All my life it seems it has been one thing then another. I have struggled for a long time with depression, anxiety, suicidal tendencies, but not only those I have struggled physically with extreme pain. I have always had problems with leg pain, as far back as I can remember. It has just seemed to progress as I got older. What happens when a person prays for healing and other people pray for healing for you as well and nothing seems to happen? I struggled, and that is no joke there. I have been told by others that I must have something blocking my healing, just get up and move, you are healed. I believe I am healed, Jesus died for my healing, however, I am experiencing pain, I don’t own it, it ain’t mine. I own a car, I can even own a house, but I do not claim to own a headache or body pain. So, here I am, at a time in my life when I have nothing but time on my hands and a story to tell. Now who is going to listen to this story, now that is a question only time will tell. My story is quite long, and therefore, it needs to broken down into pieces. I have learned that everything needs to be broken down into pieces, if not, then it gets to be overwelming and then nothing gets done and you wind up having mental breaks, which are not good, not even in the slightest. so, the thing is where do I start? at the beginning I do believe.
Let’s go back to first memories. My first memories begin with me standing in my play pen, and starring at a small black and white television. I later realized when I was much older of what exactly the images were I was seeing. I was seeing images of the the Vietnam war, men toting weapons through swamps up to their waist in water with guns held up over their heads. I also remember laying in bed with my mom and her trying to keep me quiet because a convict had escape the nearby prison and came into the house searching for food. I remember my aunt running over to the trailer where we were living and gettting us out because a tornado was heading that direction, and of course it came right between her house and the place where we were living. I remember the great storm that was coming and my mom and dad taking me up to Boatyard Landing to get someplace safe. I never understood that and still don’t even to this day. Hurricane comes, don’t go to the river. I also remember my sister when she was brought home. I didn’t even know she was coming. I was asked “what do you think of her?” my answer was to send her back, she will be nothing but trouble. Oh, how right I was. Maybe that is just what siblings do, but I think this one in particular, was a double dose.
If early memories are an indicator of what life has in store for a person, mine was going to be a wild ride, which, it turned out, it was and still is. So hang on to your seat, I do promise, my life has not really been boring, difficult yes, but not boring.