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. . . .

My Son's Other Mother Was Heaven-Sent

Sometimes God's answers to our prayers aren't at all what we thought---or even hoped--- they would be. When I had gone back to Biloxi, after my discharge from the Air Force, I had hoped that what Jim and I had originally had, together, was what I would find then, and even forever! But that didn't happen. I had never thought that I would become pregnant! But that did happen. I had never thought that ending up marrying the man that I loved, more than I have ever loved any human being on this earth, would be, right from the wedding day, such a miserable time in my life. It really resonated with that saying:  'Be careful what you wish for; you just might get it!' I had hoped that our son would grow up in a loving, two-parent home. That prayer of mine was answered; but those parents, and that home, would not include me. Jim, and Linnea, would be providing this life for my son, and to give my son that better life I would have to let him go. So I did. I wanted what was best for him. Being raised by me, as a struggling single mother, wasn't ever going to give Jay the stability, financial security, or the role modeling from having his male parent, and also seeing the relationship between two loving parents who lived in harmony with one another, that he would have in their home. I wanted a better childhood for him than I'd had.

Linnea came into the picture while I was in the process of divorcing Jim. I was not aware of her relationship with Jim until after I moved back into his townhouse, with our baby, because of my failing to find a safe and secure housing situation for my son, while he was with me. However, I did not return to the marital relationship, with Jim (not that there was much of one, between us, to begin with). The first indication I had that something had changed for him was when he was suddenly acting really unusual when I needed to talk to him about something and had stepped into the bathroom, where he was just finishing his shower, to speak with him about it. He acted like some chaste male virgin, covering himself quickly, as I walked in, which both amused and annoyed me, since I had clearly already seen his penis, including being impregnated by it. His 'joystick' had been a real liability in my relationship with him, if anything! If he had something--- anything at all--- that I had still wanted, I would not have divorced him (or it). He told me that he had met Linnea, after he followed my advice and took an evening job teaching ballroom dance at a studio in Omaha. Those places were extremely popular back then, both during and on the heels of the disco era. I had told him about the job, thinking that it would be good for him, after seeing it in the Want Ads during my own job search. As it turned out, it was good for ALL of us. Jim, Jay, and me. Because of Jim meeting his second wife there, who would become the other mother to my son, we were all greatly blessed! Without the initial input from me, there is a high likelihood that Jim and Linnea would never have met one another. I believe it was God working in the situation, for everyone's good. She was the answer to all of my prayers, about my son. I knew it from the moment I met her. I just knew that she was Heaven-sent to become his mom.

Jim and I did not want the same things, or have the same goals, for our future. Our child was blameless, in this whole situation, and I was determined that Jay was not going to suffer from the consequences of Jim's and my mistakes (and our sins), if I could help it! I wanted our son to have the most solid foundation possible to be raised in. If that couldn't be with me, then so be it. I had tried my very best to care for him, but with no real support from Jim or anyone else during that time, except for the Child Support checks, and few resources, as well as my being unable to find a suitable, and safe, long-term, housing situation, for the two of us, I knew that keeping Jay with me was not going to be the best choice I could make, for him. My baby was growing up fast. Soon he would need much more than the basics I was able to provide for him now, in the situation of my having complete custody of him, due to his tender age. I didn't think that it would be wise to keep him with me longer than I had, knowing that the older he got, the more aware he would be, and the more memories he would have of me. I was already deeply concerned, as it was, with him now being a toddler rather than a newborn or an infant, that he could be emotionally traumatized, when the day finally came that I was no longer with him, in his daily life, when it had basically been just the two of us, up until this point. My son Jay and I.

I had to think of this child now. He needed a happy home life, and a good quality situation that he could thrive in. I would finally have that, for him, too, but, not with us able to be together, as we always had been, anymore, as mother and child. It would not be with his father, Jim, and I, together, with him, either. I would have to end up giving my child away, to Jim, and to his new girlfriend, Linnea, who became Jim's second wife shortly after this, for Jay to have that kind of home life, and I would never get to have that for myself or with him. What mattered most to me though was that my son would be brought up in a stable, loving, two-parent home with his own father, and a step-mother that he would soon see as his 'real' mother, as he should have, since I had only birthed him, and raised him until he was a toddler, while Linnea did all the rest of it, after that, bringing him up well, to be a good, grown, man. What Jim and I had together was a strong, magnetic, apparently primarily sexual, attraction, to one another, usually described as 'opposites attract'. The trouble with that is opposites do not really live well, together, and there was just never enough 'common ground', for us to build any kind of a solid, mutually desirable, foundation for our relationship with one another. Linnea came into the picture while I was living in the townhouse with Jim and our baby, although I had already started the legal divorce, from Jim. I will say, here, and have said, throughout all these years (my son is almost 38 years old, as I write this Blog post), that she is probably the best person I have ever known in my life! I'm so deeply grateful that she was, is, and forever will be such a big part of my son Jay's life! She was a God-given answer to my prayers! Because of Linnea's gracious and loving presence, in our lives, I was able to give my baby boy the very home life I so wanted him to have, by giving him up, to be raised by her and Jim. I loved my little boy with all my heart, and just got tears in my eyes, typing that now. As for how I felt about Jim, I had never stopped loving him, under all the hurt and anger I felt toward, and because of, him. But, I had lost all my belief that God had actually meant for us to end up together, although it had surely seemed that way to me at first.

I had no remaining illusions about Jim ever truly loving me, so, I wasn't letting go of anything I actually had, with him, due to that. I felt, long ago, that his behaviors demonstrated that he did not love me (or, not enough), for us to be able, or even want, to make it, together. He'd moved on; and then lived a happy life with Linnea which I am glad about, for him and for my son, Jay, who was brought up in the midst of their relationship with one another. It is what it is. My life is lived with the Lord as my Husband (Isaiah 54:5) now, so both Jim and I, in our own way, had a happy ending; just not together. Jim was always very good at focusing, laser-like, on his goals. He almost always got what he was after and more so, made his life become what he wanted it to be, with very few exceptions. I have been and done the total opposite of that, in my life. I've pretty much ended up 'stuffing' a lot of heartache from the crap that has come into my life from people. Even when that has made me miserable, I have mostly felt unable to change it, or stop it, or make it better somehow, except for leaving, and ending, the unhappy relationships, when there was not only no improvement, but they got worse, over time. Dr. Phil, Steve Harvey, and others say that people will treat us like we allow them to, or teach them to. To think my wanting to be loved somehow brought me the mistreatment and abuse that I have suffered in my life is a horrifying thought to me and very confusing, because I opened myself up to those people for love to flow between us; not their crap, I was subjected to instead, because of their own selfish intentions, agendas, and needs. It felt like they just pillaged my life and then departed; in Jim's case, taking my heart with him, as a souvenir. I resented them, but I blamed myself, because I had allowed these people into my life, in the first place, thinking they were bringing something good, fun, affirming, helpful, caring, nurturing, or loving to me, since I had thought that was the reason that we were on this planet with one another. My life has been lived largely in a form of Damage Control, with me being more deeply convinced, with every hurt and heartache I have suffered that I am unlovable, because of how people, that I have loved and cared about, have treated me, when I allowed them to be in my life. If it weren't for God's Love for me, I feel sure that I would not have survived all of this crap or be able to function, even as well as I (struggle to) manage to, with the frustrations, and challenges, that I face every day, such as from OCD, and anxiety, which have resulted from my stressful, and scary, relationships with other human beings going back to my very earliest childhood. I have had no choice but to become a strong woman, but I still have a tender, fragile, heart, that seems to cause people to want to victimize me, rather than respect me, for that gentleness, in me. I am proud of myself, for still standing, after all that I have been through; reasonably intact! I am still living, I am still loving, and I am still laughing, in spite of all these traumas to my soul; and I give God all of the glory for that!

After Jim told me about Linnea, I wanted to meet her, so he had her stop by the townhouse to do that. I wondered about alot of things, as I opened the door and saw this woman, smiling so benignly at me. I wondered what exactly Jim had told her, about our relationship together, and what it was or wasn't, to him. I felt that he must have either told her something which was very reassuring or else something that wasn't completely true, for her to seem so unthreatened that I was back, living with him, under any circumstances which he must have described to her. My realization that she probably had been told Jim's real thoughts and feelings about me, and our relationship together, which he had never shared with me, left me feeling uneasy. His refusal to really communicate with me had left me with only speculation about that important information. Linnea had a sweet spirit, and a gentle manner about her. I found her to be genuine, and good-hearted. She had to be a tough, and very secure, lady, as well, underneath all of that, for her to seem so completely at ease meeting and talking with me there in the townhouse, knowing that Jim's child and I were back under his roof, living with him again. She was plainer, and plumper than me, but she had something that I didn't have. She had whatever had caused Jim to fall in love with her, which I had either never really had, or he had changed his mind about, for some reason. If this awkward situation had been reversed, between Linnea and I, I do not think that I would have ever been able to handle our meeting one another so graciously, as she did. In so many ways, she just seemed to be a better person than I am; something which my grown son, Jay, laid out fairly clearly, as well, in one of his emails to me, earlier this year. Appreciating his honesty, and doing my very best to live that way myself, I emailed him back agreeing with him, because I completely understand why he loves her, as much as he does; as he should. I have absolutely no problem with that, at all! Hearing him express his love for his other mother--- the only one that he can remember ever raising him since he was still so young when I transferred his custody to them--- was proof positive (which I really never needed, because she is such a great person) that I did indeed make the right decision, the very best possible decision, for my son, all those years ago, given the circumstances. His praises of her made me feel even more grateful that she has been his mother; one that he has loved so deeply and dearly, and valued.

Linnea was literally a Godsend, for each of us, and for all of us! I had been a very loving, and extremely devoted, mother to my son, but it would take even more than I had to give, to meet all of his needs, and to do it well. This was the best option for my son. It was also excruciating for me to do this. It reminded me at the time of the Bible story (1 Kings 3:16-28) about the two mothers claiming the same baby boy as their own. They went before the King, with this issue, and he quickly ascertained which of these women was actually the boy's true birth mother, by suggesting that the baby be cut in two, with each woman getting half of him. When one of the two women begged the King to just give him to the other one instead who had not carried him in her womb or birthed him, who had actually agreed to the king's proposal to resolve this, the king knew, immediately, which one was his real mother, and gave her baby boy back to her. It was like our situation in that I was exactly like the mother in this Bible story, who was willing to completely let go of her own baby so that he could live, and have his best chance at life, given the situation that she faced. Only I placed my son, myself, into the hands, and the care, of the other mother knowing that it is the mother figure, in almost any home, that does the very great majority of the actual child raising, compared to what is usually the father's hands on input and involvement with the child. From the very beginning Linnea also wanted what was best for Jay, and she loved him, with a true mother's love! We were always of the same mind and heart, on this. Neither I nor Linnea ever wanted anything but the very best life, for Jay. We were both in complete agreement, on that, and on what that looked like, which was for she and Jim to take our son and raise him together in their own two-parent, loving, home, which Jim and I couldn't have, together. Too much had happened between Jim and I for the two of us to ever be able to want to make a life together. Our baby deserved much better, than what a home with Jim and I together was like. I had been so utterly unhappy, in it, that I knew I could not translate that into a happy scenario for my son. Sadly, it was what it was. My life had been deeply damaged, by that relationship with Jim. I didn't want my--- our!--- baby boy's to be the same. Jim didn't treat anyone else, that I ever saw, as poorly as he had treated me. So, I felt sure that, with him and Linnea, he would be the man, with her, that I had first known, and loved, so deeply; just as he was with anyone else, except for me. I think that Jim blamed me, for the negative impact that our relationship, and the results of it, had on his life, without really considering the damage it had done to mine. I would even say that I paid a much higher price for it than it ever cost him.   I didn't see my own son grow up. Linnea was definitely the bright spot, in all of this darkness.

I had tried my best to make sure that Jay's childhood would not be anything like mine was, and his was so much better than mine--- THANK GOD! He was also raised by two parents who had both had better childhoods than mine, which makes a huge difference, in both who we are and how we are, as people, and affects who we are and how we are as parents. Linnea grew up in a home where she was wanted, valued, and deeply loved, by a wonderful couple who adopted her. I had the pleasure and privilege of being invited to visit their home in Carter Lake, Iowa, on a few occasions, during and after my transferring custody of Jay, to Jim and Linnea. They were both truly 'salt of the Earth' people. I would have loved to have them as my parents! They were such good people. After meeting them, I felt very wistful that I had not had the blessing of such loving and supportive parents in my life. Jim had the identical upbringing Linnea had in several important and impactful ways, right down to his also being adopted by loving parents. So, they not only really understood one another, coming from similar backgrounds, they had both grown up very secure about being loved and wanted. That was something that I had never had, in my upbringing, during my formative years, or any time after that, despite being raised by my actual birth parents. As a result, I never had the confidence, or conviction, within me, that I was either loved, or lovable. This made every relationship alot harder, for me, than for either one of them.

The way that things had gone with Jim, and me, had only reinforced these hurtful beliefs, even more, about my not being wanted, or loved. So, seeing how in love Jim and Linnea seemed to be, with one another, I just figured that it hadn't happened for me, because I wasn't lovable, so I didn't deserve it. That message was so deeply driven home, to me, by things going so badly, between me and this man that I loved, more than I ever loved anyone in my life, that whatever my relationship choices were, in my life, from that point on, reflected what I now believed, with all my heart, was the truth about me. I am crying right now, as I am typing that. It's hard to say this, but it is honestly how I have felt, based on how I have been treated by the very ones who were supposed to want me and love me but didn't for whatever reasons. I've gone through life feeling like there's a mark on my forehead designating me as "Damaged Goods". Every time I have let a man into my life, and into my heart, they have behaved in ways that indicated that I wasn't worth treating well, or caring about. However, because of the 'Blessed Assurance'* that "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so . . . .", I have never remained in any bad relationship out of some desperation that this would be the best that I could have with anyone, or that this is what I deserve from anyone. I know at my core that those are lies from the pit of Hell. In fact, when I see, or even sense, that someone is trying to manipulate me, due to them perceiving my vulnerability, due to my painful emotions about risking relationships with others, including with them, and they bargain that I will take their shit, thinking I want them to love me at all costs, they end up very much surprised, that I simply, and quite unsentimentally, end the unhealthy relationship with them, instead, and don't allow them to treat me that way anymore.

This is where my strong faith in God, and in His Love for me, and care of me, really shines the brightest, which is where my strength comes from, and why I have been able to survive all that I have in my life, but still appear to many people as if I have lived a very sweet, sheltered, and simple life. I know, that they think that, because they have told me so! My final husband, Mark, once said to me, as he stood over me while I was down on the floor, cowering, to try to protect myself, after another one of his abusive fits of rage, that 'he could treat me any way that he felt like, because (his perception was that) I so badly did not want another divorce, that I would just put up with it'. What is wrong with these men that treat their women this way? Can you imagine someone you loved saying this is what they think that you deserve, and why? It is so extremely hurtful. After that relationship ended with him, which did not take very long, it is no wonder that I finally gave up, on my marital hopes, altogether, because they kept costing me so much more than the reality, of my having that in my life, ever gave to me. I am so very grateful every single day that God loves me! Without His love, I probably would not have survived, this life, this long.

I would directly, or indirectly, have self-destructed, in some way, at some point, due to all that I have been through because of other people and their behavioral choices which have impacted me, in some devastating ways. We are made to love, and to be loved, and I just wasn't finding that with other people in any healthy way. From parents to husbands these important, intimate, relationships, which most often form the very foundation of our lives, were troubling, and toxic, for me. Studies have shown that, even in animals (which I often think are so much more loving than people), there is 'a failure to thrive' **, or in some cases, to even continue to live, without palpable love being experienced in life. It is critically important to our health and happiness that we find and feel that in some way with someone. My older brother, Mike, committed suicide at age 40, by shooting himself, in the heart---  that very place where he was hurting so deeply---  from not finding love in his life. He had been raised by the same parents that I had, which had likely contributed to this deficiency of affirmation and affection, for him, to begin with, just as it had done, so destructively, with me. Very poignantly, he was on the phone with the most recent 'love interest' in his life, who was also rejecting his need to connect meaningfully with her. As a 40 year old virgin male, it was the last straw, for him. He simply could not take it, anymore, and was unable to go on, feeling that his life was not worth living, without love, despite all his other very impressive accomplishments. Love is what makes all the difference, in our lives. It is what the human heart is most hungry for. After pouring out his longing, which wasn't reciprocated by her, just as he had experienced throughout his life with all the females he had tried, and failed, to form a bond with, he quite literally died of a broken heart; killing himself. My relationship with God, and experience of His great love for me, has been very insulating, for me, as I have dealt with the disappointments and destruction, in my life, caused by people who claimed to love me but gave me so much grief, and harm, in place of that. I was left having to deal with dilemmas, like this, with nothing left to show for my settling for too little, from them, only to get even less.

In fact, I sat Jim down, after I had met Linnea, and gotten to know her more, and emphatically recommended, even requested, that he marry her! I told him that if he married her (because I really liked her, and thought she would make a wonderful mother for Jay) I would give custody of our baby boy to the two of them so that Jay could finally have the stable, loving, two-parent home that I so deeply wanted for him. I recall also telling Jim that I would not transfer custody, otherwise, because I feared that without Linnea, who was loving and stable, Jim would simply continue having a steady string of short-term women coming through his life, and I didn't want my son to live in a state of constant confusion about which, if any, of them was his mother, or develop an attachment disorder from his repeatedly forming bonds with some of those women who may not be permanent fixtures in Jim's, and therefore his, life. Not very long after Jim and I had that conversation, Linnea came by the townhouse, and showed me the engagement ring that Jim had gotten her. I gave her a big hug! I was happy for her. I was proud of Jim, for being willing to settle down, after his so recently not wanting to do that, at all, with me, and our baby. But, I was especially happy for my son, Jay. This would give him that stable, two-parent, loving home, and a much better future, than remaining with me, as a struggling single mom, who had given him her best but that just wasn't going to be enough to meet his all needs. God is good!

With Jim and Linnea now engaged to marry one another, and preparing to take full custody, of Jay, I began the very focused and deliberate process of helping Jay adjust to the transition, so that he would not be traumatized by this very different lifestyle which was about to happen, for him, after what he had been familiar with while he had been with me. While Jim's and Linnea's relationship was deepening and progressing now, I began to expose Jay to the two of them as much as possible, and especially Linnea, who was this completely new face, in my little boy's life. She and I would take Jay on walks, with just the two of us, at first taking turns pushing his stroller, with me eventually having her do that herself, as I walked along with them. After all, it was a transition for her, as well as for Jay, since she did not have any children, of her own, at the time, and was a successful career woman, before setting that aside, to focus more on her new family, after she and Jim married. I am a person that believes in Signs, and I took notice, after being quite surprised by this, at first, that when Linnea and I would encounter strangers, during our walks with Jay, they almost always said how much he looked like his mother, then, but indicated they thought it was her, and not me! While I loved my baby boy, with a mother's heart, and my love for Jim was the deepest, I have ever felt for someone, my love for Linnea was the purest form. In all these years that I have known her, there has been almost nothing I could have found fault with her for. That is saying a great deal, because no one is perfect, not even her. The Bible says that ". . . all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). She is, without a doubt, one of the most perfect-seeming people that I have ever known which is very high praise from me because my standards are high for human behavior, which I have even fallen quite short of, myself, at times. There are very few people, that I have known in my life, that personify God's Grace, for me, in this fallen world, and Linnea is one of those!

While the baby and I continued to live with Jim in the townhouse, which had been Jim's and my home, when we were married, and Jay's first home, after he was born, we had Linnea move in with us, also, toward the goal, we were all working toward, together, of continuing to familiarize Jay with what this new home life was going to look, and feel, like, for him, living with the two of them now. I would soon be out of the picture, of that. So, Linnea was now in the bedroom, that had been mine, with Jim, not very long before all this, and with only the bathroom between the two rooms, I slept across the hall, with the baby, in his nursery. Love gives, and there was alot of love, and giving, going on, in this situation, between us all, with the baby as our main focus, during this time of significant transition in all of our lives. While I would never portray myself as being a martyr, during all this, I do think it is fair to point out that I was the only one, of the four of us, not personally gaining anything for myself, from the situation, or from these relationships that were now being formed, and solidified, although I was having all of my prayers for my son answered, which was more than I could have hoped for not long before this. It was enough for me to be extremely grateful to God, and to Jim and Linnea. Since the baby was still too young to be able to verbalize any of what he was thinking, feeling, or needing, I was trying my best to help him with the transition, including by showing Linnea how I had been caring for him, in the context of his normal routine, such as bathing him and his other everyday needs. I felt that the more similar those routine experiences were for him, the less 'shock to his system' it would be. In the midst of my doing all this, though, with every step I took to help Linnea and Jay bond, I was simultaneously having to let go of my baby, that much more. It was hard. That is such an understatement, but there aren't words to really describe the depth of what I was feeling about that process, during all of this. I even recall a picture, that Linnea took, of me, standing beside Jay as he sat in his high chair, the day before I would finally be moving out, into an apartment of my own, at the end of all this, with me smiling. What is much harder to see, in that photo, is what I so clearly remember about that moment, which is that, because my heart was breaking over this goodbye, with my son, my eyes were filled to the brim with tears that I fought to hold back, and tried to cover with my big smile as best I could. I stood there in that moment, at age 26, with my brunette pigtails, hiding my heartbreak, while Linnea took that photo of Jay and I. Even then, I was thinking only about my son; that, if he ever saw that picture, I wanted him to see that I was happy for him, and for them, as a family. And I truly was. I was just terribly sad for me. But, as I reminded myself, through the whole process, this wasn't about me, but Jay.

One day, as I was showing Linnea the way that I had always bathed the baby, in the tub, I must have surely seemed, to her, to be micromanaging this method, because suddenly this normally very gracious woman got a little assertive toward me doing that with her, so I just left the room. I was not upset with her, though, as I sat outside the bathroom, then, while she finished up the baby's bath, as she saw fit to do. I was upset with me, for my not giving her more credit for her also loving Jay and having only his best interests at heart, as I struggled emotionally with each step of this, to hand over more and more of my mothering my baby to her, since he would soon be hers, to mother. I was doing the best I could, with all this. It wasn't lost on me, that day, as I sat there, just outside the bathroom, at the top of the stairs, that this was the exact spot, when I had been pregnant with Jay, that I had dropped down onto the floor, on all fours, with my baby belly hanging down, sobbing hysterically as I had said to Jim, that day, "WHY can't you LOVE ME?!? . . . WHY? WHY? . . . WHY?!?"  (Reference my August 7, 2019, Blog post, for this part of the story, in detail.) Again, now, in this moment, with Linnea and Jay bonding, as mother and child, I felt so alone, in my heartbreak. I felt loveless, and alone. Would anyone ever love me?

Jim offered, and paid for, a six-week Nursing Assistant certification course, for me, at the local community college, so that I would have a better, and a more secure, employment opportunity, going forward into my new life without Jay with me. Ada, the woman who lived next door to the house where I had worked, caring for the handicapped children, after starting the divorce from Jim, babysat Jay for me, while I was in school fulltime for those 6 weeks, which gave me great peace of mind.  As with Linnea, Ada was also a very special, and loving, woman, and I was so glad, and grateful, that they were both a part of my son's life! Meanwhile, I kept helping Jay, to bond more with Linnea, and less with me, for his own sake, but I also did not want him to ever feel that any of this was because I was in some way rejecting him. So, to demonstrate, to him, while also telling him (even though I was unsure how much of it he could comprehend, at such a young age), that 'He was very blessed, because HE had TWO mothers, that LOVED HIM', I began to be sure that Linnea was front and center, in his life. I had her go along with me, to his pediatrician, for his well baby checkup, knowing that it was also important that Doctor Maragos was aware of what was going on with this, and who Linnea was, in my baby's life, now. As you can imagine, this was an unusual situation, to be sure, which this older doctor had likely never encountered in all his years of medical practice, so it didn't surprise me that he was freaked out by it. Taking me out of the exam room to talk with me while Linnea stayed in there with Jay, this emotive Greek gentleman actually pulled me onto his lap, as a father might do, with a daughter that he was really concerned about, and he questioned me about this entire situation going on. After I explained it all to him, comprehension now came over his face where concern had once been, but, he still felt he had to ask me, one final time, because he knew how very diligent of a mother I was to my son, Jay, and how deeply I loved my baby boy, "ARE YOU SURE, that you want to do this?" When I nodded yes, looking him in the eyes, while there was tears, in both of ours, he sighed, with resignation, and acceptance, and then we went back into the exam room to finish Jay's check up. I was also aware of how Linnea might have been feeling during it, so I focused on this pediatrician and her also forming at least some connection together since I had no idea whether they would continue to bring the baby to this particular pediatrician, after I was out of the picture as far as his upbringing, but I wanted them all to feel comfortable, if they did.

Tangibly showing Jay all the love surrounding him, from all of us, seemed to connect more with his understanding and acceptance of the situation, than telling him, although I did both of them, trying to make it as pleasant, painless, and peaceful, as possible, for this precious little person. Linnea worked with me, on this. Bringing some fun into it, from his perspective, helped too. We took a ball outside, in the front yard, and lightly rolled, or tossed, it, not very far at all, for Jay to retrieve, and bring back to us, since he was walking, by this time. I would say, "Bring the ball to Mommy, Jay!" and, of course, he would bring the ball to me. I gave him a big, loving, hug, then said, "Mommy LOVES you, Jay!". Then I would roll the ball for him to get, again, and say, "Jay, take the ball to your OTHER MOTHER, this time. SHE loves you TOO!" Naturally, this being a new concept for him initially, he looked at me with a quizzical expression, hesitating as he held the ball, to bring back to 'Mommy', trying to understand what it was I was asking him to do with it. So, I pointed to Linnea, and said, again, in a very enthusiastic, and reassuring, voice, "Take the ball to Linnea, Jay. YOU are blessed to have TWO MOMMIES WHO LOVE YOU! Take the ball to your OTHER MOTHER, this time, Jay." We went back and forth, like this, several times, with Jay, the ball, and a big, loving, hug from whichever mother got the ball brought to them by him after each retrieval. Finally, when I said, "Bring the ball to your Mommy, Jay!", he got it, on his own, without me having to point her out, or explain anything else about it to him. This time, right after I said to him, "Bring the ball to your Mommy, Jay!", without even looking over at me, or seeming confused, or hesitating, at all, he toddled straight over to Linnea, and gave her the ball.  As she gave him a big hug, holding him in that embrace, her eyes met mine, which were brimming with tears. It was both painful and joyful, for me, because I knew at that moment my baby was going to be just fine with his new mother and his father, and without me. And, that it was time, now, for me to focus on moving out and moving on, with my life, so they could focus on being the family, together, that I had wanted my son to have, but couldn't give him, myself.

I moved out of the townhouse, not very long after that, and into an old apartment complex near downtown Omaha, where I could almost afford the cheap rent, on my Nurse's Aide salary from the nursing home in Papillion, where I had gotten my job, after graduating from the certification program. Although there was a high demand, for this new job skill that I now had, it did not pay well; basically minimum wage. My landlady, Myrna, was a late-middle-aged, husky-voiced, real character, with a heart of gold. She was so understanding, about how tight things were, for me, financially, since I also had to cover the car payments and the other expenses, for the compact Chevy which I still needed, to be able to get to work out in Papillion. More than once she let me keep some of my rent money, to catch up later, without charging me a late fee or other penalty, for that, simply because she knew it still left me with exactly $12.00 for groceries, for the entire week! This was in 1983 but, even back then, that wasn't alot of money. I remember that I was living on bologna and cheese sandwiches, with mustard, at that time. Jim and Linnea brought Jay over to visit me, for a few hours, on several occasions. It was going well with the four of us.

I was a little worried, at first, that things would take a turn for the worse, between us, after they called me on their wedding day, and rescinded my invitation to it, and to spend time with Jay. I always believed that they had only met because of me, in the first place, and, I had been very supportive of them, the entire way through, so it hurt, and actually angered me, at the time, to be shut out like that, now, on an occasion that also meant alot to me, too, on behalf of my son. However, as frustrated as I felt, I still did not blame them. They were probably trying to placate their parents, to keep the peace, on their special day. Jim's parents, who did not like me, were there for the wedding, and although Linnea's parents were always very gracious to me, when I visited their home during Jay's custody transition, they also began to seem a bit confused, and perhaps concerned, that I was, and wanted to be, still actively engaged with all of them, after I had moved out from living with Jim, and, by then, Linnea; and Jay. So, sensing that from them, I began to withdraw, much more, from my involvement in it, since it did not seem as if I was as welcome as I had been at first, while I was giving my son up, to them all. On Jim and Linnea's wedding day, since I wasn't allowed to be there, now, or to visit with Jay, I went to visit a monk, I believe he was, on the Columban Fathers property, in Old Towne, Bellevue, whom I had met previously when I was just walking the grounds there one day, seeking solitude for my troubled soul over all that was happening in my life then, that was so painful for me. He was allowed to have me stay and have a meal with him, in an isolated room where the two of us sat, together, away from the others in that monastic life. It felt a little odd, to be the only woman there, but he was more than gracious to me, and very compassionate, about the pain I was in, emotionally.

When Jay was brought to visit me, after I had transferred his custody, we always had a good time, just being together again. I did not have money, to do anything special with him, but he was content, with my company, and I entertained him, by my showing him things, around the apartment, which I thought would be interesting, for him. I had never had a gas stove, before that, and it did not appear that Jay had ever seen one, either, so I still remember holding him securely in my arms, and turning on one of the stove burners, and his reaction to that. As the neon-blue flame suddenly lit up, with a whoosh, in the dark kitchen, and began to flicker from the air currents, Jay's eyes grew huge with surprise and delight, and wriggling excitedly in my arms, he pointed his little finger toward it, and went "Ooooooohhh!" He was just so precious. I smiled, seeing his joy, from something so simple that I had shown him. A new experience! He had such a good time with me there, on that visit, that when Linnea came to the apartment to pick him up Jay pitched one of those falling-to-the-floor-in-a-fit tantrums that I had never seen him do before, except for when he was at my parents', in North Carolina, for awhile, with me, and my dad had manipulated his emotions like he had. As Jay lay there, sobbing, not wanting to leave, I suspected that it had more to do with the blue flame, being there, that he was now so captivated with, than it did with me, but it still broke my heart, to see him have to be pulled away from me, and crying. That was an exception not the norm but I recall going out to where Jim was, waiting for them, in the car, and standing there, helplessly, staring at the back of the car, as they all drove away, and out of my sight. It was not an easy time for me, by any means.

I moved to a slightly better apartment building, a couple of years later, after I landed a job as a Nurse's Aide in the hospital just up the street from there, which paid a little better but not much. I recall Linnea and Jay coming to visit me, there, and Jay's hyper moving about caused Linnea to bump into the sharp corner of a piece of furniture as we three sat close together on the floor in this tiny efficiency apartment. As Linnea admonished Jay, I realized I had gotten good at not micromanaging how he was to be raised, once I had left him in their care. Jay was responding to her the same way that any child does, to their mother, when they are being sharply scolded, in the moment; and I was at peace with it, now, as I witnessed this interaction between the two of them and recognized that this was, indeed, just as it should be . . . between Linnea and Jay. A mother and her child. Because Jim was in the Air Force they eventually left the Omaha area, moving away to other places, both around the country and the world. We did keep in touch, to some extent, during Jay's growing up years, but I stayed out of the situation much more than I involved myself, with it, so they could focus, on their busy family life, including bringing up Jay, and I could concentrate on making the best of mine, as it was, now. Linnea had always been very thoughtful, toward me, over the years, that Jay was growing up, sending me some of his poems and lyrics that he wrote, in his childhood scrawl, and calling me to tell me that he was trying to set one of my poems which I wrote, and sent him, to music, when he was a teenager. She sent me many of Jay's school pictures, and family photos, too. I think that the last photo I got, of Jay, was his high school graduation picture, which I believe was taken of him in 2000.

Although I had transferred Jay's custody to his own father, Jim, and Linnea, his 'other mother', I waited, to see how that would all go, before I made what I felt like was an even more important decision, on my son's behalf. Jim had shown such a wild side, after we were involved with one another, which had blindsided me, because the man, that I had fallen in love with, had seemed so shy, sweet, caring, and committed to our intimate, live-in, relationship, at first. That new part of his personality, that I was seeing, had shocked me, about him, and had not come across as being anything remotely monogamous or even heterosexual. Because of that revealing a much broader behavioral spectrum for him, I was not sure whether this would happen again with him, within their relationship, and derail it into divorce, as well. I was concerned that if the relentless restlessness, and animating appetites, of this seeming social butterfly whom Linnea now loved, caused problems for their marital bond with one another, my son would be caught in the middle of that, again. Things seemed to be going along well, for Jim and Linnea, as a couple, and, for the three of them, as a family, so I broached the subject with Linnea of giving her legal custody of Jay, now, by relinquishing my maternal rights, to her. She seemed to be very surprised that I was saying that to her, which surprised me, considering Jay had known her, as his mother, for awhile now. She explained to me that she had asked Jim about the possibility of my doing that, for them, with Jay, but that Jim had emphatically said to her that I would NEVER consider that, under any circumstances! I found that very curious, because Jim and I had never discussed it, even once, and this talk, that I was having, now, with Linnea, about it, was the very first time I had ever verbalized either my desire or my decision to do this, with anyone, at all. I wondered why Jim would tell her that, or assume that? But since he'd continued to be uncommunicative with me, directly, I had no idea what he was thinking, or why. I explained to Linnea that, since my son was in her care 24/7, I wanted to be certain that if there were ever an emergency, with him, or some problem at school, that she would have full legal authority to act on his behalf, in every situation which could arise. Sometimes Jim went TDY, in his Air Force job, and I wanted her to be able to always take care of anything that could come up, regarding Jay. Besides, she was already Jay's mother, now, in all the ways that mattered, in his day to day life. So, Linnea and I went together, just the two of us, to see a judge and ask that he handle this matter for us.

In this world of so much hostility among people in such a familial situation as ours, he was very favorably impressed with our relationship with one another, and our mutual concern for Jay, so he easily granted this for us. I asked Linnea not to say anything to anyone, not even to Jim, so that I could surprise her parents, and him, with what would, surely, be very good news to all of them. She agreed, and I had a copy of the legal document framed, and then wrapped up like a gift (which it was!), then I went to her parents home to present it to all of them, together. At first, her parents weren't too sure, or too comfortable, about why I, Jim's ex-wife, and Jay's mother, was coming by to see them. They were never ungracious to me, but I could tell they were a bit unsure about what was going on. Still, we all had dinner together there, and then went into the livingroom, where I presented the wrapped document to Jim, which now made his wife, Linnea, legally Jay's mother. I was wondering whether Linnea had managed to keep this very important secret, that only she and I had shared, before this, but I couldn't tell whether she had or not, by Jim's reaction, to it. He was sitting, in a chair, as I had handed it to him, to unwrap, and he just kept looking down at it, in his hands, with a serious espression on his face, and never said one word of any kind, about it, while I was there. So, again with him, I had absolutely NO idea what he was even thinking, or feeling, about this huge decision, that I had made, about our son. As he had opened the gift, from me, and sat staring at it, Linnea's parents kept saying, "Well, . . . what is it? What is going on . . . ?" When they finally saw what it said, they seemed to be very surprised, and overcome, with joy. Linnea's mother even gave me a grateful hug, before I left, so they could all celebrate, as a family, together. So, now, in the eyes of the law, I had no son. From Jay's point of view, he was already Linnea's little boy; only now, it was official. It was just something else I did, for him, to try to be sure that I had done all that I could do, to give him his best life. It is still hard for me to talk about any of this that I did, with him, and for him, though. I am crying, right now, as I am typing this, about it, and, to this day, I have NEVER been able to explain to people what this very difficult experience was like for me, of teaching my son to love another woman as his mother, and then let him go, to belong to her, so he could have his best chance for his best life with her and his father. Since all of this happened as a result of how Jim had behaved, toward me, I was always so relieved, that he did not seem to be treating Linnea badly, in any way, which could have destabilized my son's life, and disrupted his future. It hurt that I couldn't inspire my son's father to love me, so that we could have been a family together. I did not want us to be two parents who were miserable together, causing emotional upheaval for our child, like what my childhood had been like, for me, which was so extremely damaging. It hugely affected how I turned out, as a person. I would never have stayed with Jim, simply to be able to keep Jay with me. I was too unhappy. That would have affected my child, negatively.

I have always loved Linnea, from the moment I met her. I enjoyed our phone talks together and was genuinely excited whenever we got the chance to visit together, face to face, as well, even when Jay was not with her. I last saw Jay when he was around 9 years old, so that was almost 29 years ago, now. (The years fly by, so fast! My baby boy will soon be a middle-aged man! Of course, I am a senior citizen, now, myself.) Over the years, I had some nice phone chats, with Jay, but those were all while he was growing up. Once, on a phone call between us, when Jay was around 7 years old, or so, I started to cry, because I loved him, and missed him, so much. He heard that over the phone, and in such a loving and reassuring way, well beyond his years, he said, in order to comfort me, "Don't be sad, Debby (which I decided he should call me, after Linnea became his "Mom", to avoid emotional conflict within him). Some day we'll be together!" Our two hearts used to be so simpatico, during those early years, even after we were apart for quite a while. I think that the last time the two of us talked on the phone he was in high school, and he described to me what his very first kiss with a girl had been like, summing that up with a very enthusiastic "WOW!". I always loved his openness, and enthusiasm, but those seem to be the very things that, in college, he was advised to seriously tamp down, and that difference in him, when we reconnected earlier this year, for several emails, was disappointing, and sad, to me. I miss how he used to be, but it's his life and his choice. He's a grown man now. I can't remember when I last saw Jim. It was probably right after I moved out of the townhouse, after transferring Jay's custody to him and Linnea, which was 36 years ago. Jim would often be on the phone with Jay and I, as we talked together as Jay was growing up, but he was not really saying much of anything; mostly just listening to our discussions. I always wondered if he was monitoring our calls then, perhaps out of concern about what I might say to Jay, especially as he got older, since I know alot about Jim that I doubt Jay would have ever been told about, or probably Linnea either. Sometimes people have a stake in keeping their truth hidden, so they can behave however they want to during their life but (think that they will) not be accountable for it. But, God knows ALL of it, and, scripture says "For there is nothing hidden that shall not be disclosed, nor anything secret that shall not be known and come out into the open" (Luke 8:17). Linnea was the last one, of these three, that I saw in person, but that was many years ago. She was back in the Omaha area briefly and came by my loft-style apartment in the Old Market that evening, for a quick visit while she took me to dinner. That was sometime around 2001 making it around 18 years since I last saw her. I think that my relinquishment of them all surprised them. I have always wanted the best for them; but I don't want them in my life, now, unless that is best for me; and when they began to change, toward me, that changed, for me.

When she took me out to eat, in an almost empty restaurant which was not really busy at all (because it was late in the evening), that was on the same block as my apartment in the Old Market, Linnea actually snapped at me as I bantered back and forth with the waiter a bit. She chastised me for that which in every way was totally out of line for her to do to me! Right then and there, in front of our waiter. I was stunned! She had never spoken to me in that way, that harshly, not even all those years ago when she got frustrated with me for micromanaging how to bathe Jay as a baby. Although I 'stuffed it', at the time, out of shock, and my love for her, it made me really angry, because, I felt that she was not only showing me great disrespect, but chose to do so with the waiter standing there, seeing her treat me this way. I wasn't her child! Speaking of which, even worse to me, about this drastic change in her toward me, now, I had given this woman the most precious gift that anyone had likely ever given her in her life which was MY SON, and I felt that this at the very least should have inspired, or encouraged, her to treat me with respect and even deference, always, but especially out in public. I went back to speak to the waiter, after that happened with her, and neither of us felt there was anything, at all, going on between the two of us, that should have set her off, like that. She had even been acting very different, when she had first arrived, at my apartment, before we even went to the restaurant. While I was as excited to see her, and as loving toward her, as always, Linnea was aloof, and dour, which wasn't like her! I wondered what was going on with her, to cause such a big, and sudden, change in how she behaved, toward me. She'd always been gracious, before.

When she had arrived at my apartment, I hugged her, and was so happy to see her! She stood there stiffly not hugging me back, as if she were impatiently tolerating my genuine affection for her. She seemed moody, and irritable, and in deciding to go out to the restaurant she had said, very emphatically, "I NEED A DRINK!" This just wasn't like HER at all! It was concerning to me. She didn't apologize, or explain herself, so I had no idea what was going on with her. Because I felt she disrespected me, and that is a real relationship ruiner, for me, that I just don't tolerate, I really pulled away from her, after that, and we grew apart. I did wonder, at the time, though, if she was yet another one who had been tainted to turn toxic toward me, by interactions with my parents. I was aware, from photos my mother sent me, of Jay being sent to visit my parents, in North Carolina, at different times, although Linnea never really talked about his doing that, with me. My parents have a very subtle way of poisoning people's minds and hearts, toward me, to exonerate themselves, and to avoid accountability, and consequences, for what is actually their own bad behavior. It is a whole syndrome, with them. I stayed with an aunt once, and we had a lovely visit, until she called my mother, to let her know how happy she was, that I was with her! Following that phone call, my aunt totally changed toward me, which then caused me to freeze up, with her, as it was obvious that my mother had tainted her, toward me, somehow, to cause this drastic change, in her demeanor, toward me. Although I know that my mother does this, to sabotage my relationships with the people that I care about, to somehow make herself end up looking better to them in the process I don't know how to stop her from doing it or counteract it.

Even when I have been right there, seeing her do it, in the past, since she has done this to me throughout my life, she is so good at it that she gets people to fall right into this manipulation of hers. She is a narcissist. What she is doing is called 'smoke screening'. If she can keep people focused on me, in a negative way, which she does, very subtly, she can, and does, keep those same people from picking up on what she knows, in her heart, is really wrong with her. So, she keeps getting away with pulling this crap, and she gets people 'on her side' by causing them to become upset with me, on her behalf. She punishes me, by alienating these others toward me, that should not even be involved in it, but are so gullible. Because both my parents know that I will not take their crap, and that I reject them because of it, putting and keeping them out of my life, they try, and succeed, to turn people against me, in their favor. My mother, especially, likes to play the victim, but she is actually the vicitimizer, of me. This bad behavior, by them, though, is actually due to their own guilty conscience, which is underneath this facade, people seem to buy into. They are retaliating on me, for being honest, and for avoiding their toxic games being played on me, directly, anymore, by keeping them out of my life. A counselor could explain this dysfunctional crap, better than I have, but the bottom line is that these people have continually damaged my life, in this way, every time they get another innocent person to take them at face value, rather than notice how they themselves are having a change of heart toward me, under the influence of all this. They weren't feeling this way toward me, before they were emotionally manipulated by these people! In any case, I couldn't continue to keep Linnea closely involved, in my life, if she were going to be that way with my mother, who I need to keep completely out of my life. The same goes for my son, Jay. I don't pressure them in any way to not be involved closely with her, because they have a right to make their relationship choices just as much as I do. I simply back off, from them, now, as well, and leave them all to their relationships with one another. I choose to go on with my own life without those bonds, then, because it is better, and healthier, and happier, for me. I have had to leave all of it, in God's hands, knowing that what I have been describing, about my family, will all be exposed by the Lord, one day, and that both of my parents will be held accountable for all that they have done to make me their scapegoat.

Sometimes, my mother would tell me things that apparently Linnea had confided in her, such as her being concerned about Jim staying out late for "his regular card games". This was the first I had heard of that. I was very concerned, though, hearing this, although I never told her why, as I hoped that this was nothing, compared to what it had been, when I lived with Jim in Biloxi. What I immediately thought about was my own memory of Jim playing that card game with two other women, the night of his birthday, at his apartment, for condoms, as the prize. I had been napping in the adjoining room, in the bed that Jim and I shared, since I was his live-in girlfriend, and I woke to walk in on this going on. So, when I heard "card games", regarding Jim, I felt very anxious, on Linnea's behalf, right away. She was such a different woman, from me, that I thought surely she would bring out the better side of Jim's dual Gemini nature that I had also seen and loved, when we had first dated, but be able to keep that side of him in the forefront, which I hadn't been able to do, with him. After all, Jim had married me only because of our pregnancy, but he had married Linnea because he loved her, and had wanted to. I did not ever think that Jim had only married her in order to have Jay's custody transferred to him, with a ready caregiver available for his child, in Linnea. If I had any concerns at all about that, because I had made transferring Jay's custody to him conditional on him marrying this woman that he was involved with, those were put to rest, after I saw photos, online, of Jim and Linnea, on a beach, in Hawaii, I think it was, renewing their wedding vows, to one another, years later. What that said to me was that Jim loved her, wanted her, and gladly married her. Even twice!

My heart is broken, from what has happened to my life, due to the people that have brought so much crap into it, because of their selfishness (which is the very root, of sinfulness). I honestly cannot see how it could ever even be healed on this side of Heaven, but I know that Heaven is on the horizon, for me, at some point, and I am content to focus on what God is doing, in, and through, my life, now, in this present moment (which is the only one, that any of us can live in), and to wait patiently, and live with purposefulness. Even with my truly broken heart, my joy that people see is not fake by any means. "The joy of the Lord is my strength!" (God's Word is true, and I take God at His Word!) Every day, I start my day standing before God praising Him, and I end every day in this very same way. I talk to Him, all throughout the day, about anything, and everything, and ask Him about things, and listen, for His answers. I laugh, because He fills me with joy! I dance, and sing, around my apartment, because I am filled with gratitude that I have survived, all that I have been through, even as well as I have, physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, after all the damage has been done. Some times it has been easier than others and some times it has been a Pilgrim's Progress*** that, for me, has been more like my taking two steps forward and one step back. Still, I am moving forward! I'm really not on this planet to be loved by others. I am here to bring glory to God, by bringing His Love to others, if and when I can. Some days, it is a show of my faith in Him that I am even willing to simply get out of bed, at all, to face the day, by just putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, because I know, and I trust, that no matter what has happened, or not happened, God is always with me.

People have often said to me, when they learn more about my life story, that it is amazing that I never committed suicide or became an alcoholic or drug addict, from what had to be enormous emotional pain that I felt from these things that I have been through. They always look shocked when they first find out what my life has been like, because, people do tell me all the time that I look like someone who has lived a very easy life, without having had any real problems to deal with, or weigh me down, to cause me to become a cynical, jaded, cold, or cruel, person. Once, a female co-worker who was raising two teenage boys, as a single mother, and worked in retail sales with me, at the mall, told me why she had taken an immediate dislike to me, and been so mean to me, from the very first day that I worked there, which I had always wondered about as I was suffering through it, from her. She explained that she was hurting, from her own life, and I came onto the scene, looking so happy, like I did not have any problems or had never suffered, like she had. I told her that I don't look like someone carrying around heavy emotional burdens because God's Word tells me that I am to "cast all my cares on Him" (1 Peter 5:7), and that I've had to do that, in order for them not to have completely broken me, as a person; because they have been too much for me. They very likely would have been the death of me in some form or fashion, if I had not given them to God. I gave her just a few examples of the things I have had to live through, in my life, and she was totally shocked! She had not thought that I, this happy-seeming lady that she worked with, had been through anything, like what I shared with her that day, especially not things as bad as those were, such as my being raped, by a stranger. As for drinking, my dating days with Jim included alot of that, although I did not stay constantly drunk, by any means. He had given me alcohol to drink, back then, mostly to help me relax, while he was working with me, through our lovemaking, to get me past my frigidity from my rape sexual trauma. Before that time, I had really only had those drinks that my cousin had given me, prior to rupturing my hymen, causing me to marry him because I was then 'damaged goods'. Except for a short span of time, when I was a nightclub dancer (out of all those years, considering that we were allowed to drink alcohol any time, in those clubs, and I had usually worked 6 nights a week), there wasn't really any other alcohol use or other escapist behaviors by me, throughout my lifetime. In fact, because I am so health conscious, I am aware of the health risks, from all those things, and avoid them. I don't even smoke cigarettes, which is a form of drug addiction, to nicotine. I even filter my water through a PUR pitcher! I will need to cover my short and very exclusive foray into prositution though, and the reasons behind that (none of which were good enough, because it so grieved the Holy Spirit, who lives within me), in a future post in this Blog.

* Blessed Assurance
   a hymn by Fanny Crosby

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine
O what a foretaste of glory divine
Heir of salvation, purchase of God
Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood
Perfect submission, all is at rest
I in my Savior am happy and blessed
Watching and waiting, looking above
Filled with His goodness, lost in His love
This is my story, this is my song
Praising my Savior all the day long
This is my story, this is my song
Praising my Savior all the day long . . . .

** Failure To Thrive  (FTT)  ". . . factors that may lead to failure to thrive: Emotional deprivation as a result of parental withdrawal, rejection or hostility. . . . If psychosocial factors are involved, treatment should include improving the family dynamics and living conditions. Parental attitudes and behavior may contribute to a child's problems and need to be examined." (Source: https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/health/conditions-and-diseases/failure-to-thrive )

*** The Pilgrim's Progress. (1678, 1684) A religious allegory by the seventeenth-century English author John Bunyan. Christian, the central character, journeys from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. Along the way he faces many obstacles, including the Slough of Despond.