My last post, Daniel Christopher Day, December 18, 1972 – May 5, 1982, told the story of my son’s death and my redemption. I wish I could tell you that once he led me to the Lord things got easier – but that would not be the truth. Yes, I now had peace residing inside me but I still did not know how to access it. You see, Danny led me to the Lord but then he died and I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to do. I had no previous exposure or understanding of God or who He was. To me, He had always been this big, scary, mysterious being up somewhere called Heaven who had His finger on the button and was ready to zap me at any moment. Because I was bad. I had done bad things.

The first thing I did after Danny died was drink like never before. I was 28 years old and my son had just died and I was alone with a 5 year old daughter. I kept trying to pray but it was hard as I didn’t know the person I was praying to and was sure He wouldn’t listen to me anyway. But somehow (the still small voice I wasn’t alert to listening to) I started watching church services on TV on Sundays. I saw this one young pastor and thought, oh my gosh could what he is saying be true? When I found out he was local I started going to his church. It was strange and scary. All the people there seemed happy and for lack of a better word, good. I felt really out of place but everyone welcomed me and treated me well. The only problem was, that I was still in the throws of grief so bad I didn’t even want to get out of bed each day.

After about 6 months of attending this church I asked to meet with the pastor to discuss my grief. What he said to me during that meeting would affect my life for the next five years. He told me “if you had enough faith you would not be struggling like this.” Now I can’t tell you the words that came before or after those. I am sure that they were kind and not intended for harm. But this young preacher did not realized what those twelve words mentioned here would do to my life. I walked out of his office and did not think about God again for the next five years. Once again I was not good enough. Once again I had failed.

The only reason I mention this is because everyone, not just pastors, need to weigh their words carefully. Words have power. The other reason is because people need to know that if someone says something to them that makes them feel bad, they have the power to not accept it. I didn’t know that then, but I would learn that lesson later.

The next five years were a blur of partying and despair. That is until the day Jesus showed up in a mighty way. I will talk about that in my next entry. For now, I thank God everyday that He saved me and that He has given me a story and a voice to share it.

Blessings, Deb