I am a former atheist who discovered Jesus in June of 2000. Now I am a chaplain and a licensed UPC minister who loves the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind and strength. . . I once was blind, but now I see. . . never say never.
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Dark & light clouds are mythical. Clouds without illumination can never be white. As no cloud basking in the sun can long cling to darkness.
Lessons learned when you were four become much more meaningful. . . The temperature of the whole world chills a little. . . Toll House cookies are no longer merely a snack, but a monument. . . Mothers day changes from an obligation to a craving. . . Sometimes the air thins and you gasp for breath just sitting in a chair. . . Crying for Mommy returns after a fifty year absence. . . You lose something vast and precious that you didn't even know you had. . . You crave being held and hugged all the time. . . The last time you spoke to her is now at the bottom of a big ache. . . Tears are found in totally unexpected places. . . Never again. . . her magical home made vegetable soup. . . wonderful green beans, potatoes, and ham that aren't falling apart and soupy. . .meat loaf with just the perfect amount of ketchup on top. . . those just right crispy fried potatoes. . . never again. . . for ever. . . Your chance to repay an enormous debt is lost. . . You lose
My mother had a stroke on May 1st. The doctors said that she would be a vegetable. . . I write these words a few days before Mother's Day 2007. This morning my sister and I met my Mom's doctor to discuss her future. I am appreciative of what he is trying to do. He wants us to begin thinking of things that we want to keep covered and out of sight. His experiences with similar cases, I am sure are valuable to him, but this is not a usually or a most often, this is not a past history, this is my Mom. She lies critically ill in a bed, unconscious, receiving her nourishment, and air through a tangled umbilical of hoses, lines and cords. We grasp at every positive hint. We make excuses for dark signs. This is our Mom. . . God made Eve from Adam's rib. I came from someplace deeper and much more intimate than a rib. I suspect (being an outsider to the mystery) that the tearing, the parting of birth is both physical and emotional. Birth being only the first wrenching separation in
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