THIS IS A STORY OF GOD’S LOVE CHASE AFTER THE BROKEN, REJECTED, CAST OFF AND FORLORN.
This story is of the true meaning of love "to whosoever will come", and my testimony of restoration. I know that Jesus came to heal the broken hearted.
Healing love always thinks the best, and rejoices when truth wins out. 1Corinthians 13th chapter.
God taught me about God's love in 25 years in the marriage of my youth that was fraught with heartache from abuse from alcohol. God equipped and empowered me to live life with love and peace in His love-chase after the alcoholic who was His wounded treasure.
Raised in a Catholic home that believed marriage is till death do us part, my parents were married 72 years. I had a happy childhood. My dad, Troy Madden, was greatly admired as a Seattle Fire Chief, and was 2nd in line to the Chief of Seattle. Dad brought Medic One to Seattle, and mom was a stay-at-home mom from a Belgium immigrant family who homesteaded in Ketchikan, Alaska. We spent summers and weekends at a primitive cabin in the San Juan Islands, on Guemes Island, one of 172 islands,in NW Washington State. We had no electricity, or indoor plumbing. We heated with wood, had an outhouse and a hand dug well . I had a good childhood on the beaches where I galloped big race horses, and in the woods out of doors.
Still, as I grew into my teen years, I felt there was something more about love than what I had experienced. There was a deeper call within me that YEARNED for the intense MEANING OF LOVE and the expression of that love.
My parents wanted to send me to college because I wanted to be a nurse, so I took all the college prep courses with a 3.8 grade average, but in 1955, at the age of 16 I'd met a handsome 18 year old sailor on a blind date and fell head over heels in love with him. We married two years later in 1957, right out of high school with a big formal Catholic wedding. Even though I put aside my desire to be a nurse, I always had something in me that cared for people.
Don (names changed) resembled Elvis Presley with his handsome tall dark good looks and deep blue eyes who loved kids and dogs. He was a highly intelligent, moral and principled man, who reminded me of my dad. With a promise for the future, destined to be a naval officer, I was devoted to him as my husband and father of our 6 children.
Don turned out to be a man with closet anger, who began to drink rum and coke. God was about to show me HIS love-chase after the alcoholic, my husband, who was obsessed with rejection and abandonment, since childhood.
Don had "aced" Officer Candidate School for the U.S. Navy, then rejected that opportunity to become an officer, that would have given us a higher standard of living. He stayed in Enlisted man corps, saying, "I'd rather be a big
fish in a little pond, than a little fish in a big pond". I felt that he had sold himself short to what he was capable of doing, he never gave me an opportunity to encourage him, but kept his decision to himself.
Disappointed in a lower standard of living than our marriage dream, I accepted his career choice as I didn't want to be responsible for a choice he'd resent. Don advanced to the top of his career in 30 years as a Radar Chief with an arm full of 7 gold hash marks, one for every 4 years of unblemished service.
However, he became manic/depressive with a maniacal temper that erupted in violent episodes from slight offenses taken over innocuous remarks that escalated into character assassinations, and false accusations. Controlling, jealous, and accusing in outbursts of sudden violence interspersed with more drinking. By the time I was 23 he beat me in a drunken rage, because I was too tired for sex with 4 babies, including a newborn. He kicked me out of bed, dislocated my jaw with one blow and knocked it back with the next, grabbed my long hair tore my hair out to bang my head against the wall until I was knocked senseless. My mother's milk for our newborn son soaked my gown.
He was evil; not the man I thought I'd married. He told me it was my fault, and I would destroy his Security Clearance if I reported him.That would be the end of his career, we would have no income.. I believed him. Plus, he threatened that if I ever left him, that he would hunt me down and kill me. I believed him. . This young girl of 24 was terrorized, and didn't know what to do. He'd become an alcoholic, but I remembered him as the man he could be; the man that I'd thought I'd married.
By the time I was 26 we'd been married 8 years and had 6 children, 4 fine sons and identical twin daughters born in 5 duty ports all over the United States and Hawaii. I was either pregnant and moving, or I'd just had a baby and moving, but...I was moving! Our many military separations
up to 6 months at a time provided a buffer between us to recover from the abuse. Military ship movements actually enabled and prolonged our struggles . Although he'd hurt my heart many times, hope for his change, kept me from leaving. In 1962, God had come to me in my backyard with a choir of angels to encourage me. Then, I asked God for twins, and they were born on Christmas Day.
Half way through our marriage of 25
years,1971 war in Vietnam loomed dark on our horizon. Stationed in Long Beach,Ca. 1,000 miles from home in Seattle he prepared to go to war off the coast of Vietnam for 6 months. The ship, U.S.S. Henderson DER
(Destroyer Escort Radar), went to sea on training exercises to prepare for war. As a Radar Chief, he prepared to be deployed to lob artillery into enemy strongholds. The ship's fire power indiscriminately killed civilians, women and children. Spotters in trees, gave body counts that filled him with guilt and remorse. He returned with Post Traumatic Stress on top of an already troubled mind.
Prior to the ship being deployed for Viet Nam, Don got drunk on rum and coke every night with pre-deployment jitters for what he was facing and concerns about leaving family alone. Yes, he had a protective side that cared for us, and was very fiscally responsible as a good provider, and was a faithful man.
During this stress, a discipline problem came up with our youngest son, 8 years old was seen playing with matches by stomping them out in a dry field that could have set the field on fire.
Don asked him if he was playing with matches, he admitted it, then blamed
his 10 year old brother!
I was in the kitchen, totally unaware of the cruelty about to break out. Don wanted to teach them a lesson about fire by burning their fingers. He grabbed his wrist and forced him to hold a lighted match until the flame went out against his finger tips. The little boy screamed "No dad! No dad !" He did this 3 times. Three times, the fire and pain from fire was forced on him escalated, no stopping him, and looked like no end.. His innocent 10
yr. old brother was next. When I realized what was happening, I jumped in to stop him. Joey hollered, but grasped in his father's grip, couldn't defend himself. I screamed for him to stop it! Don's face
contorted with hatred, as he threw out his arm, pointed a finger in my face and shouted, "and YOU STAY OUT OF IT OR I'LL MAKE IT WORSE!". Ohmygod, he'll make it worse, I reeled back, and they both broke free and ran screaming past me out the door holding their burned fingertips up by the wrist, screaming in terror down the street through our Navy housing in anguished trauma driven by pain and betrayal of their father; the man who is supposed to protect them. My 8 year old son was last seen still running and screaming 3 blocks away.
Don stormed into the kitchen, smashed his rum and coke into the sink, broken glass
flew everywhere as he spat at me, "You take care of these kids!", he threw his bags together and left for the ship, as he ordered me "and don't be on the dock when the ship comes back!". He meant it. I usually took him to the ship in our only car, but he took the car and left me stranded.
He'd had a meltdown and had left. I was alone with the family. He was done and abandoned us, forever.. Feeling that we were all against him, and I had interfered with what he called his "discipline". He'd escalated the "pre-deployment tension" to a new level. Like his father, and his father before him, abandoned their families, We were the 3rd generation of father abandonment.
Standing there helpless in the hallway; my husband had left me, my boys were
gone, and I didn't know where they were, and I had no car. Our 5 year old twin girls and sons 9 and 12 were home. I bedded the children down, but my 2 youngest sons didn't come home for dinner, or even for all night. I stayed
up worried, scared, brokenhearted, pacing all night. One little 8 year old boy slept in a dumpster that night, 12 miles from home in Lakewood, California. They'd separated, the 10 year old found a bush to sleep under.
In the morning my boys found a phone and called me. I called the Shore Patrol to bring them home. They scolded me, "Those spoiled
kids need to be spanked for running away!" They had work to do; they had to, "go chase crooks", but how little they knew about us. They went and got them anyway.
The ship left port, and I got the car back, I didn't hear from my husband for 6 months. Although he wanted me to go home, I stayed in my grief, fighting for my husband, for my man I married, in a forever marriage that I could not let go of. Divorce and going home to Seattle a welfare mother with 6 kids was not an option for a Catholic woman with six children who needed a father.
I loved him with compassion, because I
saw the good in him through the childhood issues of abuse that triggered him, and thought he
could change.I desperately sought answers from the Lord in Sunday Mass that left me empty.
The only other option I had was to fight to keep the
family's father and get him restored "for the sake of the
family", rather than divorce "for the sake of the family". Now, in those days, we didn't have support for abused women or even shelters, and there I was with no understanding. Years earlier, I sought a psychologist who asked me, "What did you do to cause it?". I didn't cause it! I had to scrounge money for bus fare and risk my life to get help. Now he said it was my fault, but I was the victim!
My mother in Seattle, told me about a 6-week course of study for the Christian wife that taught how to love and understand her husband. She
had the classic Catholic understanding, and she had told me, "You made your bed, you lie
in it", but thought this might help me, "lie in my bed"so I found a class in a Nazarene Church. I bravely went outside my protective the Catholic
Church, guarded against a conversion, as I dared to enter the Protestant Nazarene doors because I was so desperate for answers I'd hoped I would find to save my marriage.
Thankfully, the course emphasis was on understanding and appreciating your husband, not on religion. The Bible was "dumbed down" or I probably wouldn't have accepted the teachings. I did learn that my mother hadn't taught me much. I had used my dad as a good example of someone I wanted to marry, and thought that I had found him in my husband. I learned to see my husband as a man with a man's feelings in ways I'd never thought about before, to understand his emotional need to feel appreciated and admired, and to see I had misunderstood his masculine reactions. I learned how to support him in ways that didn't hurt his masculine pride, that would soften him and arouse his desire to protect and love me.
As my eyes were opened, I
realized I had a part in our troubles, and owned my sins of omission rather than commission. I never swore at him, called him names, or mean, but I had not shown him appreciation for
his role as our protector and provider, or in his fiscal leadership, nor had I expressed
encouragement for him to be the man he could be, and praise for the man I loved. I learned he may have lived
a life of quiet desperation as he sought to gain recognition and respect from me. Starved for my love and appreciation turned into resentment and exaggerated his suppressed anger, making it impossible to talk with him.
I wasn't responsible for his demonic anger, or decision to turn to alcohol, but I was grieved over what I could have changed, and could have been mitigated. He was a wounded abused man from childhood and his own father's abandonment.
I began a letter
writing campaign to him, asking him to forgive me and give me another
chance. However, there was no forgiveness; everyday I received nothing but dead silence when the mailman passed my door his rejection was driven home to me. After two months, which equals 60 rejections, I had kept writing to him, now I got a letter. I excitedly ripped it open, only to read: "If you write one
more letter I will throw it in the ocean!". I reeled back like I'd been shot, for he was bitter with no reconciliation in mind.
I was devastated, and felt slapped down. Within a week I'd rallied back, determined not to take "No" for an answer. By golly, the stakes were high, but I was determined to count the higher cost to myself for the sake of the family, and so like "water on a rock" I
continued to write to him about his family to a man who didn't want me and who did not want us. He had turned his back and lost himself in his work, isolated on a ship lobbing shells into Vietnam with enough guilt and anger from the war to last a lifetime.
Finally, after five months I was losing hope in constant rejection. Every day I'd look down the street of Navy Housing duplexes for the mailman, coming down the row as he delivered mail from door to door, and then crushed as he passed our door. Every day another rejection stabbed my heart and I turned and wept.The other wives received mail from their husbands which they joyfully shared together under the clotheslines. Their friendly inquiries to me only drove home the point that I didn't have a husband. Rejected and left out, I realized Don would be home soon. I watched hope slip away as I was forced to face reality and give
up. I didn't think I would have to try this long or this hard..
My dad had taught me, "never give
up hope" that was deeply ingrained in me, I was a "daddy's girl". He was my role model, but I found was impossible to do. Don's directive, "Don't be on the dock when the ship comes in" rang in my ears, in conflict against my dad's admonition, "Never
give up hope. If you give up hope you might as well be dead". He was right; I might as well be dead. As a Seattle
Fire Chief, 2nd in line for the Chief of Seattle, he never gave up hope to rescue lives. His heroism was documented in the newspaper many times, and I was his daughter who held him in highest esteem.
BORN AGAIN SAVED BY GRACE!
The date was April 17, 1971, 2 days before my 32nd birthday, crushed
and isolated, a thousand miles from family, I felt a devaluation of the devastation sitting in the stink of my total failure, isolation and loss. Nothing was left. I had given my life for my husband and could do no
more. I felt God had failed me, that He didn't care for heaven was silent and rosary novenas to
Mary had not worked, my Catholic religion had also failed me. I was isolated, had no friends, felt washed-up as a failure as a wife
and mother, my six small children had no father and it was my fault, I had no future, and no
job. I didn't know how to support them, except go home as a welfare mother of six. I felt overwhelmed, and a shamed Catholic, rejected as the wife of his youth in a reproach that was not acceptable.
At the total end of myself, totally broken I could do no more. I crumbled onto my face on my
bedroom floor sobbing into the carpet, in broken puddle of grief and brokenness before God. I was so undone, I felt empty as a
black hole with nothing left and no hope. I felt like a Humpty-Dumpty, the broken egg broken in so many pieces nobody could put me back together again.
The total isolation in loneliness I experienced was overwhelming, far from home, no friends, my 6 children in grade school to care for alone. I wanted
to stop the world and get off. I didn't want my life any more, but the saving thought in the back of my mind was
that my children needed a mother and I was the only one they had.
In all those years of trouble, nobody had "come to get me" with the saving knowledge and power of Jesus Christ. I didn't even know HOW or know the term, "Born Again" from John 3:3. Jesus said, "Unless one is born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God".
Something had to change, I didn't want my life anymore as it
was. In desperation, I had gone to my knees, then to the carpet with my face to the floor, with arms spread out and cried out to to God and the four walls, "Take my life
and do with it what you want, because I don't want it any more!" and surrendered my life to God.
Suddenly, a strange light that filled the room. I looked up as the Spirit of the Lord God entered me, I felt Him come in as I sucked up my breath and filled me with joy! My mind, my whole countenance changed! I looked
up, as I slowly picked myself up off that floor a different person!
In wonder, a great love I'd never felt before in all my life had filled me up
and overwhelmed me with a joy that flooded my soul. Peace infused into me with such a fullness to the marrow of my bones. Darkness was gone! The God
of love had come into me!
I was "Born Again" and didn't even know there was a word for it!
Nobody had led me, or shown me the 4 spiritual laws of salvation. I had gone from death to new life and didn't even know what had happened!
I felt newborn, clean and shiney inside with a new start. I stood in
amazement and looked at myself. I looked the same on the outside, but on the inside was a different story.
GREAT peace deep in my bones had come upon me, and all turmoil was gone.
The contrast from being an absolute
distraught and broken person, to love joy and peace was so sudden, so great and
wonderful, I didn't think it was possible.
I had a new life, and even though I
didn't even know the words "born again", by the sovereign hand of God by the power of the Savior Jesus, that is exactly what had happened! I was truly "born anew"!
I felt like I had the answer
for all the world's problems! ...and, I had a new beginning.
The Word says, "His arm
is not short that He cannot save". "Unless a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" John 3:3
He had opened my eyes, and demonstrated to me "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. 17 for God did not send His son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved" John 3:16-17.
I felt I had an answer for the whole world couldn't wait to share with my dad! However, my hero didn't understand my experience and thought I should see a counselor.
I'd actually, just met "The Greatest Counselor" and "Prince of Peace" the world has ever known, the One whose love supersedes all, for Jesus had found me at my
lowest moment with His love and compassion, He came into me with forgiveness and wiped my slate clean!
been knocking on the door of my heart all the time, and I didn't understand that's what it was, or know how to let Him in.
In the very midst of
turmoil of death and hell itself, in its utter darkness, loneliness and despair, He brought life, and eternal life! Amazing! Something only God could do! Impossible, but true!
I was now what the Bible called, "a new creation, for the old had passed away,the new had come". I
certainly didn't earn it by doing good things for God, for whatever I had done to fix
us, was not working. All I had was dung
by comparison .
When I gave up everything, I gained everything, I exchanged my
weakness for His strength; I had a new lease on life and I knew now, that
everything would be OK, for my life belonged to Jesus Christ, and somehow, I felt a
security in that and hung onto it. I don't know how I knew it, but I just did.
Just one of those things that can't be understood naturally.
I immediately had
spiritual ears to hear, and I heard a cruel mockery with a sneer, "What did you
do THAT for? Why did you give your life to HIM!? Your life
is still the same, nothing has changed." Hiss-s, like a snake.
"It doesn't matter; my life belongs to Jesus now. He can do with it what
He wants," I meant it, for I had given up.
Immediately, I heard Jesus
thunder in my spirit like a strong masculine voice, "It is
done! It is finished!" and pushed that entity back with a voice of authority. Later I learned from the Bible that those were His
last words on the cross as He proclaimed victory over death, for He had overcome death with life and that work had obtained salvation and life and
healing for us, and the devil was now trying to steal it from me. I was in the ever present NOW of God.
With the blood bought word-spoken power of God, He sent that evil entity flying on the heels of
its own mockery, and protected His new baby as He "went to bat"
I heard this battle in my spirit for 3 days. With a solid peace, I knew I was going to be
OK. Within a few days it dawned on me that
I had a new beginning that would
actually last the rest of my life, and came with an eternal security that would last forever.
I was not my own now, but bought with a price He had paid, for the free gift of salvation. Now I belonged to Jesus, and he "came that I might have life, and that life inabundance!" This day God became real to me, and these words were fulfilled.
Only God could break the chains that bound me and let this
oppressed one go free! He came to heal the broken hearted, and to proclaim liberty to the captives! You can look it up in the Holy Bible, for the LIVING Word of God was demonstrated to me in: (Isaiah 58:6 Isaiah 61:1, same Luke 4:18)
We are bought with a price, not of our own works, lest any man should boast. It is only because of God’s undeserved kindness that you have been saved by your faith in Christ. And that salvation is not something you can work out for yourself. It is a gift from God! You can’t work for it, so no one can brag about what he did to save himself! For God is the one who worked for us, and now continues to work in us. Ephesians 2:8-10 Life Messenger Bible
A few days later, God
sent two Baptist women to lead me to the
Lord through 4 spiritual laws of Biblical principles used to show unbelievers the way. They taught me a new word, “repent” and the
phrase, ”born again”. When I heard that
Word, my spirit leaped for joy inside me, like a little man doing
cartwheels…and I knew something special was going on; I was saved! the Greek word sozo for "saved"
and Jesus' name means "Savior" or, rescued, healed, (past tense) and being made
whole (present tense). I learned that Jesus had obtained
a free salvation for me, and I had accepted it when I let Him into my life and
surrendered my life to Him with all my heart. I wouldn't receive the power anointing of Baptism in the Spirit for nearly another year. God used Jewish Michael and Martha Landsman from Harbor Christian Center, who is now a professor.
That whole week was very traumatic. I thought my dad would be glad for me, but I was hurt when my dad
thought I was crazy, then three days later, my
husband’s 32 year old sister in Illinois, died tragically from a sudden brain
aneurysm and passed away leaving 4 children, including her twin boy and girl. Even though I'd
accepted the thought of a divorce, I now felt a renewed sense of loyalty for him, that my last act of
love would be to travel from Long Beach, Ca. to represent him at his sister's funeral in Peoria, Illinois before
heading home to my family in Seattle, Washington. You see, I had a love for him that I hadn't had before.God in me.
"farmed-out" the children to 3 different families with 2 each. As I
got into the taxi to the airport the mailman was working down the row of our
Navy Housing. I asked the cab
driver, "Please wait a moment, I want to see if I got a letter", for one last time. AND I GOT A LETTER! There was THE letter I'd waited 5 months for!! He had sent it 2 weeks previous, and the timing was NOW; sitting in a cab to leave. The Lord had orchestrated
the timing! I laughed and cried, as I ripped it open to find a birthday card, "Okay, you win. I'm
coming home.P.S. Here's $20.for a new dress". That was all he said, but that was the only love letter I needed. I left in peace for Illinois with a smile, for I would be there to comfort him. His sister would pass 2 weeks after he wrote the letter.
The Navy notified him on the ship of his
sister's death, and arranged a "Humanitarian leave" that airlifted
him off the ship with a helicopter off the coast of Vietnam, then a five day
flight from 1/2 way around the world that still made him late for the funeral. He finally arrived, travel
weary and grief-stricken, but very surprised to see me! We fell into each others arms, cried, comforted and loved one another with mixed
emotions in a joyful reunion mixed with grief I kissed him all over his whole face. I was in love again, for God had given me more love for him than I had
before, and the joy of victory.
Well, I left Catholicism because the mass felt dead to me, and they didn't teach me the Word in the Bible or about being born-again.. I joined an Assembly of God church, Harbor Christian Center in
San Pedro, with Pastor Herb Ezell. His father had been at Azusa Street. This was a powerful church filled with people who knew the love and power of God, and whose lives were changed, and knew what I was talking about. I felt at home there, and in that, I also joined the millions of others around the world in my new family of God. I was not alone anymore.for I had found those who also knew the truth in the love and power of God, with miracles, signs and wonders.
With God-given love and compassion working through me for my war hero, this wounded one my childhood sweetheart, the father of my children, God began a work of love like a healing balm over him. Yet, in the struggle for his soul, still bound with
lies of rejection guilt and distrust, he cried out, “God couldn’t love me
because I’ve killed!” He suffered Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome from
the Vietnam War, guilt and anger kept him depressed in the lie from the pit; His demons stayed, and he kept drinking.
that day when I was Born Again, we were married twelve more years for a total of 25 years. Twelve, in God's economy is the number of
completion. I don't think a wife's or a mother's heart has been more
tested. After we retired from the Navy
in Seattle, came more abuse, then I heard in my spirit, "Enough is
enough", for "God is not obligated to strive with man forever". He never told me to divorce. We were separated for 2 years, as I sought for reconciliation, but he found someone else. I don't know if he ever accepted that knock on the door of his heart by the Lord God who loves him, for he was a troubled soul.
Six lives were at stake, but I trusted in God's salvation no matter what their age, that He would take care of all of us in His time and restore us, for I knew that God had the power to save my children too.That time is now, 35 years later.
And so, I closed a
chapter in our lives, even though I still had hope, I divorced with a broken heart, for I didn't even have my anger to sustain me. Compassion had given into forgiveness, and I let it go.
By now, the children were 15 to 24, and so, after 25 years of marriage we
divorced without further contact. His choice was to never see his family again, and he meant it, with "I'm not going to be a part-time father" in fact, not a father at all. The father wounds are on the sons.
HOW he could throw away such a beautiful family with six fine kids, is beyond me. I never rejected him to the children, for he is their father, 1/2 of who they are is of him. He would do a good enough job of that on himself, for they would find out on their own how he was as he continued to reject and refused to see them, or his graqndchildren.
had given him my best, and had never been manipulative, but every time I did or said something nice he always trampled on my heart in contempt and threw it back in my face with, "What do you want, now?" He constantly rejected me and the Lord's heart for him with his paranoid suspicion of an ulterior motive, and I could never prove my love had no strings attached. I only wanted HIM, and earn his trust in a marriage filled with love and intimacy of being there for each other. He didn't have the love of God for himself or for me, to sustain him, as I did for him, and I wanted that for him.
His biggest mistake was in rejecting God who loved him. I pray my sons and daughters don't make that same mistake, and be "like father, like son"! We need to break this generational curse! What the world doesn't need is another bitter man or woman. We need love of God for a changed life.
I think that we do the same thing to Father God. All He wants is US, he wants our heart. He just wants to be there for us; He just wants to be believed! in a trust is given by choice!
With forgiveness on only one side, I couldn't win and a new start with him was impossible. That love and trust, as with God, must be freely given..
issues stemmed from childhood, and could only be healed by Jesus the Christ, the one who came to heal the brokenhearted. When one says "no" to God he says"no" to love, over and over again and hardens their own heart, for God IS love.
I hope to one day see reconciliation between
him and his kids, for we've both moved on.I pray for God to turn the heart of the father to the children as in Malachai.
The parallel is that trust is freely given and crucial to seeing God as a good Father with open arms to welcome us "come on home"..like the Prodigal son.
Our marriage brought about the biggest family reunion we've ever had! Hearts were restored, with bonds of love.
Shiloh Prayer & Fasting Ranch is based on the belief that our God desires to raise up an army on fire for Jesus Christ to take back from the enemy what he has stolen, and send them out into the highways and byways to pull out those who sit in darkness and bring the power of God through Jesus Christ in peace, love and joy in the Holy Spirit. Jesus wants to restore and raise up "treasures hidden in darkness". I'm on a search for those treasures.
We are a healing place, and refuge, building a support of intercessors for those who are anointed by God, sent to pierce that darkness, and bring out the rejected, the cast off, the wounded, and the forlorn, the "whosoever will".
The cry in my heart is to the prodigal, like the Good Samaritan, someone has to go get them out, and bring them out of darkness!! Through the tragedy of brokenness, I've become an overcomer who has become a warrior against fear by faith! I feel the reason I was born is to war against fear! Faith or fear, take your pick, because if you don't have one, you WILL have the other!
the past behind, within 2 years I was married to a Christian man for 27 years until
he passed away from diabetes in 2009. We built a farm and ministry out of an
old homestead and opened our doors to the broken, the rejected, and
homeless. I continue this ministry born out of the catalyst of my own pain, that nobody had come to
"get me" when I was desperate. Somebody has to "go and get them out!" This has been my life's work, as a result, this has become the house that love has built as people we have helped us and said, "thank you" to just a little one-on-one ministry from an old 94 year old knotty pine homestead ..
IS LOVE. THAT LOVE CASTS OUT FEAR, RESENTMENT, ANGER AND BITTERNESS and covers a multitude of sins. Your father the God of love tells the truth. Otherwise, if you don't believe that, the devil, the father of lies has become your father. He makes a bad father who distorts and discredits the truth of God's love, with his lies. Which would you rather have?
Thank you Lord from the bottom of my heart, my true Father of love and truth. Increase Your presence with us.
You came when there was no one. You rescued a soul who had never even read the Bible. Jesus, You are a truly amazing Lord.
Your arm is not short that it can not save. And You love us.