One Day at a Time Sweet Jesus, that is all I ask of You.

March 21, 2012 I have had a long day but what an evening Face book is incredible. I spent several hours this evening talking on Face book with my cousins. They have come up with the most incredible pictures of our family. I’ve seen pictures of my family that I never knew existed. My mother taught me the meaning of pictures as a beautiful keepsake. She had hundreds of pictures of our immediate family, cousins, aunts, uncles, and our grandparents. As a child I looked at these pictures over the years, and came to understand what her family meant to her. When I was younger, I thought 60 years was an incredibly long period of time. Now, I realize 60 years is just a blink of an eye. Most of my aunts and uncles have passed away. Almost entire generation. But what they left behind- the memories, the laughs, the tears, the love will always be etched in the minds of the generation that still remains, and the generations to come. When my parent’s house was cleaned out after my father died, the pictures were lost to someone who may have picked up the boxes, not sure of what to do with them. I am hoping whoever may have them realizes what a treasure they are and keeps them in a safe place, or returns them to the family. I am scheduled to talk to the surgeon regarding the results of the last test and having surgery. Looks like the surgery will be late next week but has not been confirmed yet. I will keep you posted. Easter is right around the corner. I always thought that people whole died around the holidays were sent a special invitation to celebrate with the Lord. Imagine being in heaven at Christmas. Or, being in heaven on Easter Sunday. My mother and older brother died in April, 6 years apart. The Easter Season holds a special meaning for me. First, there is Lent. This is a time when people give up something for forty days in honor of the Lord. Each year I choose to give up watching television and drinking coffee. This year I added playing the Texas lottery. I have a friend in San Antonio who has a husband who drinks on a daily basis. During Lent, this man gives up his alcohol. For forty day and forty nights there lives are peaceful, quiet and quiet. I found out over the years that he is really a very nice person when he is not drinking. He becomes a great father, grandfather, and husband. Lent is the only time of the year that his relatives invite him to visit because it is the only time of the year this guy is sane. I want to thank Mallory for the email she sent after reading my blog. Thank you for keeping me in your prayers. Check you email for an email from me. I slept peacefully last night. The babies were once again tucked in right next to me. The weather is still cool here. Makes for great sleeping weather. About several years ago, I had elective surgery during a summer break from school. I chose to stay at a friend’s house after the surgery to recover. For several days she looked after me. I slept most of the time. She would constantly check on me, bring me my medication, help me to the restroom, etc. While I was there , she told me about her son who had died while serving as a missionary in Africa. I did not know this young man. I had never met him The government of the country where he died, refused to release his body to the organization he was working with, leaving my friend in limbo. Once his body was returned to her, she had planned to bury him next to his father. All she wanted was a sign from him that he was alright and in a better place. We talked for a while, then I went to rest, and she went to the grocery store. Later that evening, I awoke to have dinner with her and watch television. As we were eating, I asked her,”Who was the man I saw earlier today?” She looked at me and said there was no one else in the house but us. I told her that I had seen a young man with brown hair parted in the middle, he had a mustache, he wall tall and thin. He wore blue jeans, and a white dress shirt and wore a whit jacket. . I saw him sitting in the chair across the room where I slept. He was looking at me. He never said a word. He looked relaxed and peaceful. When I told her this, she got up from the table to find a picture of her son. When she showed me the picture, I told her, “That’s him. That’s the young man I saw.” She sat for a long time looking at his picture, then looking at me. She knew I had never seen a picture of him before, yet I described him to her. . Then, I realized what happened. I know this sounds crazy to some people but...... He let his mother know through showing himself to me, that he was at peace. I have never had this happen to me before or since this event. I found out that day what a believer in Jesus my friend was by not throwing me out of her house because of my experience. She and I knew it was a sign from God. I can still pictures him in my mind sitting in the chair looking at me. I was never afraid of him. He was at peace. I was scared because I had this experience. I had a hard time dealing with it for some time after that. I spoke to other friends and a pastor who assured me that I was not crazy. My friend isolated herself from other after her son’s death. The pastor believed he was trying to tell her he was at peace but there was no one around her to channel this information through. When I showed up at their home, he used me to get the message to her. Other people I talked to said they had been contacted in various ways by family members and close friends who died and wanted to get a message to them that they were ok. His body was never returned to her. The government reported that he was buried in their country. They said they would send a copy of the death certificate. They never did. My friend and her son, however, are at peace. He is with the Lord. She will eventually be with him. I hope to meet him in person in the Lord’s house to tell him how important his message to his mother was to her. I think he already know. But I want to let him know how important his message was to me. From the book, My Glimpse of Eternity by Betty Malz: “The transition was serene and peaceful. I was walking up a beautiful green hill. It was steep, but my leg motion was effortless and a deep ecstasy flooded my body. I looked down. I seemed to be barefoot, but the complete outer shape of my body was a blur and colorless. Yet I was walking on grass, the most vivid shade of green I had ever seen. Each blade was perhaps one inch long, the texture like fine velvet; every blade was alive and moving. As the bottoms of my feet touched the grass, something alive in the grass was transmitted up through my whole body with each step I took. Can this be death? “ I wondered.