Victory In Jesus

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

Isaiah 43:2-3(NRSV)

When I was young, I could not understand why death surrounded me at every turn. It seemed like I could not count on anyone sticking around. Death was the only sure thing, my constant companion. I questioned why God would let me continue to suffer. I questioned. I rebelled. I hid from God, but he always found me. Eventually I came to understand that God always has a plan. He had a purpose for me, established and put into motion at the moment of my conception.

Growing up with death prepared me for my life's work. I spent the better part of twenty-nine years caring for the elderly in nursing homes. I cared for them and loved them as I watched one after another step through the veil into eternity.

Because of my intimate acquaintance with the final aspect of life, I was able to be compassionate on a different level. I understood the feelings of patients and family; the anger, the fear that told them if they buried their heads in the sand it would all go away, the acceptance of the inevitable. I cried, rejoiced, soothed, and stood in for family when they were too far away. Once I was incredibly blessed to be present when a patient's daughter and granddaughter sang her into eternity with the words of Way Over Yonder, a song by Carole King. Their eyes were crying, but the most beautiful sound was coming from their mouths, each note clear and true.

When I knew I could not function at the end of life any longer, I walked away to the next phase, knowing I had fulfilled God's plan, or at least that part of it. I have come to believe that the next part is to tell my story.

I developed a love of poetry in my early teens. It amazed me the way a few well-chosen words could resonate with so many people on different levels. I wanted to be able to evoke feelings with my words. But more importantly, I wanted to release the emotions I had bottled up inside myself. Writing became my therapy. The fear, anger, guilt, sorrow, loses some of its hold on me, its impact, when I put the feelings into words and lay them down onto paper.

People who read my first book and heard the poems at my readings encouraged me to write my memoir. Barefoot on Broken Glass was born after a long struggle. It is the story of how I, as a young girl, survived abandonment, rape, death, drug and alcohol abuse to find peace, hope, happiness, and a life of blessings in the arms of my savior, Jesus. Many events in my early life were so filled with tragedy and chaos as to be almost farcical. Losing my sister at age thirteen was a pivotal moment that set me on a new course fueled by fear and guilt for not saving her. I reeled crazily through the years ricocheting from the embrace of alcohol to the death of a loved one, from the escape of drugs to the death of a loved one. Everything seemed to lead back to death.

I searched for God, for answers, for relief of the agony that living had become. Each time I felt I was getting close I ran and hid. I wasn’t worthy. I didn’t deserve His mercy. I didn’t want Him to see what I had become, what happened to the happy little girl who once knelt in church and accepted Jesus as my savior.

Even more than a story of tragedies heaped on each other, my story is one of hope and love. My wish is that my story can be a light of hope flickering in someone’s darkness like a firefly in his or hers deepest night.

And then I cried, “Dear Jesus, come and heal my broken spirit”, and somehow Jesus came and brought to me the victory.

These are words from my favorite old gospel song, Victory in Jesus. God never gave up on me. He walked beside me through every trial. He saved me from myself, from my suicide attempts many times. When I finally cried “Dear Jesus, come and heal my broken spirit”, He did just that. I was still wanted, still welcome as his child, still incredibly loved.

Since Jesus healed my broken spirit my life is full of laughter and joy, and filled with more blessings than my heart can hold. I learned at an early age what is really important in this life. I have an incredibly loving and supportive husband. I am surrounded by children and grandchildren. Sorrow and worry are not completely absent, but Jesus puts his arm around me and walks me through. Other times Jesus is holding my hand and skipping along with me in the sunshine.

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