I'm not precisely sure how to even start this one. There is so much back story I feel needs to be told, that will appear random until we get to the here and now, so please be patient.
In 1997, there was a multitude of revivals which occurred at the churches I attended. There are two which stick strongly in my mind.
Before I tell you the first, you must know that due to the abuse I suffered as a child, I was told I would be unable to have children. My uterus was also turned the wrong way, making it even more impossible. Babies were a solid no for my life.
Carrie Southie, a missionary from South Africa came to Glad Tidings for one of the revivals. At the end of the night, she pointed me out and asked me to come forward.
She, having never known me, begins to tell my story. She talked about the abuse I had suffered and my broken heart, she talked about how God could and would heal me. Then she placed her hand on my stomach and started praying. She says "I curse this barron womb" and began crying and laughing and says "oh thank you Lord for healing her". She looks at me and says "you are gonna have babies and babies in the Lord, and babies and babies of your own". She says that my story is one that will be told all over the world to bring healing to others. She says my broken heart will let others know they are not alone, and that God is able. She says, "my only regret is that I can't take you with me now, but it's not time."
I didn't understand, but her words have stuck in my mind. Only a few weeks later I became pregnant with my Rachel. Two more babies followed. Babies of my own. Then came the multitude of children I have had the blessing to mother. Babies in the Lord.
He is able.
A few weeks later, Mark Evans preached at a second revival. He also called me up front. He is rather comical in his preaching, and I wish I had the actual thing he said recorded, but he said that he saw me in an airport and asked me where I was going and I said China. Then he saw that my tickets said something else, and the departure gate listed another country, and he says "which place are you going", and I said "all of them". He then talked about how I was going to go all over the world telling my story and what God had done in my life.
Fast forward 15 years, which I have spent struggling, falling, and at times, literally fighting for my life.There are several moments I should have died, and many more that I wanted to, but I'm still here.
In the past couple of years I have began writing. I am blown away by people's response. I am humbled that they take the time to read, and honored to have said anything that brings healing to their own hearts. I know that isn't me. I know it's God. I literally dream the words of most I write.
I hate change. I hate different. I don't even eat small M&M's. But for the past couple of years, I have been sooooo restless. I know my house is no longer my home, a feeling I understood even prior to my divorce.
I don't know where I am going. I only know I am not supposed to be here. I don't know where my stories will end up, but I know I must keep telling them. I don't know how, but I know the one who does.