5 years old, I had been in and out of foster homes and hospitals. My mother died when I was 3 years 5 months old and from then until that officer rescued me, my sister and I had known only cruelty. The judge called me a “feral child” and those who should have taken care of me “animals”. Yet, real animals have always been kind to me.

For those who were trying to be kind (the doctors, nurses, therapists, and others): I was having to deal with things I did not understand, so I did not behave the way a “normal” child would. I did not speak, only because I had been trained to not speak, not because I did not know how (But they did not know that). I used my fingers to eat, only because I had been forced to live outside and did not have silverware, plates, cups etc. Animals had shown me how to drink and eat so I had survived in spite of the odds.

The staff at the hospital had to restrain me to a bed, only because up until then I had not been allowed to be on a bed and was afraid to be up that high. I had no idea what a bathroom was supposed to be used for, because the only time I was in one: someone was trying to kill me. I did what I needed to do on the floor as I had done outside on the ground behind the grape arbor. I did not know how to be clean as most people know clean, nor brushing of teeth, etc. To the world’s view, I was “retarded”. Not because God made me that way, but because men and women had made me that way.

There was one nurse in particular, and even though I don’t know her name, I shall never forget her and what she did for me. She was the first to help me understand goodness and patience. As a wee child, to be honest, people scared me. I kept expecting someone to do to me what had been done in the past, and thus I struggled when people tried to help me. For me, it was life or death, but they did not understand that. In the hospital, I slept under the bed when they did not restrain me. I could not stand up due to damage, until after doctors fixed my body. Pain was normal for me, but this pain was to relieve pain, and that was confusing to me. I was not used to “not” having pain.

The nurse of whom I speak was able to take me into the bathroom because of her kindness. While she kept me on the toilet, she did not force me, but rather she sat on the floor next to the toilet to keep me company. She talked to me as she waited for me to “use” it. I can not tell you how long it took, I just know when I finally did “use” it, that nurse clapped her hands and then gently lifted me down. Her touch was kindness, not cruelty; something I was not used to. The only other person who had shown me kindness was that police officer. As she showed me the rest of what I needed to learn, I was not afraid and I did learn. Normally when people touched me there was pain, but with her, there was no pain; when other people wanted me to do something, there was pain, but never from her.

As an adult, when I am under a lot of stress, I still cope in ways others may not understand. Yet, for me, I found ways to survive and I am a good member of society. I learned by remembering the kindness of certain strangers and trying to be like them.

As a religious person, I know where goodness comes from. I hope my life can help others to know when they are kind, they are appreciated more than they will ever know. When they are kind to those whom they do not understand, they are the hands and heart of God in teaching others that all humans are not cruel.

To those who asked me to share this part of my life: thank you for asking. I do hope others will think before they judge how people behave. There is always a reason we do what we do. God loves His children, but not all His children, love children. Thank you for being one who does love God’s children.

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#BeCauseHeLives, #Christian, #Depression, #Faith, #Gift, #God, #Hope, #Jesus Christ, #loss, #Mercy, #Pain, #Patience, #peace, #Prayer, #Trust, #Truth, #Women

Sad memories

I can remember when I began to bleed and was rushed to the hospital. My husband came and sat beside me, holding my hand. I had just given birth to a little a few months previously, and did not really know what was going on.

Then, the doctor came in and said, “It’s cancer. We need to get you upstairs right away. You will have no more children.” He then looked at my husband as the nurse gave me a shot. My husband went with him and I went to sleep.

When I was able to go home, my husband paced behind the couch. I asked him to come hold me. He back up. Then, he said, ‘I can’t take this. A baby is one thing, cancer is something else. I need to leave, now.” He walked out the door and drove off.

I was so alone, so scared, and had no one to call or any way to find comfort. I put a blanket around my baby and get into my car and just drove.

Tears fell down my face and I don’t remember what my thoughts were. I just know I drove until I saw the red lights flashing in my rear view mirror. I pulled the car over to the side of the road, and the officer motioned me to roll down my window.

“Did you know you were going over 100 miles an hour?” he asked. I continued to cry and then he leaned over and looked at my little girl on the front seat. He asked me to step out of the car, which I did, and then he talked to me. I spoke of what had happened, and he took us to a coffee shop and we talked. He made a phone call, then told me to follow him. He took me home to be with his wife, who held me and comforted me until I could stop crying.

I was there for 3 days and nights, while she cared for me and my child. Then, I went home, and began to think of how I was going to care for a child and still have my treatments. How was I going to work… Life was never easy, but I did what I had to do. I survived, until the next bout of cancer stuck it’s ugly head up.

Sorry to be so down tonight. I should have been in bed almost an hour ago. I shall return and then begin again. Good night.

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#BeCauseHeLives, #Christian, #God, #JesusChrist, #LDS, #LDSConf, #Mormon, #peace, #Trust

My very first living prophet

I joined and began to be active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-saints when Spencer W Kimball was called of God to be the leader of His son’s church. I testify that He was a living prophet and now has died and gone the way of all the earth. This man was a man of illness and in great pain. He suffered so much, yet he walked with God and was directed by God in what all of us need to hear so that we too may be able to go home in honor. I respected him greatly.

Did you know that when we do what is right it gives God joy? It’s true. And not only that, He gives us great joy as well. It makes me feel good to know that I can give back something to someone who loves me so much. How about you?

One of the things he asked us to do was send our pedigree charts to Salt Lake City, Utah, which is the headquarters of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-saints. At first, I felt sick. I mean, I had no clue who I was. I had been raised by animals and those who did not love me. Up until I joined the Lord’s church I wanted nothing to do with them. However, I did want to be obedient, so I went to the family history department of the ward in which I resided and asked how to prepare mine. The people there were most kind and walked me through the steps.

I’m not going to go into a lot of detail, but I shall tell you this: when you are obedient to a man of God, you receive blessings from God himself.

Now, don’t think I follow blindly. Oh no! I remember the Jones people and those others who followed false prophets. Back in the Old Testament, Ezekiel spoke of false prophets and what God would do to anyone who tried to lead us astray. Go to Ezekiel chapter 14 and read what that prophet had to say. It might shock you.

When you hear someone say that they are a prophet of God, I suggest you ask God if that man was called by Him . He’ll tell you so you can have no doubt. He prepares them years and years before He calls them to that position.

Not to put others down, however If I may, I’d like to share a funny, yet sad story with you. I have many friends who are also disabled. I have one female friend who has no legs. Another woman where we were living invited she and I to go to church with her. We did. She was telling us how this man was a prophet and we were going to the temple where he held meetings. When we went inside the back of a strip mall, there was a large wooden cross up front with wheelchairs, crutches, and canes leaning against that cross. Everyone was praising Jesus and swaying too and fro. I felt they had the spirit of love of the Lord. I sat patiently and listened as he quoted scripture, then he said he wanted to bless someone. He came over to my friend, and placing his hands on her head, told her to stand up and walk. Every one in the room shouted “Amen”.

I hate to disappoint anyone, but God does not work that way. She did not sprout new legs, nor was she able to stand and walk. When she quit laughing, they asked us to leave, and the girl who brought us was very angry that we had embarrassed her in front of her friends.

If you want to see real prophets, I suggest you attend a General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-saints. Or go online https://www.lds.org/general-conference?lang=eng  You can listen in many different languages.

They look just like ordinary people. They come from all races and occupations and all countries. God is not a partial God. He loves all His children. and rather you believe it or not, you are one of His children.

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I am a child of God

Elder L. Whitney Clayton said, “We will not accidentally come to believe in the Savior.” during the 2015 April General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day-saints.

I do love prophets, both the living and the dead. The first good I can remember is when my sister read to me from the Holy Bible which contains the stories of prophets and how people lived. Both the good and the bad. It is good to know that my mother believed in God. I remember a picture of an angel watching two little children cross an old rickety bridge over a raging water below hanging over the bed in our bedroom. Then, in 1949 when mother died, that picture was taken down and I never saw it again. The bible had been locked away by my father, in a box attached to the back of a trailer, along with an Autoharp and other precious treasures of mothers. I only saw my father a few times after that night. The bible wasn’t found until a year or so later. However, I talked to God each night, as I lay in the open yard looking up into the sky. I did not know if He heard me or not, but now, I know He must have.

In early years, people tended to laugh at me or after I learned how to talk, they thought I was a liar. Doctor’s tend to label children that are different. When I went to the hospital the first time, after the police rescued us, they called me the “animal child.” I was only a wee child back then, and since I’d never had a birthday I have no clue how old I was.

Jumping ahead to 1973: two young men came to my door while I was living in Yuma, Arizona. At that time I was babysitting several children, and had been finger painting with them in the dinning room. I grabbed a towel and went to the door. I asked if I could help them, and one asked, “Did you know you can do work for your worthy dead?” I must share with you, this is not the normal way for a missionary to introduce themselves. I know that the Holy Spirit told him exactly what to say to me. At that time, I believed my loved ones were all dead. I let them know I was busy just then, however, if they could come back later I would love to hear more. They agreed and did return later.

After telling me that I am a child of God and we are all brothers and sisters, they gave me a book. While they had only ask me to read one or two verses, I sat up and read all night long. Just before dawn I locked myself in the bathroom and got on my knees to ask God if this was really from Him. The air began to get very thick and I began to vomit blood, yet I kept praying. I really wanted to know if I was being tricked or if I had really felt that same spirit as from the Holy Bible. I know whenever the air gets thick something bad was about to happen, but I kept praying until I got my answer. I did not see a vision, nor did I hear a voice, but I felt such peace in my heart, I knew it was the same Spirit.

The Elders returned and asked me to do certain things; such as stop drinking coffee, tea, and alcohol. They asked if I would be willing to pay 10% of my income to God. They asked if I would be willing to go to Church with them on Sunday. I told them I’d need to pray about it, but I’d get back to them. After they left, I went from room to room, gathering everything I knew was displeasing to God, went into the kitchen, opened the back door and tossed them outside. You see, I had read the Old Testament so I knew what Moses had told the Israelite people and I knew that they were blessed many times because they did what God told Moses. So it was easy to give up my sins so I could become what God wanted me to be. For me, it was just that simple.

I had wanted to be a daughter of God since I was just a little girl. And here I was being told I am a daughter of God and beloved by His son, Jesus Christ. I wish I could say I remained faithful since that day, however, back then I did not understand that when you join the Church you don’t become perfect overnight. When women saw those missionaries at my home every night for dinner and staying until after dark, they began to gossip.  When I was told the missionaries had to be transferred because of me, I became very angry. I had never known what “the appearance of evil” was. I knew that God knew we had done nothing wrong. I had not had loving parents to teach them how to control myself.

I believe that God’s Church is where ever there are people who follow Him and are baptized by those who have the authority to do that, rather like John the Baptist. Not just anyone can do that. Only those who have been called of God to do this, as John was. I’m looking forward to shaking John’s hand sometime in the future. Anyway, it was many years later before Father sent more missionaries to find me. This time He sent young women, and the rest is history.

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