Shadow Puppets

The way that the shadows played under the door, I could see that my favorite tree was gracefully dancing in the wind. The sunlight shot like a laser beam into the closet. “Hey, lets play shadow puppets.” I whispered to my little brother. “Okay,” he said.

This time, his lips only turned a small shade of blue. My brother faced his head towards me and I made myself look into his eyes, holding my own grief so I could contain his. I remember looking at my mother and wondering if this time was it, would she kill him? She would always stop -before she would suffocate him.

Mom had bad days. Her children were the face of every single person that day that had hurt her, that had let her down, a family member, an argument with my Dad. My brother and I never knew when our turn was going to be for mom to release her anger. I always wondered when it would begin. Would we be able to have the comfort of the closet, would we be able to see the closet this time around? That was always my hope. Mom would always begin with me. I would lay down on the sofa and she would put a pillow over my face. She would then sit on top of me and she proceeded to suffocate me. I always turned my head to the wall facing away because I knew that my little brother was there in the hallway. I never wanted him to see my face. I never wanted him to see the fear and sometimes even the hope – that maybe I would die.

I remember times I would stop breathing and a comfort would come over me, it was this silence but there was also a comfort and when that comfort would come, all of a sudden my mother would get off of me and I would have to stand in the hallway as my little brother would walk past me with tears in his eyes. That was one thing about my brothers and I; if we cried, we would never make noise, tears would just come from our eyes and that’s how we learned how to cry – we learned to cry by making no noise – we knew as children that if there was ever a noise to escape us, the stakes were higher.

When the abuse would be over mom would make my brother and I go sit inside of the closet in the same room that the couch was. I wondered if my brother was experiencing the same comfort that I had when I would see him begin to lose consciousness – that comforting peace when his lips would turn a different color. I wondered if maybe he would be able to leave this life and be safe away from her.

For the first few times, my brother and I would cry a little bit in the closet, but then, I wanted to make it a happier environment for him. I thought of some games that we liked to play and having just the light from underneath the door, it was enough light to be able to play shadow puppets. We never knew how much time had passed by. I would try and tell the time by the way that the shadows of the sun off of the leaves changed their position on the rug. I was learning about the sun in science and I had learned that during certain times of the day, the sun moves. There were a few times when we would meet dusk as Mom would unlock the closet door. Mom wouldn’t talk to us for a day after and my brother and I never once discussed it. Perhaps because we had so much time in the closet that we didn’t really have to speak and to speak would be an acknowledgment of each others reality. 

Years of abuse would happen before the above incidents and after the above incidents.

Being the only female out of four brothers, looking back, I was naturally inclined to be a mother like protector over my brothers. From a young age, cooking, cleaning, taking care of my brothers when my mom was not able to, became important to me. I wanted them to have some kind of normalcy, the normalcy I would see at my friends house when the mom and the daughter would be playing with the baby in the kitchen, when the brother and the sister were being silly and fighting, when the mom and the dad would just hug the kids because. Our parents weren’t able to give us what they didn’t have themselves. My dad was an alcoholic and my mother had major depression. We were all living daily, playing Russian roulette with each other, knowing that my mother and my dad were the ones that held the guns and we never knew when the barrel would face us.

Being able to maintain a clean home, a cooked meal, laundry that was folded and an ear for them to listen to became my goal. By the age of 10 I knew how to keep a clean home, cook, keep up with my studies and try to function the best that I possibly could.  I learned how to live life without feeling. I learned that as long as I could make everyone around me happy, I would have peace, and that was a terribly disoriented survival method that I learned when I was a child. If I could just please my mom, maybe she would not hold the dinner away from my brothers and I that I made. If I could just make my dad happy, maybe he would not stay out at the bar and he would come home and be with us so maybe mom would be happier.

My brothers and I never spoke about the abuse in our family to each other.

I knew the way that she was treating us was not right, and at the same time, I knew that she had to be ill in her mind to do what it is that she was doing to us and so I decided to protect her, instead of turning her in – and in protecting her over time, I was able to get my brothers away from my mother.

This is the first time ink has touched paper about this time in my life.

Writing this has been difficult because I have never confronted this time in my life as I have in this blog. I never come back to this place, but when God knocks on your door and He tells you that it’s time and you still wait years, I had to ask myself why. I want to be obedient to God, He is so good to me, why was I struggling so much for? In prayer, I met my mother, not in a physical way, but in a spiritual way, she told me that it was okay to share what happened and to walk in Faith as I have my entire life, even as a child. And I wanted her blessing to move forward – to speak about my childhood.

I feel that I need to end this blog by asking you to please not hate my mother. Because I love her. Living with an alcoholic for a father and a mother who had severe posttraumatic stress disorder and major depression has made me a very empathetic person towards people. Because I know that God never planned His child’s life to go the way that my mothers life went. And I know that God never wanted me to almost meet my death several times by the woman He chose to be my mother. And so behind every person that is angry, behind every person that struggles in life, I see God in them even more and I want to be closer for them to see the beauty that God sees in them when they cannot see it in themselves.

My blog is named Reality Meets Faith because when your reality meets Faith, there is nothing that cannot be done. There is nothing that cannot be turned around. I am a living witness that you can go through hell and back several times and still come out standing by God’s side, knowing that He was there with you all along.

Journey to Truth

Driving down the road, I looked out the window to my right. Tall homes, a few stories high. Beautiful landscaping. Yellow daffodils, fuchsia colored azalea bushes and Pink Lady’s Slippers gracing the edging of a potted flower. A gentle breeze pushed a hidden wind chime to break the deafening silence of that car ride. Looking forward again I saw the social worker put her blinker on and she turned left. We turned into the driveway of a beautiful home.

Looking at the car door handle, I put three fingers through the handle as I pushed the car door open. Walking up to the front door, a middle-age woman in her 30s, opened the door. She was petite with blond hair and blue eyes.

I smiled at her, she smiled at me and invited me in. We walked through a small sitting room that led into a dining room with a long mahogany table that had a white lace cloth over the top.

All three of us spoke briefly in the dining room and then the social worker said goodbye.

Jayne brought me upstairs and showed me where my bedroom would be. In the bedroom was a vintage antique white bedroom set and a beautiful writing desk.The writing desk was my favorite piece. I put my suitcase on top of the bed and began to unpack.

As I was unpacking, I had hoped that I made the right decision, that day in school a few weeks earlier at the age of 14, when I told the school nurse that I could not live with my mother or my father due to abusive situations in both homes. I felt in that moment as I was holding a pair of jeans and a shirt that I was going to be wearing to my new school, that a floodgate of tears was going to open and that I may not stop crying. But that did not happen. I put on the solidified demeanor that I had to to get through the next moment.

As a child I learned how to not cry, I learned how to maintain my emotions, move on quickly from any situation and to deal with not dealing. You learn how to cry without crying.

Walking over to the white curtains, I ran my finger down the hem, feeling the material and appreciating the softness of the lace. The sun was shining through the intricately woven curtain, exposing just how vulnerable that the lace truly was. Looking out the window, I saw this beautiful massive tree that was in front of my window and that made me happy. Opening the window, I listened to hear that familiar sound of the wind awakening the sleepy leaves.

My bed was next to the window and the end of the bed was facing the window. I smiled at this because it reminded me of my childhood bed and when I would look out the window and sing to the stars at night. I would always crawl to the end of the bed, lay on my back, and look out the window up at the sky and as an adult, I still do that to this day to gaze at the stars (I haven’t sung to them in a long time) sitting up, I would look straight at the trees and be amazed at the sounds of the earth.

Perhaps God knew that I would need to see those stars.

“Melissa, I’m going down to the store to buy dinner, would you like to come with me?” Jayne asked. “Sure”, I said.

Getting into her car we drove through a town that my mind had not yet registered. It was beautiful with beautiful landscaping. Cape Cod offered that, that was one thing about the Cape, is that wherever you went you would find beautiful landscaping.

The sky looked like it was going to open. As Jayne pulled into the parking lot of Stop and Shop the sky did open and it began down-pouring. We ran into the store and we caught each other smiling through this crazy rain storm. In that moment, I didn’t realize how much I needed that smile, but as I sit here tonight, almost 30 years later, it was that smile that made me know Jayne was ordained by God in my life. We decided on having hamburgers on the grill, corn on the cob and potato salad.

Pulling out of the parking lot, the rain still coming down so hard, Jayne asked me if I would like to swing into her Church. I said okay.

We pulled into a humble parking lot with a humble Church that was all white. Jayne opened her door, I opened mine and we made a wild dash for the Church doors, trying to escape the heavy rain. As Jayne opened the Church door, she stepped in and I followed her. The Church was dark besides a small glowing light that was coming from by the Altar. The sound of the rain falling on the top of the Church was absolutely beautiful and still today, going into a Church when it is down pouring is a beautiful experience. I walked down the aisle to the front of the Altar with Jayne.

Jayne kneeled and then stood back up. She faced me as I faced her and she took my hands into her hands. She looked up at the Crucifix and I looked at the Crucifix and then I looked back to her. We recited the Our Father and I knew the prayer by sitting through so many AA meetings as a young child. The Hail Mary – Jayne taught me the Hail Mary. I remember looking at the statue of Our Blessed Mother Mary and smiling at Her when I had said that first Hail Mary.

In that Church, on that rainy day, at the age of 14, an unbreakable foundation was made in my spirit for the Holy Roman Catholic Church.

I was happy in my foster home, but my school situation was turning out to be like that of the other six schools that I had been in. Coming from an unstable childhood, with two unstable parents, we moved around a lot. I would make friends one school year and then six months later we were moving. I would come to make many acquaintances but I never had a long lasting friend and I was okay with that. Keeping people at an arms distance had become like breathing to me, it was normalcy. I had learned at a young age that investing in a friendship would become painful when I knew that the goodbyes were inevitable. And so throughout my life, library’s would become my best friends. I would find a book and head to a quite corner, because no matter which school I was in, there was always a library.

Over the next few weeks, Jayne would talk to me about God, Jesus, the Blessed Mother Mary, the Saints the Angels and the Holy Roman Catholic Church. I would learn how to pray the Rosary. The Rosary, the Blessed Mother Mary, was my comforting guide. My earthly mother was ill and not mentally or emotionally healthy, but here I was told that I have a Mother and She loves me. To find out that Our Blessed Mother loved me and I never gave Her a reason to love me, something changed in me that day, I didn’t have to prove myself to Her, I didn’t have to do something to make Her love me, She just loved me because She did and I had never had that before. And then She brought me to Her Son, and it was then – when I thought that there could be no love like Her Love – She walked me to Her Son and put my hand in His Hand and I have never known a Love like that to this day.

Part #3 to come.

God In Repurpose

God is present by His Essence everywhere and in all things by reason of His Immensity. (Creed of St. Athanasius; Council of Lateran, c. “Firmiter”; Vatican Council, Sess. III, c. i.) 

As I was taking laundry out of the dryer today I reached down to clean the lint tray. Having learned a trick to get the lint that stays on the side of the lint tray off, I grabbed the lint after cleaning it from the tray and used that lint to remove any remainder lint. When I first learned of this, ‘easier than using my fingers’ method, fascination is the only word I could find. God repurposed lint – to pick -up- lint. I changed out the laundry and picked up the full laundry basket to go upstairs.

Its funny as to how – at moments, when an orchestra can be heard in the most unlooked-for places. There in my own basement today, was the soft hum of the dryer, the wood furnace stove with the dying fire, the quite Radon machine fan (a surprising acknowledgement seems fit, as it captures the sound of sleep for me), the refrigerator and deep freezer on the other side of the basement all had a reflection of God in energy and energy in God – reciprocating one to One just as the Trinity imparts awareness to each soul – even sound is important to God and when you listen, God is everywhere. He truly is Omnipresent.

When He created us, He thought of every detail that we would see at every moment.

Do we realize the intensity of the meaning of the word detail?

Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence? – Psalm 139:7

God has given us trees. Thousands of different kinds of trees. Trees to look at, trees to give us shade, trees that give us fruits and nuts, trees that bloom in the Spring and die in the Autumn. The grand last prayer of a tree is the changing of health to death in the exploding colors of yellows and the passions of reds to the humbleness of brown before the first snow falls.

… then the bare trees, that in the Winter – are sillouhetted reflections over the snow covered land. God thought about the detailed death of a tree and then after that death He provides heat for warmth and fire to cook by to sustain us. We have paper to write on and the ambiance of a dancing fire on a cold Winters night by the fireplace or a bonfire on the beach to enjoy the people God has blessed us with. When the fire reaches its death, the softly glowing embers bring serenity, peace and fascination. There is life then in death.

You will make known to me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; In Your right hand there are pleasures forever. – Psalm 16:11

A simple rock, God thought about rocks. To us, we see a rock and walk by it. That rock, at one point, was part of the Earth, it is part of Gods Plan and if we truly believe God is Omnipresent then He is in everything.

The slow decline of a mountain, a rock after being tumbled by the ocean becomes sand for our toes to sink into the sand. Have you thought about the way that sand feels on your feet? God did, He thought about your enjoyment. We use rocks to decorate the fronts of homes and use them as walls, making mortar out of crushed rocks to hold our homes together. Do we think about these things and do we thank God for the detail He puts into everything for us?

Thank Our Creator by taking moments to see what He did for us in the things we see everyday but heed not enough attention to.

“But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain You, how much less this house which I have built! – 1 Kings 8:27

Chocolate Chips

Yesterday I made some chocolate chip muffins, (extra chocolate chips) and as I was putting the chocolate chips into the flour I tasted one. I’ve tasted chocolate chips, hundreds of times. I’ve never stopped and noticed in that moment what chocolate really tastes like and how God made it taste a particular way for our palate.

How many of us have had a chocolate chip cookie? A chocolate chip muffin? Just grabbed a handful of chocolate chips and tossed them into our mouth? Have you ever stopped and thought, and said, “Wow God, You know thank You for that, thank you for this wonderful taste, thank You that chocolate is so amazing and it’s celebrated throughout the world, through so many wonderful occasions.”

If chocolate chips can be forgotten about, how many other things in this life are we not thanking God for? Are we thanking Him for the beautiful sunsets and sunrises? Many of us take them for advantage.

Life is a set of moments and while we will not be able to capture every one, let’s start by doing our own part and say thank You for any and everything that you never said thank You for. It helps us to become better people, it helps us to appreciate the little things, like the smile on a child’s face, an elderly person, having so much confidence in being able to walk and witnessing that smile that they thought nobody saw – thank God for moments like that too.

Be appreciative on purpose. 

Our Priests

Our Priests are not dispensary machines.

I think as laypeople, it becomes very easy to think of our Priests as available 24/7.

It seems like it doesn’t matter if they have enjoyments and that God has given to them gifts – that He wants them to aspire.

When you see a Priest – you see Jesus – and also a human being.

May we remember the two-in-one and the one-in-two. There is a purposeful, beautiful difference.

Encourage a Priest to find time to discover and take rest in the Lord.

Broken Stones

I am amazed by these steppingstones. Started thinking about them… I saw each stone as an event in life. Some are ragged, some are cracked, some are not on the path with the others -and some have been consumed by weeds.

I then was fascinated by the tiny stones that are in between the larger ones. I started seeing that those were all of the times that we all have had little pieces break off of us and we wonder – where have these pieces gone to? We look around and we see little pieces of our life scattered everywhere and when we think about trying to recapture some of those stones – you know, the ones that look good, the ones that we remember that made us feel good, we overlook the stones that we don’t really want to think about anymore and the ones that gave us great sadness, those are the ones that we push to the side -we actually kick those ones out – and hope to kick them so far into the forest that they can never be found again. We all have that tendency don’t we? Of just picking and choosing what little parts of our life that we want to pick up and lay down?

Looking forward, not seeing more of the path I was thinking that was a nice few moments to consider the steppingstones.

I felt God tell me, you cannot see ahead of the bend,but it is much more of the same path and each one of those small stones that you were wondering about, I have collected all of those small stones. I have taken all of your brokenness, all of your fears, all of your sadness, and your happiness, your joy, your smiles, I have taken all of those and I have mixed them together to build you stronger steps that you will see will not be as ragged in the future, but I had to break you to make you who I wanted you to be.

A 12 year old Atheist

I walked into my dad’s bedroom to grab something and laying on top of his dresser was the divorce papers.  I remember looking at the paper and seeing that the divorce was final. In a way, I cannot say that I was too sad. 

The fights, the late night arguments were over.

During this time, between the ages of 12 and 13, I found some new friends in my school, people that I had already known, but a little bit of a different crowd. Hanging out and talking, I remember during one of those conversations, one of my friends asked me how everything was going and I told her about my parents divorce being finalized. She said that she was sorry and some of my other friends that were there said the same. I told them that it was fine and that I know that God had a plan. Why I said that at that age, after the way that I was feeling, I do not know, but I do know that in each one of us, whether we know it or not, whether we believe it or not, God is there and there are some things that you cannot shake, no matter how hard that you try.

It was at that defining moment that I did not realize what would happen within that conversation. My friends began to ask me that if there was a God, where was He with so many bad things happening in the world, where was He when I had asked the arguing to stop with my parents?

I remember going home that night and thinking about those questions and then thinking about my childhood. Was He really there for me?

It was that night, in my little, unknowledgeable and simple way that I said, “Well God, if you don’t love me, how can I love you? My friends are right, you can’t exist. Look at these wars in the world, look at my life. How can you be real?”

During that time, I never knew God in the close personal way that I do today. What I knew of Him was that He existed and I knew that He was the creator of the world.

I was Baptized as a Roman Catholic when I was only a few months old. My family was never active in the Church. There was only a handful of times when we would go to Church and it was only Mom and us when we would go to visit Nana.

We never spoke of Jesus in our home but I would always see a picture of Jesus hanging up. My mother always had one above her bed. I would go to my mom’s bed just to sit and to look into the eyes of Jesus. Somethings so comforting to me and something that I still do today.

When my peers said, “how can God be real, he’s not real to us, where is he?” I remember feeling very indifferent to what it is that they were saying because when I looked into the eyes of Jesus Christ, in that photo hanging above moms bed, I knew what I felt was real. Being such a tender age and being at the age that I was changing in so many different ways and dealing with some other heavy issues in my life during that time, I see were Satan was trying to trap me. Because if he can get you when you’re young, that’s where he can try and take hold of you. All that he needs is that little doubt.

But don’t we all have that?

How many of us have doubted the truth of Gods existence when things in our life went down? Everyone may not have come out and said that they were an Atheist, but some of us have. Some of our crosses were that heavy – that to even think that God could be around and not help, was nonsensical.

At the age of 15 years old, God would have it that I would walk to the front Alter of a Roman Catholic Church, one stormy afternoon. A future blog to come about the journey to Truth.

How did I come back from this? I came back from this through the Blessed Mother Mary. I will write about that at another time, in another blog. But during that time of me being a self-proclaimed Atheist, Jesus had His Eyes on me.

I never picked up a book or ever studied Atheism but in my heart I was sad to know that God left me. Even during that time, I would still always go to stare at that picture hanging above moms bed.

While I knew of the Blessed Mother Mary, I thought she was just a woman that was someone who gave birth to a little boy and that little boy was really important and that’s all that I knew of our Blessed Mother at that time.

I went to Confession when I was in my 20s and I remember my Confession to the Priest about me being an Atheist for several years. What I learned is this is when most people fall in life, they fall in their teenage years because this is where they are most susceptible. And this is where the beautiful innocence of children can be had.

Almost always, the influence is done by our peers. In many other cases, it is because of a violation by an adult. I had my peers on one side talking in my ear and on the other side – an abusive home.

I have been wanting to write about this for so many years and as of late, God has been working on my heart about this.

When I found myself having a hard time writing about this, I went into prayer. I asked God, “why am I having a hard time writing about this? “God told my heart, “because you lack humility. ”

I was very taken aback by Gods Response. When I spent time in prayer with Him, in front of the Blessed Sacrament, what I discovered was this about myself, is that because I live, in a way, a public ministry life that spreads the word of Jesus Christ, Blessed Mother Mary, the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church – how would people look at me if I did come out and say that for several years as a child, I was an Atheist?

My husband knew, my children knew about this, I was honest with them because I wanted to let them know, that listen, when you’re in school, don’t be surprised if things start to happen – if you start to feel a certain way about God, come to mom and dad, but always, go to Jesus Christ – into a dialogue with Him so you can keep your mind and your heart set and straight in His Truths.

I sat down, opened my laptop and here is the end result.

If it is somebody who is struggling and thinking, how can I go back to God when I denied Him? Am I even worthy anymore? I was there before and I know how that feels and I can only tell you this, go to Confession, go in front of the Blessed Sacrament.

Know that you’ve been forgiven and live in Him today.

Everything in life is a stepping stone to bring us closer to Jesus.

Possibilities

A weed is but an unloved flower. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox

As a child, dandelions to me, were smiles in my back yard. If I could have put googly eyes on them, I would have had a backyard full of friends.

I remember going for walks and seeing people cut down a yard full of them and I thought, if those were roses, that probably would’ve never happened. 

As an adult, finding one always was and still is special.

When my husband and I moved to New Hampshire in 2015, the day of our closing, I was in the backyard with Joey of our new home, thanking God for His blessing and as I looked down, there was one below my feet.

I plucked it from the ground and I did what I have done 100 times, said a prayer, and asked Jesus, with each little ‘seed’ to carry it and let blessings be created where those delicate white wisps will land.

Everything in life, can be made into a prayer. When you see Jesus in everything, prayer becomes your second language, a natural way of seeing life.

While I will never know, in this earthly life, where every single one of those little white wisps went to, I do know that God knows exactly how many of those little white wisps were on each one of those dandelions.

So if you ever see one, maybe take a different look at it, try and look at life in a different way and see what happens, the slow process of change of your heart and mind. Ask God to help you to see moments the way that He saw them when He created each living thing on our Earth.

A Little Miracle In Maine

“The earth laughs in flowers.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

When one opens the door and walks outside, how taken aback you become as you look at the trees, look at the branches and you see Jesus in everything, God’s Creation is everywhere.

My earliest memory of walking through fields would have to be fields of wild scallions. As a child, walking and putting my hands out on both sides, letting whatever fields it is that I was walking through touch my hands and feeling life, knowing that that I was touching reality in the moment, was and still is poetry.

“God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.” – Saint Teresa of Calcutta

When I was two years old, my mother, my father, my brother Jim and myself and my brother Stephen who was just born lived in Maine. I do not remember any of my time in Maine as I was very young.

I was told that there was a miracle that happened in my life one day in Bath, Maine, I have no human recollection of it whatsoever but the townsfolk did.

I have always loved nature, or so it has been said since I was a baby. One of my fascinations was looking up to the sky and nature as a whole. I’m not too sure what I was thinking about back in the day but I know what I think about now when I look into nature. There’s so much to contemplate.

At the age of two, so the story goes, is that I went off into the back fields. Living in Maine, there was so much country land that the fields just went on and on. I walked out of my back door into the fields of my backyard. I had no shoes on and only a summer dress.

My mother noticed that I was gone and she went to find my dad. Dad was nervous because their was our water well in the fields.

My mother and father searched for a while for me and they could not find me. At that time, the police, the fire department was called in, search parties were called in and then finally a Priest was called in because I was gone for so long that they did not think that they were going to find me and it was becoming colder.

My dad went off into the fields again to try and find me one last time before the search party ceased for the night.

I was told that I was found by my dad sitting in the middle of the field, smiling and giggling. My dad said that he had walked past that same exact part of the field as did so many other people, including the Fire Department, the Police Department and the rescue crews.

There was not a scratch on me and I was clean.

I sometimes wonder what happened to me that day, where I may have gone to. I remember nothing of that day at all.

One thing that I do know is that my love of nature comes from that day. There are no human words to explain why it is that I know that this is a definitive. In a Spiritual sense, I know that something very special happened that day.

A Mother’s Heart

Sometimes the strength of motherhood is greater than natural laws.” – Barbara Kingsolver

This year, I turned 44 years old. My sons are 26 years old and 20 years old. Some of my friends children are grown like mine, although not many, and many are just beginning their lives with children.

I get asked questions from new moms, moms with teenagers and even moms with adult children about the journey of Motherhood.

As I was having dinner with my husband this evening, we started to talk about a subject that had not been brought up in quite a while. About our oldest son, Ryan. When I was pregnant with Ryan, I found out at 11 weeks that my son was either going to have down syndrome or be a little person. The ultrasound showed that all of his limbs were very small and it also showed many characteristics of Down Syndrome. My husband and I were advised to go to Boston that afternoon to meet with a team of specialists. We did go to Boston and that story, I believe is in another blog post.

Fast forward, Ryan was born perfectly fine. My labor was almost 48 hours and I gave birth to Ryan at 1:30 in the morning.

After the nurses left, the doctors, all is finally quiet, I looked over to my right and Joey was sound asleep on the couch, I looked over to my left and I saw the miracle that God has bestowed upon me. I had just turned 18 years old, two weeks before Ryan’s birthday and I was fully prepared for raising a sick child.

As I looked over to my left and I saw Ryan, I asked God, “he’s OK, what happened” Internally I ‘heard’ “He will serve me one day.” I did not know what that meant at that moment as I had just found my way to God as a teenager and was very early in my journey but it’s a moment that I never forgot about. I never told my son about it and still have not to this day. I believe in my heart I know what God was trying to say that day to me especially at my age but I will never know.

As a mother, I want what my son wants. And sometimes that is hard, because we see our children going down a path that may be more difficult, and it is in those moments, in the heart of a mother, that we need to leave all preconceived conceptions at the door and love our children for their uniqueness and beautiful mind. Because that is what God does for each one of us.