Eli Triumphs…

ByRobert Kimbrellon September 17, 2016

Format: Kindle Edition

For several moments I sat at my laptop, trying to think of something that hasn’t already been said. There are many great reviews, and it is easy to see many hearts have been made tender by reading this.

First, I am so glad this story has been written down and shared. As the father of two wonderful daughters, I cannot begin to imagine the horror that took place in this mother’s life. How any man can be so evil is beyond me. Thank God for men like Matt, however.

There are a few happy moments in this story that made tears of temporary joy hint from behind my eyes: when Eli was able to drink apple juice without choking; the late-night trip mom took to get watermelon her son craved; when Eli and Noah played, as much as they could, in the hospital together. But sadly these moments too quickly moved aside, and the harrowing acts by a despicable grandmother and truly evil husband and father darkened the story. But this is real. That is partially what attracted me to this book. There is a time for the raw truth, it keeps one grounded.

To me, this book was more than a succession of events. Often, I felt like I was sitting across from the mother at a diner. My mind fades to gray images as she recollects her story from years ago. She opens her heart, and I listen to her thought process in awe. The mother is amazing for hanging on for dear life, even when it surely felt the bottom had fallen away and there was nothing to believe in anymore. She was there for her son regardless of all else. If you don’t believe evil exists, you will after reading this. Above all, little Eli shows strength and heroism, and despite the bitter end, he triumphed over life.

Hi, I’m author Mary Schmidt of When Angels Fly, and I’m your host for this stop in the Hunt.

If you would like to find out more about the Hunt, please click here – http://vfcscavengerhunt.weebly.com/

Somewhere on this page is a hidden number. Collect all the numbers from all the authors’ posts, and then add them up. Once you’ve added all the numbers, and if I am your last author, please head to the official website and click on the ENTER HERE page to find the entry form. Only entries with the correct number will qualify to win. 

The author I’m pleased to be hosting for Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt today is Dark Fantasy Author, Natalia Brothers.

From the call of a loon that sent chills through my spine and awakened What-if, my unrelenting writer’s muse, to the book cover release—SOUL OF THE UNBORN has been a thrilling journey. Here’s the spooky truth about why I chose to write this particular story.

In the nineteen thirties, several members of a close-knit family purchased summer homes in a village not far from Moscow. A series of mystifying events took place in the life of one of the sisters. She couldn’t have anticipated that one day, I, her Russian-American great-granddaughter, would make the decision to write a novel based on the family mythology, a story so strange that only the Dark Fantasy genre could accommodate its eerie vibe.

Can you call yourself human if supernatural forces control your every breath, every emotion, every desire?

Posing as a folklore-tour guide, Valya Svetlova takes a group of American college students and their professor, Chris Waller, to her summer home in the Russian village of Vishenky for a few nights of supernatural phenomena. She works hard to appear a perfect hostess. Valya doesn’t want anyone to discover she harbors selfish motives when it comes to one participant, the only person who can refute a wicked tale declaring her a stillborn resurrected by a paranormal entity, a puppet in someone’s horror show destined to perish in the otherworldly dimension.

Within hours of their arrival, Valya learns that the students, too, foster some dangerous agendas. Her nascent feelings toward the handsome professor inhibit her ability to control the 23 supernatural manifestations and her inquisitive guests. When her unforeseen affection turns Chris into a target of the malevolent forces, Valya faces the excruciating reality. It’s no longer in her human power to ensure her guests’ safety. But to keep Chris and the students alive, Valya must brush off her humanity and become something she fights so desperately to prove she is not. A soulless monster.

Author’s Bio:

Born in Moscow, Natalia grew up with the romance and magic of Russian fairy tales. She never imagined that one day she’d be swept off her feet by an American Marine. An engineer-physicist-chemist, Natalia realized that the powder metallurgy might not be her true calling when on a moonless summer night she was spooked by cries of a loon in a fog-wrapped meadow. What if, a writer’s unrelenting muse, took hold of her. Two of her passions define her being. Natalia is an orchid expert and she writes dark fantasy.

http://NataliaBrothers.com/

https://twitter.com/NataBrothers

https://www.facebook.com/NataliaBrothersAuthor/ 

Did you find the number? If you did, then click Natalia Brother’s link – http://nataliabrothers.com/ to continue Virtual FantasyCon’s Blog Hop Hunt.

Welcome to another edition of Lisa Burton Radio. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl, and my special guest today is Sarah Jackson. She grew up in a life of abuse, married into an abusive relationship, and lost her son Eli to cancer. “Welcome to the show, Sarah.”

“Thank you for the invitation Lisa and I’m happy to be here.”

“Can you tell our listeners something about your childhood? It sounds like it was pretty rough.”

“I vividly remember my childhood. As a little girl, my mother would force feed me foods I hated, such as peas, until I threw up. She did this to me often and she seemed to enjoy the abuse she inflicted upon me. I had six siblings and none of them remember my mother doing the force feedings except for my older brother who was eight years older than me. Abuse affected him, too, and to this day he stays away from any kind of contention. I wish I could say that the abuse abated as I got older, but it didn’t. I was always a kicking and punching bag and she would drag me around by my hair. No one could please her and my father never saw the treatment she doled out to me as he was always working. I had absolutely no self-esteem and I would retreat into a fantasy world where I was a princess and loved by all. I would curl up in my bed and thrust that fantasy into my child’s brain as a form of escape. I liked reading and as soon as I could read well enough, I started reading the Nancy Drew series, Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames, and Laura Ingalls Wilder books. I would escape into a world of my own through books. I could stay in my little room, in my bed, and read. Sometimes I would make paper dolls and dress them up with paper dresses. I remember how I would oftentimes try to draw younger siblings into a hug as none of us received hugs from her and I tried to show them how to love each other. (I have pictures)

“Starting around age eight, I tried to please her in other ways by doing work around the house. I would vacuum without being told to do so, and I washed dishes. I started doing the entire households laundry from washing to hanging on the line, and then take down and fold. I delivered the clean wash to the respective recipient’s bedroom and it didn’t make my mother proud. In fact, she simply expected me to continue with these chores. She left my father after 21 years if marriage and I chose to live with my father as I was 14 at the time and could choose. Then she forced him to sell the house and he was forced into a tiny apartment, after which I had to move in with her again. In high school, she was relentless in her treatment of me, and she never bothered to show her anger to the world. To this very day, I don’t understand why this was allowed to go on. The only thing I can think of is the fact that our neighbors were just as scared of her and she kept her punches to areas that were covered by clothing. In looking back post high school, I could see that some teachers knew that my home life was rough but that was as far as it went. My only escapes were school and work. I was so tired of her beatings, and the emotional and mental abuse she inflicted.”

“Almost anyone would be excited to leave all that behind and strike out on her own. Is that what you did?”

“Before I was age 18, I was looking for an escape ~ ANY escape. Working as a waitress left me with little money. I dated a few guys, and then my mother said to me one time, with a sneer, that I was only a “sperm receptacle” and that no one would want me. I wasn’t having sex. Eventually I found a guy I liked, and we dated for a few months and then we simply started living together. I had thought this was my escape into happiness and that he was my prince. He drank alcohol almost daily, and he invited me to move in with him. I thought that this was my chance! My chance to get away from my mother and the abuse she inflicted. I thought I could change this man into drinking less alcohol, I was in love and we married.”

“Did you love him? So many women go down this path, and they always think they love him. Is it because you’ve never known true love?”

“In hindsight, I never loved this man. I was in love with the idea of being in love, and I thought I could make this relationship grow into true love. That never happened and then the abuse began – the vicious cycle of abuse. Complete physical, emotional, mental, and sexual abuse – unending – even when pregnant. I sometimes wonder if the stress of this relationship was too stressful on my oldest son. Joshua was a perfect baby, and he died inside me. Labor was induced, and I shed tears for my unborn baby. I named him Joshua and he was perfect. He died when he became tangled in his umbilical cord and strangled to death. I was bereft, and I had a simple funeral for Joshua – only one sibling and myself. His father didn’t attend as he was drunk in a bar. Joshua’s eyes, the nurse from the hospital told me, were blue like mine. My baby had no hair. Tears rolled down my cheeks upon realizing that I would never get to know if his hair would be brown like Henry’s or blond like mine. His tiny hands would never get the chance to hold a basketball, or a football. His feet would never be able to pedal on a bike. His mouth would never open to utter that he loved me. I could though, so I did. “I love you, Joshua,” I told him. I loved him so much.

“On December 12, 1983, I gave birth to Noah. My baby was seven pounds and fourteen ounces, twenty inches long — a healthy boy. After my son was cleaned up and breathing normally, the nurse laid him on my right breast. I cuddled him wrapped in baby blankets as my bed was wheeled out into the hall towards the mother – baby unit down the hall. I looked at the face of my son and tears started rolling down my cheeks. It was a different feeling, a delicious mix of sorts. On the one hand, I was bursting with pride — this beautiful boy was mine. I would nurse him and care for him and love him dearly. On the other hand, there was a tinge of sadness because somehow, a part of me was telling me that this baby would have loved to play with Joshua. “Noah,” I whispered to my boy before kissing him on the forehead. Then I froze when realization hit me that it was the only time I spoke that name with such reverence and love. Just thinking about Noah makes me smile. I am so proud of him. He came into the world and into a broken home, yet he persevered and became an Eagle Scout. Noah is strong in spirit, and he is a caring young man. When I think my love for him cannot expand, I find myself wrong and my heart swells with loving pride. I made sure he always had hugs and love from me and he openly gives me hugs and love as well.”

“But you had another son, Eli. He had a difficult journey too, and you shared every step of that with him.”

“I could hardly believe it. Noah was barely seven months old; I was twenty-three years old at the time; and I was pregnant for the third time. Who would have thought that after an unsuccessful first birthing experience, God would immediately give me two babies? It didn’t make Joshua’s loss forgotten, but my being pregnant again reminded me of God’s greatness.

On April 6, 1985, I gave birth to another healthy baby boy and I named him Eli. He weighed 7 pounds 6 ½ ounces and was 21 inches long. When I held Eli in my arms the first time, I felt really blessed. I had two beautiful boys in my life. Noah and Eli were best buddies and they did everything together. When Eli was age four and a half years old, he started having many sinus infections, upper respiratory issues, doctor visits, tons on medicine, scans, and X-rays. Everything came back negative except for his high white blood cell count, fevers and not being the little boy I knew. Starting in September of 1989, and on through the end of February 1990 no one could tell me why Eli was so sick all the time. Twelve doctors and specialists, and even one doctor placed tubes in his ears to help Eli. CT scans were MISREAD!!!!!

“On March 4, 1990 I noticed that Eli had lost the peripheral vision in his right eye. Straight to the hospital we went and finally someone read a scan correctly that showed a mass the size of my fist – in his right neck area and extending into the brain cavity as well as metastasis into both lungs! He suffered horrors no child, or adult, should ever have to experience. For six months he was misdiagnosed! For seven and half months he lived in pain and horror in the hospital before passing. I can best sum up precious Eli with the letter I wrote to him about a year after he died.”

October 13, 1991

My Dearest Eli,

Yet again tonight I went to bed crying for you, Eli. Heart wrenching sobs escaped from me and in between them I relived your short life with such clarity.

I knew you were very special, Eli, from the day you were born. And now, with the first anniversary of your death upon us, I realize fully just how special you really were and still are. You affected so many people in your short life, Eli.

Even now, I have moments when it is hard to believe that you are really gone. Or are you? You’re in my heart now and forever Eli.

Will it ever get easier, Eli? Sometimes, I am very happy for you. Those times are when I know you are pain free and happy. Heaven must be such a wonderful place.

Then there are times when my heart aches and aches for you, Honey. Those are the times when I relive moments of your childhood before the doctor diagnosed you with cancer, and also moments after being diagnosed.

I remember vividly the day you were brought home from the hospital after your birth. Your brother, Noah, only one year old, took to you instantly. Throughout your short life, the two of you were inseparable. Best playmates you two were. But you were the most daring, Eli. You had such a zest for life.

I remember the day you and Noah were on your 3-wheelers, and racing around in and out of the garage. Noah came running into the house to tell me you had a snake cornered in the garage. Upon investigation, there you were, laughing with delight, and riding your 3-wheeler in circles, closer and closer, to a coiled king size bull snake.

Sometimes when I wake in the morning Eli, I start to think about what I’m going to make my “boys” for breakfast. And then I remember.

And sometimes in the evening, when Noah is taking his bath, I remember how it always was two boys in the bathtub and not one.

My precious Eli, oh, how I miss you. I miss your sweet smile, shining blue eyes and pale blond hair.

You had to grow up so fast, Eli. It was such a shock to learn that you had cancer, one month before your fifth birthday. In a flash, I would have traded places with you.

You went from being a happy little boy into a world of doctors and nurses, needles and IV’s, catheters and spinal taps.

I was selfish, Eli. I loved you too much to let you die. And so you suffered. You went through head and neck, and open chest surgeries. How my heart ached for you, Eli, when, four hours after surgery on your lungs, I helped a nurse stand you up in bed. How you hated ICU.

Because I loved you too much to let you go, you suffered such horrible radiation burns on your sweet head and neck. The chemotherapy made you so very sick. Even under sedation, you were sick. But you knew the “good guys” were out to get the “bad guys”. At four years old, you knew you would die without treatment.

It hurt me so bad that you were unable to eat for seven and a half months. Your only nutrition was IV. You always ate so well before. You had always relished the sheer taste of food. It was unfair of me to bring food into your room in the hopes that you would eat something. Sometimes you tried. I remember when you woke during the night once and asked for watermelon. I drove half of Denver to get it for you. You only ate a couple of bites, but it was worth it.

I remember the long days and nights in the hospital those seven and a half months. I was able to take you home only four different weekends. I remember the isolation in times of high fever and the ice blankets, lots of oxygen and machines everywhere.

How I cried Eli, on the morning that we woke up and found all your hair lying in your bed and not on your head. You were too proud to wear a hat.

I also remember good times, like when the group came from the Denver baseball team and you received an autographed photo of George and a Royals’ baseball. Or I would be wheeling you around, outside the medical center, and you would point out cars and ask me if they were “race cars.” How we would talk about the race car we would have someday and how much it would be worth.

Having lived two hundred and thirty miles away, you were awestruck by the freeways in and out of Denver. You thought they looked like race tracks.

And how about the time I was able to take you to the Denver Zoo? You did not mind that I had to push you, a boy at five years of age, in a stroller, up and down the hills. You were so weak. You did not care; you only wanted to see the animals.

And on good days, I also remember how you would hide under a gurney in the hall and wait for a person to be passing by, only to give them a good dose of water from your squirt gun. It did not matter to you whether or not you knew the person you squirted. Sometimes you would sneak around the nurses’ station and into the medication room, fully loaded with water, and let loose. No doctor, nurse, or visitor was safe from you.

Or how about the times an IV would complete and I would unhook you. You headed straight for your three-wheeler and down the hall you zipped. Everyone stayed out of your way and laughed. Such sport you had.

Other times, when you had to stay in bed, you made me chase down a VCR so you could watch Superman or Ghostbusters. You never tired of those two movies. You knew them by heart and delighted in telling anyone who would listen what would happen next.

I remember the times when you would have to undergo yet another series of X-rays, CT scans, or MRI and I would stay by your side throughout them, telling you stories and keeping you from moving.

I’m sorry, Eli, that I was not able to make you well. I think that you went through all that you did, those seven and a half months, simply because of how much I loved you and did not want to let you go.

I remember the times that I would feel down and you would come up to me. You would put your arms around me and say, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

I remember when we were together, waiting in the OR before your lung surgery. You were feeling well and you looked at me and said, “I want to go to Heaven, Mom.” I went speechless. And then I told you that sometimes we don’t get what we want and that you might have to come back to me.

And yet, I remember so well how after your last chemo, you picked up yet another “bug” and ended up on a respirator; just how much you fought for life as we knew it, those last fifteen days.

Most of all, Eli, I remember how I cradled you in my arms, and whispered into your ear that soon you would not have to have any more pain and it would be okay, as your heart stopped for the third and last time, and you died in my arms.

Thank you, Eli, for going through what you did because I loved you and did not want to let you go.

I’ll always love you Eli.

Mama

“I can tell I need to stock up on artificial tears again– But, Sarah, life goes on. You’ve been through so much already. I don’t know if it’s possible to recover from all that. How do you move on after something like that?”

“You don’t “move on” for this is the King of Loss. Only parents who have suffered the loss of a child will truly understand this fact. I have words to help those who have not had this kind of loss.”

WORDS FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT LOST A CHILD/ CHILDREN

Does it get any easier losing a child/ children? Somewhat…

Is it possible for a parent to be happy their child/ children are perfect in Heaven above and feel peace with that? Sure… (It took me twenty-three years for Eli and somewhat less for Joshua)

Can a parent ever “get over” losing a child/ children? No. This is the KING of loss. We can be happy that they are perfect in Heaven and sad at times when we miss them the most.

Bereaved parents are continually re-writing each day as this is the new “normal.” This won’t change. We will think of our loss when other children reach milestones such as first tooth, first steps, first words, kindergarten, holidays, best friend, graduation, prom, falling in love, first kiss, learning to drive, getting married, the list is endless.

The WORST things you can ever say to a parent who has suffered the KING of loss, ever after one, ten, twenty, or more years? “You should be over it by now,” or “Move on with life.” You see we are moving on with life, we just do it one hour or day at a time, re-writing life as we go along.

~S Jackson, October 2014

“I am thankful for my second husband, Michael for you see we share a love like Johnny and June… Many want to have a love like Johnny and June; the deep, soul mate, best friend, encompassing love they shared despite the ups and downs along the way. Mike and I are deeply blessed to have this kind of love; the deep love with the one who you were destined to be with, your best friend, your soul mate. Despite our own ups and downs (not like Johnny and June’s) our love kept growing stronger and stronger, unending to this very day. Our wish for all of you is to have this kind of love in your life.”

“Strong lessons for all of us. I’m honored to have you as my guest today. Today’s show has been sponsored by When Angels Fly, by S. Jackson. Please hit the share buttons at the end of the post. When your characters appear here, maybe someone will do the same for you.”

When Angels Fly is based upon a true story. S. Jackson is a pen name for Mary L. Schmidt.

Bio: Mary L. Schmidt writes under the pen name of S. Jackson, and she is a retired registered nurse, who won the coveted Leora B. Stroup Bachelor of Science in Nursing Award for outstanding clinical performance, community involvement and academic achievement in Nursing Award, while at Fort Hays State University. She is a member of the Catholic Church, and has taught kindergarten Catechism; she has worked in various capacities for The American Cancer Society, March of Dimes, Cub and Boy Scouts, (son, Noah, is an Eagle Scout), and sponsored trips for high school children music. She loves all forms of art but mostly focuses on the visual arts; amateur photography, traditional, and graphic art as her disabilities allow. She has published twelve books since retirement; the first a memoir, When Angels Fly, followed by an Art Picture book featuring her own works of art, one cookbook, and eight books for children of which four are a part of a full series. Protecting children from molestation is important to her, and with that in mind she wrote Suzy Has A Secret. Seeing what bullies can do to a child inspired her to write the book, The Big Cheese Festival. Schmidt has designed all of her book covers. She loves spending time with her husband, Michael, and especially her first grandchild, Austin, just turning age one year. She is a Member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators: The international professional organization for writers and illustrators of children’s literature, and Sigma Theta Tau International: The Honor Society of Nursing, which is the second-largest nursing organization in the world with approximately 135,000 active members.

Book Trailer for When Angels Fly https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhmETPrtKdw

When Angels Fly Book: https://www.amazon.com/When-Angels-Fly-S-Jackson-ebook/dp/B017UNVWDI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Blog: https://whenangelsfly.wordpress.com

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MMSchmidtAuthorGDDonley

Personal Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mary.schmidt.50

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MaryLSchmidt

Artwork: http://mschmidtartwork.deviantart.com/

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/S.-Jackson/e/B013NRRKR2

Linked In: https://www.linkedin.com/in/mary-schmidt-a1a511101

We are blogging with Lisa Burton Radio today, and here is the link!

https://coldhandboyack.wordpress.com/2016/10/06/when-angels-fly-on-lisa-burton-radio-rrbc/

By David A. R. White

I was given the chance to read this book and be a part of David’s book release team. Being on his team has not made me biased regarding this book. In fact, if anything, it has opened my eyes further to God, and has actually given me the chance to dream again.

Between Heaven & Hollywood is compelling to say the least. White’s story of how he chased his God-given dreams isn’t simply the glitz of Hollywood or fame as this book encompasses much more. I love White’s quote, “I cannot guarantee you a perfect life, but I can show you how to perfect the life you live.” If you really think about that quote you will realize that no one has a perfect life no matter what the media may say otherwise. I was struck by this quote, “If you allow fear to get in your way, to stop you from getting to where God wants you to be, you run the risk of a far less rewarding and fulfilling life than what could have been.” This is true in more ways than one. Fear begets additional fear and that makes Satan happy. With medical issues, fear is something I battle most days. Or I did… Now, thanks to White, I give my fear, and my battles, up to God, He has control anyway, and not worry as much like I did in the past. That doesn’t mean fear doesn’t sneak in because it will and it does, but putting your faith and trust in God is really all you need.

“Don’t let fear cheat you out of your dreams. God is bigger than whatever you’re worried about.” ~ Unknown

“Fear is an insidious monster. Fear of what could happen can ensure nothing will happen. But as with all monsters, fear can be defeated— especially when you realize it’s a monster of your own design and it only has as much power as you give it.” White wrote, and so with that in mind I have made changes in my life. Fear isn’t allowed to thrive like it once did and I can relax knowing that God is truly in control. We truly do discover God’s strength when we lean on him with our fears. He wants us to lean on Him, and remember He made us. So take all your fears to God and He will give you the courage you need. “This is something fear does not want you to do. God is to fear like kryptonite is to Superman.” White wrote, and God will strengthen you. Of that I am sure, 100 percent sure! God is the one who has brought me through so many trials in my life and He made that possible. Remember God made us, and He loves us.

“Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)

White wrote, “I believe God included a dream, a destiny, and a uniquely specific reason for living in each of our unique blueprints (DNA).” Each person is unique and each person brings with them just what God planned for them to bring into our/His world. It is up to us as to what we will do with our specific reason for being here on Earth. Everyone has at least one thing they are good at and they can share this blessing with others. God put a dream in our hearts, and it lives there. It is up to us as to how or what we do with that dream. Once you know your dream, take the time to write your goals down so that your plan may come to fruition. Write down the steps you need to achieve in order to get to that large dream you have.

White wrote, “Unlike wishes, dreams are passions you can achieve and should commit to. They are more than fantastic notions providing amusement and entertainment or relief from boredom. Your dreams are the keys to your future. Your dreams define who you are, and setting and achieving realistic and well- thought- out goals will help you accomplish your dreams.” At this time my dream is to have a Christian feature film made in regards to my memoir, When Angels Fly by S. Jackson & A. Raymond. White didn’t give me that dream. God did! I had this dream long before I watched any of White’s movies, too. Now, before you think I just want a movie made to boost my ego or something along those lines allow me to explain why this is my dream, and some of the steps I have taken towards this dream. I will elucidate further in my narrative so please keep reading.

 “Failure doesn’t mean God has abandoned you, it just means God has a better idea.” ~ John Maxwell

“God wants us to be successful, but it will be on His terms and His time table, not ours. He may throw failure at us to strengthen us in our faith… God may have different plans or desires than we ever thought we wanted, and his plans are more gratifying.” ~ David A. R. White

Think about this quote. Once you realize that you aren’t going to have things they way you want them, you will see that God’s plan is better for you than you can imagine. “There are going to be times in your life, most probably during your quest for dream fulfillment, when you are going to experience a failure. Your knee- jerk reaction might be to blame God or to feel that somehow he has shorted you, but the truth is, he is not the cause of our failures, although he does allow them from time to time and for a variety of reasons.” ~ David A. R. White

Job 14:1 tells us, “Mortals, born of woman, are of few days and full of trouble.”

“Many Christians simply aren’t prepped to face or to deal with failure, and therefore the experience can be debilitating, and the questions it raises can be very disheartening: Where was God when I needed him most? How did he let this happen to me? Did I do something wrong? Is God angry with me? Does God really exist?” ~ David A. R. White

I failed God. I was quite angry at God. At one point in time I hated God. You will come to see why I felt this way. As a child, I was mentally, emotionally, and physically abused by my mother, and this abuse didn’t end until her death in November of 2013. Throughout all the cruelties, I knew something better would happen in my life and I knew God was in control. My battered body cried out, but I thought God must be too busy to help me. From that abuse, I went into another relationship post high school and it turned out to be abusive as well. I just couldn’t get away from domestic abuse and I was in that vicious cycle of abuse.

My oldest son, Shane, was stillborn. I had been to my doctor, and he said that my baby boy no longer had a heart beat and that labor had to be induced. The one thing that I thought was all good and wonderful in my life was snatched away from me and I was angry at God. I lashed out at Him with so much anger and I fell into a deep depression, a hole I just couldn’t climb out of. I had tried so hard to become pregnant, and ended up burying my son.

 After about a year, I learned I was pregnant again! Elation and fear took turns in my head and my heart. When I reached eight months gestation, I decided that I would, indeed, have the baby I dearly wanted. After 36 hours of labor, my baby boy came into this world blue! Feverishly the staff worked on him and then I heard his cry. I knew that God had intervened and touched my newborn with His Holy Spirit, and that He breathed life into my baby. I doted on my baby boy, Gene, and I felt completely blessed by Jesus.

Fifteen months later, I had another boy, Sam. Elation soared and my boys took to each other instantly. Best playmates, best friends, they were inseparable. However my husband remained abusive in all imaginable ways to me. He let me know that if I left him, he would kill me. That was the only thing I ever believed that came out of his mouth.

When my boys were ages four and five, I knew I had to leave him for their sake. Long story short, we moved into an apartment. Time and again their father would harass me. Sam started having multiple sinus infections, upper respiratory issues, and more. Tubes were placed in his ears, CT scans were done multiple times, and he never remained well. In hindsight, those scans were misread and my son was misdiagnosed for eight months!

By then, cancer had spread from his neck into his brain and metastases found in both lungs. For seven and a half months he fought for his life. My son suffered horribly!!! I was at his bedside day and night. My faith wavered and faltered throughout this time, and I was angry at God!!! By then, Sam was age five. Most remarkable is that Sam wanted to go to Heaven!!! Sam knew Jesus!!! Sam knew God!!! Even though I was afraid to teach him about God, my son somehow knew!!! My son said to me, “I want to go to Heaven, Mom.” What would you say if your child stated this to you? I told him that we don’t always get what we want in life and that he might just have to stay with me. Instead, I should have asked Sam why he wanted to go to heaven. I should have been brave and asked him what he knew, what he saw, and what he felt from heaven. But I didn’t…

Twenty three years later, I started the process of putting my journals and events into digital format, followed by an award winning book and memoir, When Angels Fly. Now my dream comes into play. I honestly want a Christian feature film made with a screenplay already written and inspired by my memoir. Do I want this for my glory? Do I want to get rich from this? No. Allow me to explain why I want this dream to come to fruition. I believe God gave me the inspiration to write my memoir and He gave me my dream of making it into a feature film. Why? I will tell you.

In my memoir, I hope to help others in a variety of settings. I want to inspire battered/abused women to have the positivity, which enables them to get out of bad life situations. Abuse ~ all forms of abuse is a biggie. I want to help women, and some men, who are in abusive relationships find the strength to get out before it is too late, and something worse happens, such as being murdered. I want to get out the hotline numbers to call, and safe houses to go to. The cycle of abuse needs to stop, and it won’t without more people talking about the help that is out there. A feature film will help get the word out!

I want to empower parents to be advocates for their sick child. I want to help other parents who have lost a child or children that there is hope, that faith will waver, and that this kind of loss is the “King of Loss”, and to take it minute by minute, day by day, as they rewrite the life they had planned when their child was alive. I want to spread what my five year old little boy knew about Jesus and Heaven!!! I want to help parents and educators know how to speak to a student who has experienced the loss of a sibling. I know that validation, along with encouragement and faith are the keys in making this happen. All of this will glorify God!!!

“For some of us, failure can be a way in which God gets our attention. It’s a tap on the shoulder in an effort to get us to come back to him if we have wandered away and gone astray. Sometimes that tap can be a painful experience that he uses to express his fatherly love.” ~ David A. R. White

I found my way back to the Lord, but I certainly struggled in getting back to Him. The hardships that my children and I endured may very well have set on track my dream of a feature film and helping others in their situations. God will be glorified in this film. My dream may be my extraordinary destiny. I believe that, and maybe some producers will believe in that, too.

“WORDS FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT LOST A CHILD/ CHILDREN

Does it get any easier losing a child/ children? Somewhat…

Is it possible for a parent to be happy their child/ children are perfect in Heaven above and feel peace with that? Sure… (It took me twenty-three years for Sam and somewhat less for Shane)

Can a parent ever “get over” losing a child/ children? No. This is the KING of loss. We can be happy that they are perfect in Heaven and sad at times when we miss them the most.

Bereaved parents are continually re-writing each day as this is the new “normal.” This won’t change. We will think of our loss when other children reach milestones such as first tooth, first steps, first words, kindergarten, holidays, best friend, graduation, prom, falling in love, first kiss, learning to drive, getting married, the list is endless.

The WORST things you can ever say to a parent who has suffered the KING of loss, ever after one, ten, twenty, or more years? “You should be over it by now,” or “Move on with life.” You see we are moving on with life, we just do it one hour or day at a time, re-writing life as we go along.” ~ Mary Schmidt

I say again, my dream may be my extraordinary destiny. I believe that, and maybe some producers will believe in that, too. God wants me to help others and I believe in that deeply. That is why things happened in my life and now I can use that to help others. God wants us to be kind, and he wants us to help others. In my case, I believe he wants me to help many other people, and God will glorify.

“Trials are meant to transform and shape you for the better, not cripple or destroy you.” ~ David A. R. White

I was destroyed, or so I thought. I was hung up for so long and my soul was crushed. I knew that I couldn’t stay in that way of living as I still had my middle son, Gene. I had to be there for him, support him, and I did!!! I could have gone down the road of alcohol or drugs, but I chose against that. I could have left God forever, but I chose Him!!! White wrote, “God does not enjoy it when we suffer, but such is his love for us that he will resort to doing what he has to do for us to learn some tough lessons. Pain and suffering are a part of life. We have to accept it, expect it, and learn from it. There are going to be times in your life when you have to forget what is gone, be thankful for what you still have, and look forward to those things yet to come.”

“You turn to God for his guidance and strength. If you think you can go it alone, then you’re not dreaming big enough. So ask yourself, does the enormity of my dream scare me? Does the impossibility of my dream cause me to cry out for God’s direction, strength, and wisdom? Is my dream only possible by faith?” ~ David A. R. White

White wrote, “Does Your Dream Glorify God? Everything God made, he did so for his glory.” To glorify God is to praise and exalt his attributes, including his mercy, grace, love, and omniscience, to name just a few. It means to honor him with our behavior, how we act and think. We glorify God with our faith, trust, and obedience. To glorify God is to submit to him in all our ways and to acknowledge his glory, valuing it above all things.” If you are still reading this then you know my God-given dream is to glorify God, and my dream most certainly will help others. “Will your dream soothe human suffering in some way, fill a need, or solve a problem, or does it simply get your picture in the newspaper?” Yes, David, my dream will help so many people in so many different ways.

“We all may come to a point in our journeys when we have to let go of what was and have faith in what will be. But the dream is never the destination. Christ himself is always the endgame” as well He should be. Remember that God is always in control, and He will guide us in the right path if we allow Him fully into our heart.

Isaiah 40:31 tells us, “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.”

White wrote, “We learn not to depend on ourselves or on our friends and family but only on God. Only God can make it happen. The sooner you realize you are helpless and that you need God, the less you might have to wait. You always run the risk of having your God- given dream thrown back into your face, but don’t let this stop you from sharing it. The gift I’m speaking of, that of grace and eternal life is worth your taking it on the chin from time to time. If you have a dream, live that dream now. Act and behave as though your dream has been fulfilled.” Yes David, I believe that completely. Despite my many health issues, I am doing all I can to live my God-given dream.

Today at Rave Reviews Book Club we’re having a recruitment drive, which is something we do most days on social media, but make a special effort on our blogs once a month. We have themes to us…

Source: My Responsibility as a Writer? … and why YOU should take a good look at #RRBC