A Message From Me To My Blog Readers

When I began this Blog, publishing the first post of it here 31 weeks ago, I had never done this before. I have already deeply dealt with and psychologically processed alot of things here as I have worked on each post about my life experiences, and how those, and the people involved in them, have affected me, with the effects of sin in our lives being the bottom line, to all these things, and God, by His grace, salvation, mercy, and help, being the redeeming factor.  ( “And we know that  all things work together  for good  to those who love God,  to those who are the called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28).  For some of the longer posts, it took me the full week, from morning until late at night, every day, even doing 'All-Nighters', a few times, to meet what became my self-imposed deadline to post every week on Wednesdays. (I met that goal, too, except I accidentally deleted the July 3rd post, and I had to re-post it, on the 4th, of July.) I am a disciplined person, especially about things that are important, to me. After seeing what it takes, to do this, I doubt that most people could have, or would have,  taken this much time, and made the extreme effort, that I have, to cover this much ground in the same amount of time about this many things, and held to this schedule to publish weekly. Most of the blogs I have seen online are either intermittent, or monthly, and most of those posts are much shorter in length than many of mine. They also usually have double-spaced lines, are often more filled with photos, and even ads, than the text, and are not always the type of topics that I have dug down deep to discuss here in my Blog. Theirs might look professional, but MINE has HEART!

Those are not single-spaced, and worked into blocks, of paragraphs, either, like my Blog is for the most part. I have wondered myself why I have done mine is such a different looking format, from all the other blogs that I have seen online. I think it comes from several factors:  I had NO idea HOW to blog, when I first started this, and I actually had not paid alot of attention, to how other people were doing theirs, as I began mine, because mine was mine!--- an expression of who and what I am, as a person--- and represents me. The format became my signature style, for this. Although I even wondered, about this, some, myself, I came to think that the eccentric if not neurotic (with either term actually describing me) appearance, of my Blog, had to do with newspapers, printing articles into columns, and making the words fit that defined and confined space to keep it orderly and neat. I like things to be orderly and neat! Another similarity, to that source of print inspiration, for me, is that this Blog is fact not fiction. EVERYTHING in this Blog is TRUE, and if someone asserts that it is not, because of whatever motive that they may have (such as being mentioned, in it, in an unfavorable light, because they became part of MY story, and THAT is what I am telling, here) it says nothing about me, but it would show that they have something to hide and/or they don't want the truth to be believed for whatever personal reason.

Whether now or in Eternity, when we, each, stand before God, the truth WILL come out, so we may as well get used to that, now. It is what it is. I cannot say, for sure, but I think that perhaps another factor, involved in the appearance of my Blog, has been that, as I delved into all these things, about my life, which I often had little or no control over as they happened, my squaring these paragraphs symbolized my simultaneous struggle to square them, with me, emotionally, precisely because I could not control the actual events as they unfolded and affected me in my life, as they all did. This very precise neatness, of appearance, about it, was a diversion, to my having to describe so many events which I often had no real control over, distracting me, from the pain involved in alot of it which I had to relive to write about, by giving me the challenge of choosing the words, to tell my story here, that I could still square off, in my format. We have to feel that some things in life remain in our control, or we would lose our minds, from feeling out of control, altogether, and the intense vulnerability, from that. While I typed, and squared each paragraph, along the way, I was also squaring myself with the reality, of those memories, and whatever emotions I felt because of them, as I was coming to terms with these things in ways that helped me, greatly, but were also very hard for me to deal with. There is a reason there is that expression "the HARD truth", and why so many would rather live a lie, than face the truth.

While working on this Blog, and going back in time, in my memories, and emotions, to when I was different ages, and at different stages, in my life, I saw some things which I had not seen before, about some of the people and events. Some, of those revelations, I shared here, and some of them I didn't, often because the particular post involved was already so lengthy and I didn't think that the new insights would make alot of difference now. So, I have learned alot in my blogging, about myself and others and my relationships with others as I typed for hours of almost every day, while plowing through this backlog of partially-unprocessed emotions, from my memories. I can see why one of my VA counselors recommended that I WRITE about my life experiences, because this HAS been VERY helpful for me to do. This has also been very difficult for me to do. It takes courage, and vulnerability, to face, and describe, all these things from my life. It takes alot of time and effort too. The one thing which has taken up most of my waking hours, day in and day out, for 7 full months now has been this blogging. Life has to be about balance, or it doesn't work well. I have been sleep-deprived; renewed subscriptions for magazines, and ordered interesting books, none of which I have had time to read. I didn't go on walks outdoors on beautiful days, to finish posts, and lived much more like a hermit while I have been sitting here doing this. What I 'got out of my system' here made that huge sacrifice of time worth it, but there are only so many hours in a day, and I am already 63(1/2) years old now, so every moment, of every day, feels even more precious, to me, now, than when I was young and, like all young people seem to, believed that I would have all the time in the world, to do all that I wanted to do, in this life. I can already see that I can never cook all the recipes, see all the places, get involved in all the activities, or learn all the new things, that interest me, and that I want to participate in, in this one lifetime on Earth! It just goes by too fast for all that.

I need to use my time as wisely as possible, and with everything that this Blog has helped me to process, this HAS been a GOOD USE of this time. However, everything has good and bad, to it, and my blogging has also thrown my life out of balance, in a way that is now affecting my health in certain ways. Besides the sleep deprivation, I haven't eaten as well as I usually try to do, when I take the time to cook fresh foods, from scratch, with no preservatives in it. I almost do not exercise at all, anymore, because I am sitting here typing, whereas I exercised EVERY DAY before I began blogging. Alot of my muscle tone is gone now in parts where I was always fit, and strong, before. I have also developed almost constant pain, in my right hand, and I am right handed,  so this is a real, ongoing, problem, for me, since I live all alone, and have to do everything, that gets done here, myself, from brushing my teeth, and hair, to cooking, chores, and, well, EVERYTHING! (I cry about that, occasionally, because I feel overwhelmed, by that, at times.) The pain in my hand has progressed, from all the use of it as I type here, to being a pain that is now all the way up my entire right arm and into my right shoulder; and, the pain is bad enough to keep me awake at night. That is a sure sign that I NEED to take a break, from blogging, for awhile, which is what this post is telling you. It has harmed me physically to blog.

I don't want to stop blogging, altogether. There is still so MUCH left to cover, about my life. We were almost to the part about me becoming a dancer, in the nightclubs, which is an interesting chapter, and I very much want to tell you about my cockatiel, CeeBee, who God sent me, by a real miracle, and he saved my life, then lived with me for the most wonderful 2 decades, of my life (which was largely because of HIM!). I still have to cover ALOT MORE, including the last 2, of my 4, husbands, both of which are mentioned in the post dated 3/6/19 titled "Two Memories I Have From My Marriages". I also worked awhile as a live-in nanny, and have lived in several places, although God ultimately always brought me back to Omaha, for some reason, which I am STILL NOT SURE ABOUT. I have already included some of my earlier writings from when I was younger, when those were appropriate for the Blog post, they were added to, but my later writings improved (LOL) alot, from those, I think, and I will be using those in future Blog posts. There are even more subjects, than these, remaining, for me to cover, in this Blog, but for the last month, now, at the very least, I have felt, very much, like I really NEED to TAKE A BREAK from doing this, for awhile, to try to heal and to get a healthier BALANCE back in my life again. The holidays are rapidly approaching. Only 14 weeks, from TODAY, is New Year's Day, 2020! I have holiday shopping to do, VA appointments to go to, and alot of other things to take care of, without feeling that I am neglecting my current weeks' post, as I go, and get those things done.

One day, I clicked on all the various things on my Blogger website, to see what they were and did, and that's when I saw the Stats page. After that I began to peek at it sometimes, and was truly SHOCKED when I saw that I had real-life READERS of my Blog now! I was confused by that, too, because whenever I did GOOGLE searches myself, to see if I could also pull up my Blog online, I couldn't even FIND it without using the direct link to it in the Search. So, HOW, I have always wondered, did ANY of YOU readers EVER even FIND MY BLOG to BEGIN with, to READ IT?!? Because I was VERY curious, about that, I added a way for you to EMAIL ME, through my Blog Profile page. Then because the whole world uses social media sites I added accounts for those as well, although I don't like using those because to me they feel like 'junk food' to my SOUL, and leave me feeling anxious after I am on them instead of happy, so I am never sure if I will keep those or not. I was previously on social media sites, until I deleted ALL those accounts in 2011. I felt ALOT happier, after those were out of my life, even though I lost touch with some of my friends, then (since everybody does everything online, now, it seems!). YOU, the readers of my Blog, are very special to me, because you are real people, living real lives, like I am, who stop by my Blog and spend time with me telling you about what life is like for me. I wonder quite often what life is like for you, as well. The Stats page shows the country the readers are from and what OS and Browser was used to read the Blog but it doesn't show who you are or anything personal about you. Some of you have become regular readers of my Blog, and I thank you, for coming alongside me, here, and sharing my life story, by inviting me, through my Blog, into your life story! You readers are not just here in the United States. You're in Germany, Portugal, Canada, the Netherlands, Belgium, Ukraine, the United Kingdom, Peru, Brazil, Japan,  France, Sweden,  and Poland. I also have been curious whether you all speak English, or whether you use some translator program, to read this. I am still amazed that ANY of you were able to FIND this Blog online, at all, without any SEO, or labels, done to help that!

When I started the Blog, even though it is online I never thought about anyone else being able to find it and read it, among the many billions of things which are on the world wide web. I told my son, Jay, about it, just before I began it, and after he visited the site once and groused that he 'didn't want to read about himself like he was in a book', I told him (since it isn't REQUIRED reading, anyway, LOL) that, if he didn't like it, THEN (my 4/3/19 post about birthing him, called "If You Love Someone, Set Them Free . . . "), that HE definitely would NOT like what else was coming, in this Blog, and that therefore HE shouldn't READ it! It appeared that he DID revisit it one other time, after that, because my Stats page showed a Blog viewer in the country that he lives in, now, about 3 months after that, but I have not seen that Stat, again, since then. I think that was just before I started writing the series of posts about his father, Jim, so I don't believe that he has seen any of those. Everything that I said about him was ALL true, though, and I'm not about to LIE, to make ANYONE, even MYSELF, feel better, about all this CRAP, in my life! There is always a price to be paid, by someone, whenever a lie is told. So, as I worked on my Blog, week in and week out, I was really just writing it for myself, although it is handy that it is included now, by its web address, in my VA medical records, because it deals with things that affect my (mental, emotional, and physical) health and my counselors are at the VA, including one of the staff pastors. At this point, my Blog has never been search engine optimized, at all, or had labels or tags attached, to the posts, to make them easier to find in an online search. I will be doing that soon, though, as I should be able to find some time for that, now that I won't be writing posts, for awhile (so, hopefully, what has become chronic pain, for me, can heal!). I decided to do those because of you, my readers, which are apparently all around the world! I was simply blogging, about my life, so I could process all the things that I have been through, since the internalized effects, of all that, had been negatively affecting my health. Because of my blogging I've gotten so much 'out of my system' that I had been carrying inside for so long.

For at least the last month I have known, for sure, that I really need to take a break from doing this, for awhile, though. I don't want to spend the Holiday season reliving what is, so often, for me, painful memories, as that time of year already seems to heighten nostalgia, and angst, in us humans, as it is. My arm is going to need a while, to heal, also. So, I am planning, to begin blogging again, God Willing, just after New Year's. By then the Holidays will be over; hopefully the pain in my hand, arm, and shoulder that developed from my blogging so much, for so long, will be healed; and I will have read some magazines, and books, sang some songs, gotten the muscle tone back, in my body, and will be feeling more up to the task, of dealing with all these things that I am writing about, here. I get 'cabin fever', in the winter months, too, so having the distraction of blogging, again, then, can help get me through those cold, snowy, icy months, of January, February, March, and usually April (sometimes even May!). I have gotten in the habit of sitting down here every day, and blogging, now, so I am sure that I will miss doing this, alot, during the next couple of months, that I am taking a break, from it, but I KNOW that I NEED to do this; to take a rest from it, for awhile, now. Hopefully, I will see you, here, again, in the New Year! In the meantime, if you are willing to answer my questions about how you even FOUND this Blog online, and how you are reading/translating it, into your language, if you are, I would appreciate that information. Also, if you simply want to send me an email, for any reason, you can do that any time, through the "Email me" link on my Blog's Profile page. You can find that by going to the main page of my Blog, then, on the right hand side, just before "Blog Archive", click on where it says "View my complete profile".  On that page, on the left hand side, under my photo, click on "Contact me Email". I usually check my email every day unless the WiFi is down again, here. >sigh!< The landlord provides us tenants with FREE WiFi, but it is so often UNUSABLE, due to the drain, on it, of all the tenants sharing it at once, and sometimes it has technical glitches, with the equipment that provides it, to us, as well. So, just know that IF you do message me, I will respond to you when I see it there. You MATTER! You are important to God and to me! I wish you all the most BLESSED of Holidays and I am planning, God Willing, to see you, back here, on this very personal journey, through my life, just after the New Year!

Love, Deborah

P.S. If there are any changes, or an update, to what I have told you, here in this post, I will let you know, underneath this post, where it says "Post a Comment". By the way, when I started this Blog, and was just writing for myself, here, I didn't have it enabled, for ANY Comments. I ADDED THAT FEATURE, to it, when I realized that each of YOU were here, reading this, so that YOU could contact me that way, as well, by posting a Comment after the post, with your thoughts, or questions, about what you read, or, about me . . . . So, feel free, to contact me!

The Pros And Cons Of Taking Advice From Others, Who Won't Bear The Results Of It

We all likely both get and give advice. Some of that--- hopefully!--- may be helpful, to us and to others, but it can also be harmful, including from unintended consequences resulting from that. Some things that come to mind about that, for me, are: doctors told their patients, who trusted them, and the medical soundness of this well-meaning advice, about their health care, to eat a low fat diet. The unintended consequence, resulting from that advice, it seems, is that studies are showing there is an alarming increase in the number of people developing Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia. It turns out that this leaner diet was starving the brain of fat, which is the main, though not the only, nutrient that it needs to function optimally. [For more information on this, reference this link: https://www.drperlmutter.com/eating-fat-fighting-alzheimers ] There are many such things as this strewn along the timeline of people seeking advice for their health and well being, including the ongoing debates about whether wine, coffee, and even unfiltered water, are helpful or harmful to our health. When I was having back trouble from lifting patients while I worked in the nursing field, years ago, the hospital, where I worked, gave me recurrent, and ineffective, physical therapy treatments along with strong pills which had undesirable side effects. They never (would have) suggested chiropractic, since the medical profession deemed that treatment to be both non medical and non curative, at the time. When a friend from church told me how much his chiropractor had helped him, with his back issues, though, and he even offered to take me to them, I was willing to try it to hopefully get some real relief from what had become chronic pain for me, by that point. In ONE chiropractic adjustment, which lasted all of five minutes, after the patient history, and initial x-rays, were taken, MY pain was ALL GONE! [Another, odd-seeming, ongoing, cure, that kept me free of further back pain, was my leaving that field of employment, with all the constant patient lifting, and my (medical) white uniforms (back then), with my stethoscope around my neck, for dancing on stage, in a sequined thong bikini, with a feather boa around my neck, in go go bars! All the body waves (body rolls) I did, as well as the other constant exercise from, and stretching during, my dance routines, helped my back, by strengthening my core, preventing any further back issues, for me! Those results were even with me working in high heels which are known for throwing the spine out of whack.]

A couple of summers ago, I started doing some indoor vegetable gardening, in my apartment, and made use of the so-called Master Gardeners at the County Extension office, calling them for advice with this new endeavor. They mostly seemed to just Google whatever I asked them about, and throughout the course of my calling there for their help, at various times during this experiment of mine, their advice often contradicted one another which became very frustrating and disheartening for me! During one phone call, the 'Master' Gardener, available on that day, would tell me there was NO WAY these veggies could grow inside without being pollinated by the outdoor insects (which I certainly wasn't about to invite in!). Others assured me they could. Some told me to take the plants outside, for sun, each day. Others of them told me that would put the plants into shock, because it wasn't their constant habitat. Some told me that my taking a Q-tip and doing the pollinating between the flowers on my vegetable plants myself would not work (although green peppers DID start to grow, doing this), and on and on. It got to the point, calling there for their 'Master' Gardener advice, that I dreaded asking them anything, anymore. I was buried under so much (contradictory, conflicting) advice---  ALL by 'MASTER' gardeners, supposedly, that I started to not even enjoy doing this project, then, regardless of the outcome. I eventually just lost my initial enthusiasm for it, from all this irreconcilable advice, and dreaded needing any more advice, from anyone, about it, anymore! The challenge had simply become too overwhelming, and the fun almost nonexistent, for me, because of all this advice, from all these people, about what I was doing (or, trying to do), growing vegetables on my windowsill.

I have enjoyed watching the new summer TV show, SONGLAND, about aspiring songwriters bringing their creations to be considered for recording by already well-known entertainers. It fascinates me, since I do creative writing myself, including some lyrics, to watch these various producers each come alongside one of these hopefuls and tweak their tune, in order to have it be the selected song. They give lots of advice, along the way, with this help. The thing is, they also have a  personal stake in the outcome, since they become part of this collaborative team with these songwriters, sharing all of their ideas together, in order to be the winning team that gets chosen for what can turn into instant success, if the recorded song goes to the top of the charts. So these producers, although already being highly successful in the field, aren't simply dishing out advice, to these aspiring songwriters. What they say affects outcomes in their own lives, as well, as they receive even more prestige, at the very least, if the song that they come alongside its writer to work on is picked, for the honor of being recorded, by the guest artist or group on that week's show. Simon Cowell gives the acts advice, on AGT, as well, to help them do even better on that show, but AGT also benefits from these people who become stars while appearing on this talent show. So, again, the recipient of the advice, the act in this competition, isn't the only one living with the consequences of that advice. To me, the safest advice to ever take is from someone who also 'has some skin in the game', so to speak, who will either reap the rewards, or suffer the consequences, of the advice that is being given by them, that, once incorporated into the situation can often affect the outcome in some way or other, good or bad.

The advice we are given by others, that we internalize and act on, can influence us profoundly, and impact us greatly, for better or for worse, in life changing ways. My son, Jay, told me about his being given some advice, during college, about measuring each of his responses to others, almost literally word by word, in order not to give any more input into the conversation than the other person was (thereby always giving them control of the narrative) in an attempt to be liked and accepted by them. He said that was some of the very best advice that he ever received in his life! My thinking is, if he had to alter who he was, to this extreme, to be accepted by others, then he wasn't truly being accepted by others as himself. But, who am I, being merely his own birth mother, to contradict what this trained counselor told him during their session together? I do not agree with their advice to my son, just based on the results. When he was younger, he was effervescently verbal, saying what was on his mind, and in his heart. His openness made me feel more open toward him, and we shared some good conversations, as he was growing up. I liked and admired him for his having a beautifully honest and loving heart, which he was bravely offering everyone, much like how Jesus loves everybody! His great and generous gift could only have made this planet a better place, for his being him. This world can't appreciate such tender treasures, though. The pain of its rejection understandably caused him to become demoralized and discouraged because someone so loving needs and deserves to be loved in return. Again, Jesus felt all these things, when He came to save this world and it rejected Him!

My son was following after the Lord, then, and that is a difficult, and often lonely, journey. The world cannot love what are God's gifts, to it, though. Jesus. Jay. Anyone loving, and living for, the Lord. While growing up, my son was 'out of the box', just being himself, and by no means someone only giving 'measured responses' meant to gain the world's acceptance or approval. Now that he tries to alter who he truly is, at heart, he looks on how he was, before, negatively, saying that he was wrongly 'wearing his heart on his sleeve' back then, and that, based on the results of his doing that (as he perceived those, from the perspective of his not getting what he wanted from people, in relationships), he is an 'improved' version of himself, now. However, he sounded alot happier before he took the advice, to become a 'measured' person, even with all of life's inevitable disappointments dotting the landscape of his youthful yearnings, then, which had to happen, because we live in a broken place that does its best to break us. He was much more open, and enthusiastic about his life, before he stuffed who he truly is at heart into a box, ironically, in order for him to be more accepted for WHO HE IS! He was such an impressive kid growing up, and I found him totally charming; even inspiring! Back then, he was just being who he was which IS the ONE AND ONLY person that each of us is CREATED and CALLED to BE! There's a quote, of e. e. cummings, which says "The hardest challenge is to be yourself in a world where everyone is trying to make you be somebody else." Through advice, usually.

He has goals with his songwriting, and he still dreams of a future with that, while he makes the best of what he has found, for expressing himself musically. I hope and pray that his dreams--- the desires of his heart--- do happen, for him. But I wonder, with some real concern, HOW he can write meaningful songs, with lyrics which really resonate with people, when he has stuffed his very communication skills into a 'measured' box, in order to be more accepted by people--- not for WHO HE IS, but for who he now only 'acts like' he is, to please people. He wrote ONE song that I FELT real, raw, emotion in, about what it was like to be a kid put on the drug Ritalin to be better 'controlled' (doped down), but he was then concerned that 'people didn't like it that he had said that', and 'weren't happy about' his gut-wrenchingly TRUE EMOTIONS expressed in those lyrics. There is another quote, that is unattributable to any specific originator: "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter". To me, I have no idea how he will ever be able to break through, in the music industry, with some chart-topping song(s), his dream that he has pursued and worked on his entire life, if he has taken advice to box himself in, shut himself down, and put pleasing other people ahead of being true to himself and being the ONE person that God created and Called him to be! I can't see that being able to happen, like that. How can he make someone feel goosebumps, or cry, or sing along, out of pure joy, from relating to what he is saying, in his songs, when he isn't even allowing himself to be free to BE HIMSELF and just EXPRESS HIMSELF? It is heartbreaking to me, but what do I know?

Well-meaning friends, who couldn't feel what my heart was feeling about it, advised me to stick with a very prestigious corporate job, despite my being totally miserable there, to the point that I became quite despondent, facing that as my future, and even being my present. I believe that is not the way to live our lives. When I was working as a nightclub dancer, pastors advised me to quit doing that, saying to me that I couldn't even be a 'real' Christian if I were working in that profession. God's Grace went with me, into those places, where these pastors would've never gone (so as to avoid their whitewashed 'holier-than-thou' getting tainted by the dirtiness of sin; forgetting, apparently, that Christians ARE ONLY SINNERS, SAVED BY GRACE; INCLUDING themselves!). All I know is that, God as my Witness, I had the Holy Spirit tell me, WHILE I was dancing ON stage, IN my thong bikini, one day, to go talk to a club customer, I had never seen before, which I didn't want to do (for reasons I will go into when I do the post(s) on my working as a dancer in the nightclubs) but I OBEYED HIM, ONLY BECAUSE OF MY LOVE FOR THE LORD, and it turned out that this man had planned to commit suicide, later that night, but I led him to the Cross instead, and God saved his life in every way, that night. I also prayed for, and with, several other dancers, in those clubs, who had been made to feel that they were nothing but 'worthless pieces of shit'. I KNOW because THEY TOLD ME this! Perhaps, even probably, no one else would have been in there to do that, with these hurting people that God loves with all He is, if I hadn't been there. I was glad I was there! Christians don't often go anywhere near such places, but THOSE SOULS, in those clubs, are JUST AS precious to God as ANY sitting, all scrubbed clean, by the blood of Jesus, in the pews of their churches, on Sunday mornings.

I have NEVER been sorry for NOT FOLLOWING the advice of others, whenever that did NOT resonate with my heart! NOT ONE TIME! Someone I barely knew advised me to marry a man, saying that he was the nicest guy they knew! If he was, I wondered to myself, later, then WHY didn't SHE want him? But it was too late. I followed her advice, and found myself married to a real life SON OF SATAN who ABUSED me, body, soul, and spirit in almost every way you can imagine! [Reference my Blog post "Two Memories I Have From My Marriages" from 3/6/19 for some on that FINAL marriage of mine] It took me FIVE YEARS to RECOVER from that trauma after the divorce, and broke me, so completely, when I went through that, that I chose to never marry, again, after that, staying single ever since then, although I was only in my thirties at the time. When God told me, in my spirit as I prayed about it, not to marry that same man, I should have taken HIS advice, not this girl's, because NO ONE has OUR BEST INTERESTS at heart like our loving Father God! If you learn to even see His "No" as being loving and for your good, you will have a much better life! He knows EVERYTHING, and LOVES US COMPLETELY, so His advice is what you should always go with. He wants to protect us not deprive or destroy us.

I believe that we must be true to ourselves, by being who we are created to be. But, more than that, I firmly believe that we can't be true to ourselves if we are not being true to God, and who it is that HE CREATED AND CALLED US TO BE. If we are not going to be OURSELVES, even in all of our pain, and our imperfectness, then WHO is going to BE that unique creation of God, in this world? We are each a thought, an idea, which God, Himself, decided that HE WANTED, on this planet, for His purposes. So, if we don't fulfill that, because we are sidetracked by some well-meaning advice, that can hurt more than it helps, at times, God's unique creation--- us!--- will never really be, because of our Free Will to disobey God. The main advice that I was worse off for NOT taking was GOD'S advice. Whether it's through His Word, or His Spirit, or whatever way that He has conveyed that to me, I suffered needless pain and grief every time I did not do what the Lord advised me to do. People's advice often told me to go do something that I hated, remain in a place where I was miserable, and be something that I was not, to obtain perceived prestige, or profit, or purpose, that had nothing to do with God's Will for me, or who I really am. Who I am Called to be! If I had always followed God's advice, I would have been alot better off, in my life! Having learned that, the hard way, many times, I really try diligently to hear and obey Him, now. Following peoples' advice, about  ANYTHING to do with my life, NEVER brought me fulfillment, or happiness, or joy, when it was contrary to God's Will, or against the truth of who I am. Sometimes people even give us advice that is based on their own agenda, which does not come from a pure motive then. Yet we are the ones that have to live with the consequences of following that advice and, usually, not them. An example of this would be a young man, talking a young woman into having unprotected sex, with him. Bad and self-seeking advice. Now, she is pregnant, with horrible decisions confronting her, or has an STD, or both perhaps. Someone tells you that you should go somewhere, or do something, that just does not feel right, for you, and you let them convince you to do it. I have not seen anything good come from such advice, that goes against my gut feeling, but I followed it, anyway. Advice is not ever a one-size-fits-all thing. Advice that worked great, for one person, might be a disaster for the next person! Being true to you, while always being true to God, is the best way that I have found to live life. There is that often quoted saying "Advice is cheap". So many times, in so many ways, that is so true!

Then there's the uninvited, and unwelcome, advice, especially when it's concerning something very personal or near and dear to your heart which has nothing whatsoever to do with the one giving you that advice. After I had gotten settled, into my new apartment, many years ago, the resident manager stopped by for some reason. After about a minute, and his briefly assessing my belongings, he criticized the way in which I had chosen to arrange my own artwork, on my own walls, saying that I hadn't grouped the themes properly, according to him. I bristled at this because I had collected those pieces through the years, from several art festivals, quite a few of which were original paintings, and now, I had just hung them, in this new home of mine, the way that brought me the greatest pleasure. My assessment of HIM, then, was that he was out of line. Not long, after this, he began calling me up, in the middle of the night, quite drunk, and obnoxious! Even when I REPEATEDLY hung up on him after telling him NOT to call me again, he would just call right back, causing me to leave the phone off the hook, finally, so that I could get back to sleep. (There were only landline phones back then.) Worse, he only had my phone number, in the first place, because it was required on my Lease Application, when I rented the apartment. I had not given it to him for any social connection, between us (which did not exist, anyway), nor would I have, because, to me, he was just a jerk whom I HAD to deal with as my apartment manager. That was one of my most favorite apartments, but he was one of my least favorite people. Because of his job position there, he also had master keys to every one of the tenants' apartments, so I was lucky that all he ended up doing to me was those drunken phone calls at 3 AM. I say this because HE ended up being on the local Breaking News, one evening, after he was arrested from his hiding in the back seat of a woman's car, whom he did not know, and holding her at knife point, trying to sexually assault her! Either drunk or sober, this asshole could have used his master keys, at any time, to enter my apartment, and possibly assault me, or worse! While I didn't know HOW bad of a human being this guy really was, his unprompted advice about my wall paintings, when I first moved in, had been enough for my instincts to tell me that he did not play by, or obey, the standard social rules of engagement, in his dealing so inappropriately with me, even in that seemingly small way. That had been enough, to sour me on interacting with him. My avoiding him after that may have prevented him from choosing me as his next sexual assault victim, since it turned out that this woman, on that news story, was one of several he had done this type of thing to! So not only did I not like, or follow, his advice about how I chose to decorate my home--- which is a very personal, even sacred, expression of oneself, in the most private of places--- it was enough for me to resent and dislike him as a person. If I had even just seemed to approve of, or follow, his advice, I think that it would have encouraged this man to then try to engage me in an even more personal, and dangerous, way, that I could not have foreseen! Let that be a cautionary tale, about trusting your own gut, even, and especially, in the face of someone else's advice, given about your own personal business.

I wrote a poem for a co-worker when I was working as a dancer in one of the nightclubs, that I found among my old writings. Because I felt that it matched the theme, of this Blog post,  I am including it here. Apparently, based on the words, of my poem, Robin, who was the DJ, for this club, was wondering if he should follow someone else's advice, to change himself, some way. I DO need to point out the irony, here, that I was giving him advice, in these words, of my poem, about NOT following the advice, of others, but following his own heart, for his own life, instead!

                                                             The Heart Of A DJ

Written April 16, 1997, for Robin, by Stevie (my dancer alias; used for personal safety reasons)

Don't cut your hair, Robin!
Just cut yourself loose---
Be who you are, inside,
And make no excuse.

Don't "fit the mold" for them---
Their System's not worth it.
They barely will pay you
To shovel their bullshit!

That "Success is a ladder
You climb, 9 to 5,
In a suit, shirt, and tie"
Is a big, stupid lie.

If your heart is a DJ's
Give that all that's inside!
Don't measure your worth
By opinion, or pride.

I love what you do,
And you do it quite well!
Let your heart guide you, Robin,
For it always will tell

You where you are now,
And where you should go,
So be true to yourself,
For your heart always knows.

Never let it be silenced---
The music you play---
'til your own heart will tell you
That it's had its day.

You'll regret other reasons
To put it to rest,
And in anything else
You won't feel your best.

It's good to please others,
But not at your expense;
To sell your own soul
Doesn't make any sense!

'Cause then you have nothing,
And neither will they;
So just be what you feel,
And let your music play!

My Caring For Others, & Killing Someone

My ex-husband, my son's father, paid for me to take a course, which would help me to make a living, for myself, since I was a homemaker and a mother, prior to our divorce. The course was taught at the local community college. The RN who was my instructor wrote  "Strives to do her best" on my student evaluation, and "Final Grade   96%   A".  So, I became a Certified Nursing Assistant which, like my being a mother had been, was also a caregiver, immediately following my transferring custody of my baby boy, to his father and step-mother, in order for him to have his best chance in life. [Reference my post "My Son's Other Mother Was Heaven-Sent", dated 8/28/19] Despite my very best efforts, to care for my son, 24/7, as a struggling single mother, I simply couldn't meet all his needs as well as they would be met in this two-parent home which included more stability and income. As heartbreaking as that decision, and the relinquishment, was for me, I simply had to do what was best for my child. It also says alot about me that, right in the middle of the process of transferring the custody of my precious toddler, Jay, to Jim and Linnea, I graduated from the CNA program; and as the class Honor Graduate, with a 4.0 GPA.

I think that speaks to my always trying to do the very best that I can, in a situation, even though the outcomes, many of which are out of my control, can often make it seem as though I am not doing that, in some way or other. I still have my student assessment from the instructor and my job references from nurses I worked with in the hospital, which reflect my striving to do my best and, to provide the best quality care, for the patients, that I could. I had also given my baby the best quality care I could, as well, but it didn't help me to be able to keep him, with me, since he needed much more than that. Both through, and because of, such situations as this was, in my life, I have come to feel that, no matter how hard I have tried, my best is just not good enough, somehow, for me to end up with happier endings to the chapters of my life. Because trying my best, and doing my best, are very important to me, it's been both frustrating and disheartening that I have not ended up with more to show for all of my effort, in my own life. At a time when I personally could not have been more burned out and brokenhearted, I had to step into the role of giving excellent, direct, hands on patient care. By God's Grace, and my self-discipline, I was able to do that, and well. Underneath, though, my own needs were still there like a thorn in my side (Reference 2 Corinthians 12:7-9), throbbing, but silenced by others' indifference, to them.

To add insult to injury, when I did reach out, to others, for help with my heartbreak, they did not understand where I was coming from, at all, with all this pain and loneliness inside me. When I confided, to two of the nurses that I worked with, my very recent, and raw, custody decision for my son, Jay, they seemed sympathetic, to my face. Not long after, though, I was in a bathroom stall, in the ladies room, on our hospital floor, when the two of them came in, together, and, not knowing that I was in there, they began to discuss what I had told them, concluding that I could not possibly have really loved my son to have done that with him and that the only reason they could think of, for my doing that, was for me to simply want to 'free myself up', to be some kind of party goer (which I didn't do, and actually have never even been comfortable doing because that just seems so superficial, to me). That told me what they really thought . . . of me. I wasn't partying, by any means! I was making a little above minimum wage, and, was barely surviving, financially, or emotionally. I was living in an old, low rent, apartment, that I walked to work from because I had to let my car go back to the dealership after I could not keep up with making the payments, because I was barely even eating, as it was, due to a lack of money. I lay awake, at night, listening to mice, scurrying around my apartment, and chewing on my belongings. Even eating my loaf of bread, that I needed, myself, to survive. The maintenance man set traps, but then I lay in the dark hearing them SNAP, and then, often, the mouse screaming in pain before it finally died, while I lay there as horrified for it as I was for me. Once, a mother mouse died in the trap, and when it did not return to its nest of helpless babies, which were living underneath my kitchen sink apparently, the panicked babies all began to cry out for their mother. Just what I didn't need; their real heartbreak added to my own, which it already felt like I was drowning in.

I went to see the pastor, of the church I attended at the time, for one counseling session, about all this that I was going through. I described my unmet needs, my loneliness, and the challenge of my pouring myself out, for others, day in and day out, all while feeling that there was no one pouring anything helpful or healing into me on a personal level, causing me to feel dangerously depleted, in my spirit. His only response to all of this, during our one time, one hour, scheduled session, together, was to keep looking at his watch, indicating to me that he would much rather be doing something else, than discussing my heartache, and then, he summed up our session, by simply saying to me "I don't know how God stands any of us!" implying that I was just being selfish, for wanting, even needing, my very human needs to be met. People had come through my life, with their needs, and then trashed it, while getting their own needs met by me, often at my expense. When was it my turn? My needs were just as real, and as valid, as anyone else's, though it certainly hadn't seemed that they were treated that way by others, very often. Feeling further wounded, by his characterization, of my intense pain, and longing, I felt as though I was suffocating from lack of love, during the next couple of Sundays that I attended church, and sat listening to this man preach. I finally fled from there, during the service, and I never returned. I didn't feel that my soul was being fed, what it desperately needed, there, and I didn't feel loved there, either, except for my friendship with Vivian Gulleen, whom I had met there, and I went to a play, and on other social outings, with. [Reference my 8/21/19 post, "A Lesson To A Younger Woman, From An Older Woman . . . ."]  I had felt like I was just being told to shut up and 'stuff it', by that pastor, which was how my parents had treated me, my whole life, in their attempt to control me by robbing me, of my voice, to speak out about what was going on, and how I felt it.

Since I was so squeamish, about all medical procedures, it was an odd career choice for me to become a CNA, working first in nursing homes and then in a hospital. However, my being such a devoted nurturer, to others, made me an excellent nurse's aide. The nursing staff all had high praise for my work with the patients, but for me the most important thing of all was the fact that the patients themselves frequently told me that I was their favorite nurse! I was able to make a positive difference in the lives of so many people, in that job, and I loved doing that! I was in an interesting career field, which was ever challenging, and ever changing, also. As I took his vital signs, the older Jewish gentleman would teach me Yiddish, calling me a shayne maydl. When I was making the bed with clean linen, in a middle-aged woman's room, I listened to some of the audio tape, that she was playing, on 'Jesus Counseling', which explained how to go to a place, spiritually, using your imagination, and have talks with Jesus there, so to speak, which took on an interactive energy, with Him, then. [Reference Romans 12:2, Ephesians 3:20, and Matthew 13:34]. It so fascinated me that she told me to take the cassette home, to listen to all of it, and bring it back, which I did. The concept it taught me helped me, then, and for the rest of my life!

Very rarely did any patient not want me to be directly caring for them. One, that did not, was a diabetic man, who was admitted to the hospital, to have both of his legs amputated. His nurse told me that he requested I not be assigned to him, because I was too cheerful for him, to deal with in his despair. Once a female patient was admitted who was seriously ill. The doctors and staff were trying to figure out what was wrong with her. I also had to chart on the patients that I cared for so, in her case, I ended up being the one that put them all quickly on the right trail for her diagnosis. I charted that she was very jaundiced which is an extremely important symptom. The nursing staff challenged me, about that, before the doctor saw it, saying that the lighting in the patient rooms caused skin to have a more yellow appearance. I responded that, while that was true, when I was standing beside her, at the mirror or by the window, and she appeared to be alot yellower than I was in the very same lighting, that she is very jaundiced. The nurse then went in to check, between her skin and the patient's, and came out saying, in a quite surprised way, that I was right about this, and that she had overlooked it earlier, because she assumed it was simply due to the lighting in the room. They let the doctor know that I was the one who had observed, and charted, it originally, greatly helping with the accurate diagnosis of her condition. I felt like I was doing important, meaningful work, as a Nursing Assistant, which also helped me adjust, to not having my son, with me, since I gave that conscientious care to my patients, now.

The Assistant Head Nurse, whom I had worked for at the hospital, wrote this reference for me:

                                                                                                        "June 11, 1985
                                                                                                         Omaha, Nebraska

To Whom It May Concern:

     Debbie Carlin was a nurse's aide under my direct supervision . . . . During this time I observed her giving direct patient care at Lutheran Medical Center. Debbie likes working with people. This is reflected by her caring attitude and the kindness with which she carries out her assigned duties. She is very conscientious and strives to meet the needs of those people she works with.
     Debbie is an excellent employee and would be an asset to any employer.

                                                                                                        Sincerely Yours,
                                                                                                        Martha Binkard
                                                                                                        Assistant Head Nurse"

There is both good and bad to everything, in life, however. At my first CNA job that I had, which was in a nursing home, a co-worker stole my paycheck, when I already could not keep up, with my rent, and could barely afford any groceries, after she had offered me a ride, somewhere, to seemingly be helpful to me! I got the check back, after alot of hassle, and stress, and lies, from her, about that, but the camaraderie evaporated for me there, from that incident, and others. At the second job that I had, as a Nursing Assistant, in another nursing home, I slipped, and fell--- hard!--- on a wet floor, which had simply appeared to be shiny clean, to me, because there was no CAUTION: WET FLOOR sign on it, at all, as a safety warning. I was lucky, that I did not get any permanent back damage, or other serious or lasting injuries, from that fall, but the chaplain for the nursing home, who was part of the managerial staff, but also a personal friend, of mine, was privy to a conversation between the Head Nurse and HR, in which they planned to run me off after, and because of, my fall, because they wanted to avoid a Workman's Comp claim, or a potential lawsuit, if my consequential injury from that proved to be a serious or a lingering one, although I never sought to do either one of those things. They had also put the required sign in that hallway, after I fell there, claiming that it was there, all along, when it wasn't, to try to cover their own negligence, which had caused my fall, and injury. I applied at the hospital as soon as the chaplain told me about their plan, to get rid of me, now, and was quickly hired there. I liked this third, and final, nursing job environment, the best of all, which also seemed to be the most honest and ethical, of them, as well, as far as the people that I was now working with, and for!

Still, cleaning colostomies, shampooing away peoples' head lice, and dealing directly with the patients who had tuberculosis, and other potentially contagious illnesses (this was before HIV came onto the scene), were not pleasant tasks for me to do, nor was helping the patients who were uncooperative, overly demanding, and irritable for no real reason. One of them even cost me my career in this field, by injuring my lower back due to her selfish and hysterical obstinacy in such a way that my back then began to continually be a problem for me, following that initial incident, until I was finally forced to leave this type job, altogether. This was a woman who was a chronic alcoholic, and was continually in and out of the hospital because of all the damage to her body, from that. She had ruined her liver, and her abdomen was very distended. I was told to take her for a procedure, downstairs, on one of her (many) re-admissions to the hospital. At the most vulnerable point (for my own body to be put at risk of injury) during the transfer of her from the bed to the wheelchair, as I was supporting much of her weight with my slender frame, without warning or reason, she suddenly lunged back toward the bed, in the opposite direction than I was in the midst of taking her. As she did that I had to bear all of her weight with my own body to keep her from hitting the floor with hers, and as I got her back onto the bed, then, I felt a tearing sensation, across my lower back, and was then barely able to stand, because of that.

After making sure that she was safely settled, back onto her bed, where she had begun taking herself (and me, with her) after suddenly screaming out that she did not want to go, during the transfer to the wheelchair, I limped toward the Nurses Station in alot of pain and let them know what had just happened. After several (unsuccessful) rounds of Physical Therapy, for this back injury, which she had caused, along with prescriptions for muscle relaxers and pain pills, which did not seem to help me, very much, and had undesirable side effects, I became despondent. I was dealing with several serious, and sad, things in my life, all at the same time, including now watching my career 'go down the toilet' because of this patient's behavior, who did not seem to care about herself, or her own health, and had badly damaged me, and mine, due to that. One evening, out of despair, I drank alcohol, along with taking some pills, and after reaching out, to my mother, by phone, in my intense physical, and emotional, pain, only for her to simply hang up on me, I managed to call an ambulance, to take me to the ER, which was in the very same hospital that I worked in. [Reference my 5/8/19 post "More Of My Memories Of My Mother" for more on this] My career, in nursing, where people had needed my nurturing, and I could make such a difference, with that, had been very therapeutic for me, especially as I was just learning how to live my life without my son, Jay, being with me. So, losing that career was a huge blow, adding to my distress, and discouragement, at the time, which I already had way too much of.

During this time in my life, while I was working at the second of the two nursing homes, I met a neighbor, at the apartment complex, where I lived. We never dated. We never even had a real relationship. Certainly not a romance. I was not even attracted to him, or impressed by him, in any way. I was just really lonely, and he was there, just to talk to some. One day he invited me over, to his apartment. It was the only time that I ever went over there. When I arrived, he just sat on the floor with his back against the furniture reading the newspaper. I was so grateful for any company, at all, to distract me, for a while, from my heartache, that I sat on the floor, near him, and watched him read the newspaper. It reminded me of how my mother had always held the newspaper up, like a barrier, to communication, between us, as I was growing up, shutting me out and causing me to feel that, whatever was in its pages, must be far more important, or interesting, than me, since that was the situation, in first that, and now this, attempt of mine at interaction with this other person. As I describe this interaction with this guy to you, now, it will likely sound as if I MUST be leaving out some details about all this, but I assure you that I am not. So, this IS as pathetic as it sounds. After I had simply sat there, in silence, for some time, watching him read the paper, just to have the crumbs of this human contact in my own life, he finally finished reading and sitting the paper down, he came over to me and began to undress me. I simply sat there and let him, because by then it was deeply drummed into my soul that I wasn't worth any more than this; by my parents, my husbands, my employers and co-workers, the pastor . . . . There seemed to be abundant evidence that I was not of any more value than this, to other people. There is also an extremely strong message sent to females, even from a young age, both subliminally and overtly, that we must bargain, with our sexual desirability, to have any hope at all of our ever having any of the love that we so need in our hearts and lives.

Here is one of my free verse poems, which reflects these things in my thinking, from my social conditioning, that was written during this period, of my life, on September 1, 1984, and is very revealing, as far as how I was feeling, and what I was struggling with, as a young woman then:

                                                             September Saturday

Evening.
               Late summer.
A warm wind whips the trees and teases my body,
            my hair, with its caresses.
                                                       Soon it will rain.
Dare I acknowledge--   tho I cannot acquiesce to--
these emotions within me?
                                      I long to lie naked
with my feet raised against a tree trunk,
letting the rain beat down upon my vulva and run into
                                                                    my vagina
and down      over my breasts.
                                                 I ache to be caressed,
explored,
               appreciated for my being a woman.
Such a lovely creature to be, in a man's grasp!
Ummmmm . . . I close my eyes & fantasize.

Curled up now instead among pillows on my bed,
                                                                               alone,
with the latest copy of Cosmo,
stroking my thighs as I read an erotic story and
feeling my nerve endings                   tingle!
How lovely to be a woman!
How lonely to be a woman,                alone,
on a stormy, sensuous, Saturday night.
How inexplicably, inescapably marvelous and torturous,
                                     simultaneously.

The rain begins, softly, in perfect harmony with
the romantic songs I have on the stereo.   Sin?
Don't tell me about it, tonight.
TONIGHT . . .
I'm sure the biggest sin           is      that I lie here alone
with no one to give my love to.
My cuddly, caressing, warm, wet, musky, moaning
love . . .

With all the social rules, regulations, restrictions--
                                           & incompatible
astrological signs--
                                 it's a miracle any two people
ever find each other & get past it, all, into the
  beauty of sharing . . . the love, the joy, the peace.

(I wonder if I have anyone out there? Somewhere?
 I long to sail away, on a wave of sensuality, but there's no one to
                                                                                     man my vessel,
 swim my     ocean,
                                     taste my salty spray on their lips.)

Only fantasy keeps this September Saturday night
from being a total waste of me as a woman.

I sail into a reverie on a wave of longing . . . .

                                       ----D.C. [Note: for Debby Carlin]     9/1/84

He had not conversed with me at all, while I was there, nor had he even tried to 'sweet talk', or romance, me. He had barely acknowledged that I was even there in the room with him, and he wasn't saying anything to me now, either, as he took my clothes off of me, while I just sat there, silently, and let him do that to me. I simply sat there like a statue, rather than a human being, a person with a will, of their own, while he undressed me. Then, once he had my pants off of me, he put his penis inside of me, still saying nothing at all to me, and for less time than a minute, I simply sat there and let him, because by then I believed that this was the best that I could ever have, of human interaction, or anything close to companionship, affection, or even love, since I WAS DAMAGED GOODS. I felt that, for this guy to also be treating me this way, now, he must have sensed that 'invisible sign', which I now felt was, apparently, permanently tattooed across my forehead, which people seemed to, somehow, know was there, and treated me accordingly, when they came into my life; which informed them that I was nothing but 'DAMAGED GOODS', that they could therefore treat casually and carelessly, due to that depreciation. I wasn't on any birth control, because I was not having sex, with anyone, and I was not trying to have sex, with anyone. I was trying--- hoping--- to be, and to feel, loved at some point, by someone. That was what I wanted, and needed, which is the deepest longing of the human heart; but what this guy (and I don't even recall his name, because we never really had any type of real relationship, at all, and I was only around him this one time) was doing was not 'lovemaking', by any means. It was sex. He was sitting on the floor and after taking my pants off had pulled me onto his penis, in an upright, straddling, position. As I realized what he was doing, to me, I still let it happen. I didn't try to stop it. I sat like a zombie, dying inside, all over again, for so many reasons, in that moment. Then, somehow, as if I woke from a bad dream (instead of the actual nightmare, that was really going on, at the time) I simply said to him, "I can't do this" and I stood up, put on my pants, and went back to my apartment. The entire thing was no more than one minute of time.

[Note: By this point in my life, I had already experienced my uncle Jim touching me with sexual intent, when I was an adolescent, and, rape, by a virtual stranger, and, several other, assorted, sexual assaults, and attempted sexual assaults, along with what I would certainly characterize as emotional abuse, by my parents, throughout my relationship with them, and in my marriage to my son's father, which had led to the break down of that relationship, and ultimately then my giving up custody of my son, all of which I was still suffering from, as I was struggling to adjust to what was left of my life, now, after all of this had happened to, and taken a huge toll on, me. Reference my posts on my parents, my first two marriages, and my Air Force career, for more on all these things that I went through. So much of that backgound, on me, dovetails into why this moment happened, in my life, that I am speaking of in this post, now. Additionally, this link is for an extremely enlightening, and informative, article, by Farahnaz Mohammed, titled "The Repetition Compulsion: Why Rape Victims Are More Likely To Be Assaulted Again", that really does an excellent job of explaining exactly why I felt, and therefore acted, like I did, now. I saw myself, very clearly, in what she was saying, here: https://www.girlsglobe.org/2015/08/04/the-repetition-compulsion-why-rape-victims-are-more-likely-to-be-assaulted-again/  Please read it!]

It wasn't surprising that I felt upset, and was emotional, with me going through so much. At the second nursing home where I worked then, I had fallen on the freshly mopped floor and gotten injured, in that fall. I was having to job hunt, again, because of my employer's position, toward me, after my injury made them legally liable, although I never threatened any action about that, and it healed up well, after some time. I was experiencing extreme poverty issues, since I was making close to minimum wage, which were causing me to be unable to fully cover my rent, at times, putting my residing in my apartment at risk. With so little money I hardly had anything to eat. I had to turn my car back into the dealership, because they told me that they were about to repossess it, from me, anyway, since I was already a couple of payments behind, on it, with no way to catch up. Last but not least, I was still trying to deal with missing my son, so badly, after transferring his custody, from me, to his father and step-mother, for his sake, which had felt like it nearly killed me, as a very loving mother, who had so conscientiously cared for her child. So, with all of that going on, in my life, which was more than enough to make my stomach feel like it was in a knot, it wasn't until the ER doctor, at the hospital that I had applied to, was doing my pelvic exam during the pre-hire physical, and said to me as he palpated my abdomen "Did you realize that you are pregnant?", that I even really confronted that possibility. It was hard for me to believe that was possible, from so little contact between me and that guy, the one time! All I can say is, apparently, I got pregnant very easily, both with my son, and this time; and, I was a woman that never wanted to ever be pregnant, in my life, for reasons that I've already covered in other Blog posts, here. In fact, after, and because of, this happening to me twice, now, I had my OB/GYN 'tie my tubes' (and to "burn or scar the ends of them, so they can't somehow heal back together!") by a Laparoscopic Tubal Ligation, which he did for me when I was still a much younger age than this was usually agreed to, by a woman's doctor, because he knew well that I remained a woman that had not ever wanted, or intended, to be pregnant in my life. I was 28 years old when I asked to be, and got, sterilized, on January 7, 1985. Even after that, I had an underlying fear, since I had gotten pregnant so extremely easily, both times that I had, that my body might heal itself, from the sterilization procedure, and I could still end up pregnant, again, then, which I had heard had happened to some patients, on occasion. Being concerned about protecting myself, from STDs, as well, I have gone through the rest of my life having very little sex, anyway, and the few times that I did outside of marriage, I also used condoms, for added protection. I have been very risk averse, to any, and all, complications which could come from my having sex, making me extremely (pun intended) 'gun shy'. I've lived celibate for decades.

I was absolutely flabbergasted, that the (one minute, or less) physical connection with that guy had gotten me pregnant! It did not seem that he had even had time to ejaculate, at all, before I had mustered the last little bit of self-respect, that I still had, and pulled myself away, from him, that day. He and I never were even around one another, except for that one time, nor had any type of real relationship, together. It was confusing, and horrifying, to me, and, became part of my employment physical for my brand new job, that I had to have, since the nursing home was trying to get rid of me after I was injured there from their negligence. It felt like the bridges were being burned, in my life, not just behind me, but ahead of me. I had to have this job, to survive! I was alone. My being able to make a living was all I had. I remembered from when I had been pregnant with my son that once the Morning Sickness kicked in, I was rendered literally unable to hold down a job because that was so severe for me. I came home from the job physical and called my mother. She gave me the 'You are shaming the family' speech, again, only this time, she also said that she was sending me money, for me to get an abortion, although I didn't ask for, or want, that from her. What I did need from her I never got, in my life, which had alot to do with how I ended up in these situations, to start with, due to extreme emotional deprivation, in me. [Reference my Blog posts on my mother, for a better understanding of (the effects of) this]

I called my close friend, Ada, and told her I was pregnant. I knew that she cared about me, and I trusted her. This time, however, she agreed with my mother, saying that my only option, in the dire situation that I was currently in, financially, physically, and emotionally was for me to get an abortion. I balked at that, even though I could see why she would say that, given my desperate situation. She advised me to exercise really hard, saying that she had heard some women had miscarried their babies, that way, so, since this was still extremely early on, in the pregnancy, I did that, but I didn't do it much, or long, because it made me so sad. In the meantime, my Start Date, for the new job, was approaching, and I knew that I could not hold down a job, when the Morning Sickness started, for me. Also, I had very little food to eat. My mother's check came in the mail, for the abortion, and I showed it to Ada, but I still didn't want to do that. However, Ada, seeming rational, in a world where everything was either upside down, or falling apart, for me, continued to calmly but urgently tell me that I had no other choice, at all, in my situation, but to get an abortion. So, she drove me to one of the abortion clinics, and went in, with me. I'd been told to bring a robe, and the check, from my mother, over the phone, when I had called, to ask about an abortion. As I sat there, answering the intake questions of the lady behind the desk, I suddenly got up and ran out, leaving my mother's check sitting there, and tossed my robe onto a fence, a ways down the street, as I fled, from there, so I could run faster. I heard Ada behind me, calling to me, but I didn't stop. Eventually, she got her car, and coming alongside me, after she finally caught up with me, she said "Debby, just get in the car!" Getting in, I said, "Ada, I'm NOT going BACK there! I CAN'T DO THIS! I don't KNOW what I am going to do but I can't DO this!" She said she would take me home, and that she had retrieved the check after I left there, and also my robe from off the fence, as I fled, and she was trying to catch up to me on foot, at first. Once we'd gone back to my apartment though, she logically, and lovingly, went back over the dire straits of my current life situation, again, while continuing to say that, this time, at least, my mother was right, and I HAD NO CHOICE but to get an abortion. With the new job looming closer and closer, and my situation seeming darker and darker, I acquiesced, once again, and on a Saturday morning, Ada drove me to another abortion clinic, and this time, that happened.

There was the intake with the woman behind the desk, again, asking me the questions, which I can't even recall now, because I was so overcome by horror at this whole situation. The check, from my mother, to pay for this, was signed over to this clinic, and Ada was there, with me, for emotional support. I went through my life having almost no emotional support from anyone, for anything, but I had it now, from her, for this. There was no advocate for the baby there, though; not even me, it's mother, now, which I assure you, to this day, I have never forgiven myself for. I have been crying even as I am writing this post, but I am hoping that my sharing this will lead other women to choose life, for their babies. Just choose life, and let God work out the details, whether a childless couple adopts the child, or some other viable solution presents itself. I am telling you, truthfully, that, in your heart of hearts, you will never be able to get over doing this, to this helpless being in your belly, if you have the abortion. We are made to love our offspring, not to kill them. I was shocked by how full this waiting room was, with other young women like myself, all silently sitting there, looking down at our feet, no one talking, to one another, at all. I daresay that all of us would rather not have been there. Something else striking, to me, about this scene, at that abortion clinic, that I strongly feel needs to be pointed out, was the absolute absence of any of the males involved in this. Every one of these babies, that were about to be aborted, came from their fathers, who had impregnated each one of us. While our society rails at the women getting these murderous procedures, WHERE ARE THE MEN WHO CREATED THESE LIVES? Why are THEY never in this picture, it seems? They were most certainly right there, present and accounted for, when these women, including myself, got pregnant by them. THEY should NOT be ignored, in this equation. THEY DO share the responsibility, and blame, for the death of these purely innocent beings. We women pay such huge prices for these men that see the extent of THEIR sexual responsibility going no farther than getting themselves off. I did see that guy, who'd impregnated me, in the parking lot of the apartment complex one day as he was coming home, and I told him that I was pregnant by him, then. His reaction seemed to be the standard, male, one, of complete unaccountability, and selfishness, as he said to me those two all-too-common comments, "How do I know it is mine?" and, "Just get an abortion!", and that was the end of that, as far as he was concerned. To him, this just wasn't his problem.

As the intake was done, on each one of us, they led us into a large room, where steel gurneys were lined up in a long row, and IVs were started on each of us in turn. Starting with the young woman at the farthest end of this row, of us, we were each wheeled in to a much smaller room, one at a time, one after another. I was somewhere in the middle, of this row, of gurneys, laying there, listening, to some vacuum noise, in the otherwise solemn quiet, start, and then stop, not long after, which began shortly after each woman was wheeled, out of sight, into that adjoining room. I don't know, now, what was in that IV or if I ever knew, even back then. It might've been a sedative, or even something to start the death of the baby (Yes, 'the BABY'; NOT 'a speck of tissue', or a non-person, but a CHILD, there inside of me. We are talking about MURDER here, whether you acknowledge that, or agree with that, or not, and I AM A MURDERER, because of this moment in my life. It IS what IT IS!). When the nurse came, and wheeled me in, to the little room, she folded my arms, across my chest, then pulled up the lower half of my hospital gown, wrapping them tightly inside it until it looked, and felt, like I was in a strait-jacket. I attempted to sit up, but I couldn't, while I immediately started saying to the doctor and to her, "I don't want to do this! I have changed my mind! You can just keep the check! STOP! STOP! STOP! . . ." until it just went black, for me, as I heard that vacuum noise begin. The next thing that I recall, I was still saying "STOP!  STOP!  STOP!" only, I groggily heard the nurse, saying to me, now, "It's all over, honey" and realized then that I was back out in the larger room again now. Someone told me, later, that, with the open IV, in my arm, they had simply pushed a button, to release a drug into it and had knocked me right out. But I had told them, before the vacuum noise began, that I had changed my mind. So, was that too late, to do that? They hadn't listened to me! Did they want the money, that much? Or the baby dead, that badly . . . . Or, both? I didn't know. They'd put a big menstrual-type absorbent pad, on me, because I was bleeding heavily, now, Helping me get dressed, they relinquished me to Ada's care, and she drove me home to my apartment.

On the way there, I turned my face toward the passenger side window, away from Ada. By the time we got back to my apartment I was bleeding so heavily that it had leaked through the pad. Ada said that she would go, and get me some more pads, but I told her to please just go away, and leave me alone now, so she did. With that blood leaking out and down my legs, I lay down on my bed and turned my face to the wall, with tears just streaming down my cheeks. I wanted to, and started to, reach out to the Lord in my deep pain and distress, because all my life I had turned to Him, about anything and everything. But I stopped myself, this time, saying to myself, silently, through my tears, "I CAN'T do that NOW! I can't do THAT, anymore, EVER AGAIN. I'm a murderer, and He KNOWS it! I can't EVER go to Him, again, about anything, now . . . ." [This is how our sin makes us feel, toward God! Reference Genesis 3, especially verse 8, to see the very first time that this ever happened, between people and God.] As I lay there, more alone in that moment that I ever felt in my entire life, feeling the sticky blood underneath the pad and on my legs, feeling certain that I could never come to God about anything, ever again, because of this BIG sin, I just took in the stillness, and the aloneness, and the hopelessness, I was feeling, while also realizing that my back was hurting alot, because of being on the steel gurney, for the murder of my child. My subconscious thought, in that moment, was a longing, to have my back rubbed, to rid it of that awful aching, which was reminding me of the reality, of this tragedy, that had just occurred. No sooner had I had that unspoken thought, than I had that feeling, that one gets, when you are in a room, alone, but then, sense someone else has entered; and you look up, and see them, there, after feeling their presence, before you ever saw them. For a moment I thought that perhaps Ada had come back, after all, bringing more pads, as she had wanted to do, for me, because my face was to the wall, and my back was to the door, of my apartment. I turned slightly to look over my shoulder, intending to tell her again to just go away, because all I wanted was to be alone, right now, in my grief. I was shocked, to see that this was NOT Ada.

It was the Lord, Jesus! He is so completely pure, righteous, and sinless, and I could FEEL that, emanating from Him. By contrast, all I could feel, oozing FROM ME, then, along with the blood flow, from the abortion, was that I was now a MURDERER. I was feeling mortified, by that, so I quickly turned my face back to the wall. I just could not look at Him. I was so ashamed. I didn't say anything to Him, at all, because I didn't feel that I could, now. He was so holy, and I was so sinful. I couldn't fathom WHY He was even willing, or wanting, to be with me, there, then, at all. He didn't say anything, to me, but HE began to rub my back, which was hurting BECAUSE OF the gurney that I had lain on while my baby was killed! It felt so good, to feel the pain leave my back, from this warmth, and motion, of HIS loving hands. I KNEW that I deserved to be hurting instead, and, even worse than that, after what had just happened, rather than feeling the relief, and the healing, that He was providing me, now. I also knew why He was not saying anything, to me, at all, about it. Since He is TRUTH, and SPEAKS only truth, He couldn't comfort me, in my deep distress, by telling me anything like "It's okay" or "It's alright", because BOTH OF US knew that those things were NOT TRUE. His pronouncements are always righteous; but He is always loving. What I had just done was NOT okay, and was NOT alright, in His Book; literally. What He was demonstrating, to me, that day, though, as He lovingly rubbed all of that pain out of my back, which was due to the abortion, was HIS GRACE! That memory, of HIM, doing that FOR ME, on that awful day, became the very picture, to me, of what HIS Grace IS, and what it DOES. By definition, Grace is UNMERITED FAVOR. He offers that to each of us, because "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). "Grace" had always been more of an abstract, and a religious, concept FOR ME, until that day, in my life. Ever since then, this memory has been the defining moment, that has allowed and enabled me to comprehend and experience God's Grace, in my life. It is personal, and relational. It truly is AMAZING GRACE!

Romans 5:12 ESV “Therefore, just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned—"

John 3:16-17 ESV “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him."

1 Corinthians 2:9 ESV “But, as it is written, 'What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him'—"

"What Time Is It?" (A Devotional I Wrote)

We live in Time on Earth. Eternity is endless existence. This scripture applies to our life, now:

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NIV
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.

This is a great Daily Checklist, for our spirit, as far as not only our intent, but our motive. This scripture, like all scripture, can help to keep us on track, and away from causing there to be a train wreck, of our lives, which happens when we live our lives in opposition to God's Word. If I'd simply stopped, and asked myself, "What time is it?", spiritually speaking, especially at key junctures, in my life, I could have avoided alot of the heartache that I have suffered in this life, from my not being properly pensive prior to making important choices, that affected my future. The saddest time to live in is that of it now being 'too late'. The choice is made; the die is cast. It is what it is.

We constantly wrestle with decisions, about what to do, in our lives, at a certain time. Today, I recognized that it was not the time for me to go to the grocery store after hearing the forecast and finding out that tomorrow it will be much less humid and about 10 degrees cooler. Since I walk to the store, about a half hour each way, for a distance of just over 2 1/2 miles, and plan to buy some frozen food items, deciding what time is right, to go, is important to the outcome. In today's heat, and humidity, neither I nor the frozen corn would have been at our very best!

Being aware of our mortality as one verse also speaks of should help us to prioritize what it is that we do each day. Whatever That is that we do with our time today, we are exchanging one day of our lifetime for That! Is whatever That is worth it? Answering the question "What time is it?", using the scripture verses, above, as the guideline, for determining that, helps us to know with more certainty. There's a time to do something and a time to not do something in this life, and no one can really know what time that is, for us, in our pilgrimage on this Earth, except for God, and, sometimes, ourselves. Asking God, about these things, can help us to know. Prayer is important, as well as scripture, and I also, unapologetically, believe in Signs*. I believe God wants to communicate with us about the very life that He has given us to live for His Glory and that He will use a limitless number of an infinite variety of things to help us to know what time it is, in our lives, as far as what we are to do, or not do, and when. We need to seek His wisdom.

These Bible verses really have something to say about any and every situation that we face, if we will just allow them to do their work, in our day-to-day lives, by leading us to wisdom, in our decisions. They cover anything that could possibly be on our TO DO List, of which we wonder, all throughout our lives, usually on a daily basis, if not even moment-to-moment, if the answer to each question, that we face, large or small, is "Yes", "No", or, "Wait". To paraphrase William Shakespeare's soliloquy, by Hamlet, in Hamlet**: 'To Do, or Not To Do; that IS the question!' It is important, to do our best, to do what we should do, and at the right time, to avoid some of the unnecessary heartache from our not doing that, which I can attest to, first hand, because I did not utilize the available assistance, of God's Word, the way that I should have, when I was younger. Now, I won't do a thing without it as I try to mitigate more brokenness in me by doing things God's way to the best of my knowledge. God is not trying to deprive us. God is trying to protect us. Ever since the Fall of Adam and Eve, in the Garden of Eden, we humans have not trusted that this is God's Plan, indeed His very heart, for us. In our making our decisions, then, apart from what He has clearly instructed us to do, as our Creator, we have brought those bad consequences upon ourselves, and others. We cannot blame God for our rebellion, or its pain.

What is it time to do in your life? What is it time that you stop doing in your life? What time is it?

*Some scripture regarding signs:

1 Samuel 10:7
"It shall be when these signs come to you, do for yourself what the occasion requires, for God is with you."

Isaiah 38:7
"This shall be the sign to you from the LORD, that the LORD will do this thing that He has spoken . . . ."

2 Chronicles 32:24
"In those days Hezekiah became mortally ill; and he prayed to the LORD, and the LORD spoke to him and gave him a sign."

Joshua 24:17
"for the LORD our God is He who brought us and our fathers up out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage, and who did these great signs in our sight and preserved us through all the way in which we went and among all the peoples through whose midst we passed."

Luke 2:12
"This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

1 Samuel 14:10
"But if they say, 'Come up to us,' then we will go up, for the LORD has given them into our hands; and this shall be the sign to us."

Jeremiah 44:29
"'This will be the sign to you,' declares the LORD, 'that I am going to punish you in this place, so that you may know that My words will surely stand against you for harm.'"

**Speech: “To be, or not to be, that is the question”

By William Shakespeare

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. . . .