A Miracle: My Children Were Fed

When I was a young mother, I suffered from horrible migraines. They left me dizzy, sick to the stomach, and unable to see. I had applied to the government for disability, but they denied me. I worried about how I would care for my children when one of them would strike me.

Then one day, one of them hit me hard. I wasn’t able to balance myself enough to move, and I was unable to see. I lay on the floor of my bedroom, not knowing what to do.

I cried out to my God for help.

I stayed there praying for about an hour.

Then my oldest boy came upstairs to see me. He was about five years old.

I told him that I knew how hungry he must be, and to be patient; at some point I should be able to go back down stairs to feed everyone.

He told me not to worry, and that he went ahead and fed everyone.

I was dumbfounded.

“With what?” I asked him. I thought maybe he had given everyone some cereal or crackers, though I balked at the thought of him climbing up that high without supervision to get them. They were stored in the upper cabinets far out of their reach.

But what he did give them astounded me even further.

“Oh,” he said, as if it was no big deal, ”I made them pizza.”

“What?! How did they manage to eat it frozen?” (My mind was still trying to wrap around the thought that my son was able to dig through the big flat freezer to find one, much less that he would think to try and eat it.)

“I put it in the oven just like you do, and cooked it for them.”

“But how? You don’t know how to work the oven yet!”

“Yes I do. I watched how you did it, and I did what you did.”

I was floored.

“Is there any left?”

“No,” he said. “We ate it all.”

He must have cooked it well if everyone ate it.

Then I realized; God had answered my prayer in a way I had never anticipated.

This was the child that had a disability; he had been diagnosed with severe Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder and Oppositional Defiance Disorder, as well as some learning disorders. In my son’s case, these were fancy names for some nasty demons, though I did not come to this realization for some years yet. But for this child to behave as he did, was a miracle in itself. He was the one I would worry over; his impulsivity had gotten him into trouble many times before. For him to behave so responsibly and helpful, was quite unexpected. He had even managed to turn the oven off when he was done cooking the pizza!

After this incident, I no longer wondered if I should give up my children to Child Protective Services. God was telling me to keep them, and I knew then that He would indeed provide the way for us.

In the end, He did even better than that; he removed the migraines from me!

During Hanukkah, we recall the miracles that Christ has done in our lives. This was one of them.

May the Lord Jesus Christ bless you greatly and give you His peace!

C. Dunamis

The Best Way To Raise A Child

Another dream…

This time I was a young woman, newly married.

My parents had raised me with simple Christian values, but they never felt the need for us to go to a church, read the bible, or pray. And that was fine with me as well, for I could see that we were doing o.k. on our own.

There were some things that I had strong beliefs in,
and one of them was how a child should be raised.

When I became a mother of a beautiful baby girl,
I spent as much time as I could with her,
Convinced that this was the way to bring them up successfully. My husband, her father, was away busy working, and did not have much time to spend with us. But every little lesson she learned, I was there beside her.

I realized, when she was around a year or so,
That I should not just give her everything she wanted,
For then she would end up a spoiled brat.

So there were times when I told her no, for example when she wanted to open a certain cupboard door, and it would be dangerous for her health and safety if she did so.

At first she cried, and showed her temper,
But soon moved on to other explorations.

She grew up to be a beautiful and caring girl, whom I loved greatly.

I had a second baby girl, when my first was almost eight, and I brought her up in the same manner as I did the first.
She also grew up to be a loving, caring, and giving girl. For this reason, she was one I was also very close to, all of my life.

I had another baby girl about five years after the last one, and began raising her up as I had the first two.
After she was a few years old, I realized, that for some reason, she was slightly less thankful for something that would be given to her, than her older sisters had been. But I brushed this off as simply being a quirk of her personality. (She was more reserved in other ways as well.) But as she reached the older teenage years, she became wild and rebellious, which would hurt me greatly.

One day, when she was almost eighteen, (and incredibly beautiful with her model slim body and gorgeous waist length blonde hair,) she stood there, in front of her bedroom doorway. I had just gotten done refinishing her bedroom to the way she had wanted it done. I asked her, how she liked it, hoping this would make her thankful, for not even her sisters had been given such a makeover for their rooms.

“Yes,” she said, “it’s great. Perfect.” But then she gave a long pause, as if she was still considering it. “Well, almost. There’s just one thing still wrong with it.”

“What is that?” I asked her, eager to make the change.

“You’re in it.”

With that, she pulled a lit cigarette from behind her back, pulled a big drag from it, and then blew the smoke right into my face.

I gasped in shock.

Pain was then my response, pain that went so very, very deep. It felt like my heart was actually breaking, and then shriveling up inside. I did not know how to cope with such pain. I was immobilized.

How could my daughter do this to me? She knew she was not to smoke at all in the house. She knew that I was very allergic to the cigarette smoke. My eyes and lungs were already beginning to swell up.

I told her that I was not leaving, for this was my house, and if she really wanted to get away from me, then she should be the one to leave. I also told her that if she left like this, I would never bother her or be a part of her life again. It would be as if she was dead to me.

I had hoped that she would back down at this, but she acted like she was quite happy with it.

She packed up her stuff, and left me with great excitement, and as I watched her leave, I noted that she didn’t even look back once.

It took some time for me to recover from what she had done. In essence, she really did become dead to me. I was also resolved to have it remain this way in the future, for I felt I could not survive another blow to my heart like that one.

Several years after my third child was born, I had another baby, also a girl, and knew it would be my last. (I was old at this time, and was quite surprised at the news, for I had thought that my child bearing years were over.) This baby was doted on by my first two girls, as well as me. But I made sure she was still brought up like the first two had been.

She turned out fine as well, thought she had a way of trying to make sure that everything and everyone in the family was doing o.k..

The third (dead) child would call and talk to her sisters, but ignore me. When my girls then went to tell me how she was doing, I told them that to me she no longer exists, and to keep their news about her to themselves, and to not talk to me about it. If they disobeyed me and talked about her, I would ignore what they said and leave the room.

I supported the first two girls in whatever they wanted to do with their lives, and when they decided to leave the nest, I gave them my full blessing, and still supported them in making their own nest, when they requested my help or my opinion. I remained close to my first two girls, and even to my youngest one.

At one point, my girls told me that their (dead) sister wanted to get in touch with me, for she was getting married and wanted me to go to her wedding. I told them no, and that I didn’t want to hear about it. I no longer knew this person they were talking about. She had been dead to me for so many years now, and would remain so.

My daughters tried to get me to change my mind, but I refused.

More years passed, and at one point, while my youngest daughter and I we were walking around in a big mall, I seen my two older daughters coming towards us, with their arms linked around their other sister, the one still dead to me.

My first thought was ‘So…she’s still alive then,’ but I quickly shifted my eyes to look away from her. Even if she had somehow survived all those years, she was still dead to me.

I could tell that my older girls had hoped for a reconciliation, and probably figured that if I could just actually see her, then I would relent. But they were wrong. I knew the statistics, I had heard the heart-wrenching accounts of the other mothers who had to deal with their wayward, wild children. These kids would say they were sorry, but still go back out and return to the crappy behavior and actions that they had before. Why would I think that my child would be any different from them? There was no way I would ever go through that kind of pain with that child again. The girl she had once been to me had died, and someone else now occupied her body.

A few years after that, my girls told me she was pregnant with her first child. “Mom, they pleaded with me, “Don’t you want to see your own grandchildren?”

“Sure,” I replied. “But that woman’s children would not be my grandchildren.”

They gave up trying to get me to go see them, when they realized I still wanted nothing to do with her.

When my own children had children of their own, I would be the doting grandmother, and shower their kids with attention and presents. Their own children were respective and loving towards me, so caring for them was easy to do and caused me no pain.

But I knew that no matter what, that other woman and her family, would remain dead to me till the day I died.

 

I then woke up from the dream, with tears on my face.

*

I wondered, as I lay there in bed, still feeling the inner pain, coldness, and fear that controlled this mother, just what was the best way to raise a child.

It was clear, that simply spending time with the child, and raising the child myself, (instead of handing them over to the overflowing nurseries and then into the public school systems,) would not prevent such wild behavior.

When I went to the Lord about it, He told me that spending the time with the child was still of primary importance, but without an intimate one-on-one relationship with HIM, there would still be problems of this kind. When a mother spends that much time with her child, the parent can sense RIGHT AWAY when something is wrong, and can then petition the problem to Me, and then cast the demon away from the child. (This is done through My Word and through prayer to Me.) But if the parent doesn’t even believe that evil spirits exist, and can try to attack their children, (or of course themselves,) then there is much less hope of fighting off satan’s attacks.

It made me realize, how important a Christian’s spiritual viewpoint is. If they do not believe in evil spirits being able to affect them, then it is almost impossible for them to see some of the person’s negative and hurtful behavior as being separate from the person themselves. One then tends to take it all personally, as an attack on them. And they also might not have much hope of real heart-felt change. What they don’t realize, is that demons can set up and execute the attacks. In this case, the attacks were (at least,) on both the mother and the daughter. But for the most part, the heart of that person themselves, is still yearning for love and reconciliation with their family. And with Jesus, hearts and behavior CAN be changed!

*

“But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible.”
(Matthew 19:26, KJV)

“The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction. My son, hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother: For they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck.” (Proverbs 1:7-9)

“Even a child is known by his doings, whether his work be pure, and whether it be right.” (Proverbs 20:11)

“Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.” (Proverbs 16:18, KJV)

“Now these are the commandments, the statutes, and the judgments, which the Lord your God commanded to teach you, that ye might do them in the land whither ye go to possess it: That thou mightest fear the Lord thy God, to keep all his statutes and his commandments, which I command thee, thou, and thy son, and thy son’s son, all the days of thy life; and that thy days may be prolonged. Hear therefore, O Israel, and observe to do it; that it may be well with thee, and that ye may increase mightily, as the Lord God of thy fathers hath promised thee, in the land that floweth with milk and honey. Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord: And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates. (Deuteronomy 6:1-9, KJV)

“And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:32, KJV)

* * * *

Trying To Reach Heaven

A Dream…  (Journal entry recorded in my Bible, from 1995)

I am trying to reach heaven, but the pathway, the gate, is too narrow. I could not get through. I thought I’d be o.k., but I was not.

As I stood there at the gate, I seen many, many babies.

There were those that were full of joy and life, kicking, cooing, gurgling, with their energy giving off a form of light that seemed to glow from within them.

But many of the babies had wasted away and died. Their forms were still and lifeless, their skin held a dull almost grey color to it, and their eyes were empty, starring off into nothing. You could guess as to how long they had been dead, by the amount of decay that had already taken place in their bodies. There was no light whatsoever coming from them any more.

Some were still in different stages of dying. I could see the ones that were undecided; they looked as if they were dead, but there was hope that shone out from around them. Some were crying out for help, their cries piercing my heart from their shrill intensity of need. I longed to reach out to hold them and help them, but I knew I could not, for I sensed they were in a different dimension from mine.   

I cried and cried for them, as I watched them float by. I asked not to be one of those that did not make it. I thought of my children, and cried more. I begged God not to have me or my family be amongst those that did not make it. I asked Him how not to be one of them. I asked Him how I could get through the narrow pathway.

I then sensed that each person was different; they had to give up of themselves, their greatest thing they loved, in order to steer through it. You needed the help of those who had gone before you. Without them you lost your knowledge of how to get through the pathway to heaven, and you could no longer see the forces of darkness in your way. These people looked and sounded normal, but when you were on the right path, you seen through them, and this bothers them, so they nag and attack you to pull you off the path. Once you are off this path, you must submit to the darkness.

I seen my littlest child look to me in her innocence, and she did not see the distinction between the two realities/dimensions. To her, (for her,) they were one, and the dark forces could not touch her. But SOON she looked to me, watched me, my facial expressions, to see if she should feel fear or panic, and in this way lost her natural born ability to “follow the path.” I tried to be like her, but could not be.

I then woke up from the dream.

What is the greatest thing I loved in this world? My free time; my alone time. Time, when I can do what I want, and feed my will as I wish. My job has stopped a large portion of this time, yet the remaining time left is needed, the lord is asking for it, and in my sin, I’m hedging against it. I pray the Lord will give me His heart, to want to seek His Will, instead of mine…

*

Note: I believe that ‘those that had gone before’, were those people from the Bible, and the believers that have carried the faith upon the earth from generation to generation. The ‘natural born ability to “follow the path”‘, refers to the innocence that is within each newborn child. (They are too young to understand evil, or recognize it for what it is at that age.) 

*

Matthew 7:13-14, 21, 7-8 KJV

Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.
Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:
For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.