Family – Page 11 – Kathi Waligora

March 30, 2013March 24, 2014

This Nana has no regrets. Only precious memories.

I awoke this morning to an empty house – very empty! And very quiet!

No little girl stood beside my bed, looking at me and asking the usual Saturday questions: “Where’s Papa? At work? Can we get up, Nana? I’m not sleepy any more.”

I made only one bed this morning – my own. Jacob’s, Ben’s, and Kaylee’s had not been slept in.

I stepped into a clean kitchen and watched the CBS Morning Show instead of Saturday morning cartoons.

I leisurely drank coffee and fixed my own breakfast instead of Kaylee’s.

I rushed to the laundry room to start the first of many loads today, but I found only a few odd socks. I won’t be washing any laundry today.

Then I wrote my grocery list and found it to be very short.

I feel very strange and terribly lonely. The house is not the same.

~~

I’m remembering the last 13 months when the house was filled with dolls and Legos, backpacks and half-eaten granola bars. I rescued socks from between the sheets and I sorted outfits for each day of the week. The fridge held large jugs of Powerade and organic 2% milk; the pantry was packed with Honey Nut Cheerios and Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips; and the freezer was stocked with Cookie Dough Ice Cream.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Laundry room hooks held fleece jackets and hoodies; its shelves were stacked with boots, shoes, and baseball cleats; and its hampers overflowed with dirty jeans and white t-shirts. Crumbs covered the floors under the kitchen stools; Happy Meal trinkets bounced from one room to another; and blobs of blue toothpaste splattered the bathroom counter.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

This Nana took on the traits of Mommy. (It’s an awesome combination!) And Papa added the role of Daddy to his character. (It’s a huge responsibility!)

The savings account dwindled.

The vehicles’ odometers soared as “The Road Less Traveled” became “The Road More Traveled” – back and forth between home and schools 24 miles away – three or four times a day.

Evenings were filled with baseball games, homework and baths, snuggling and lullabies. Weekends meant wrestling meets, visiting Mommy and Daddy, and going to church.

Nana and Papa forgot that they once went out to dinner, sat quietly and talked, and watched old movies on television. (They were too tired to remember such times.)

And yesterday, I sorted some last-minute thoughts and turned them into reminders:

“Kaylee, here are your little pink wash cloths. I’m packing them for you to take.”

“Benny, don’t forget to brush your teeth – morning and night.”

“Jacob, your baseball uniform is washed and ready for your first game next week.”

And last night, they took that long-awaited step from our house to their own house with mommy.

So today, as I sit alone, I’m remembering the last 13 months, when this house has been a refuge and a haven of unconditional love to three adorable grandchildren, and I’m feeling strange and lonely in this empty, quiet house – a house that is not the same.

But this Nana has no regrets. Only precious memories.

March 17, 2013February 11, 2022

Dear Daddy,

It’s been a year now since that sad Sunday morning when I sat beside you, singing, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus; there’s just something about that name,” while you took your last breath. Larry, Becky, Mama, and I, looked on, Mama holding your hand – our hearts breaking to let you go.

It was the greatest loss I’d ever known.

It was a day I had never wanted to live.

I knelt by your casket and sobbed. As the days passed, I thought I had cried so much that I couldn’t cry any more, but that didn’t happen.

The crying continued.

For a long time.

At about six months, I reached a turning point in my grief. I missed you just the same, but it didn’t hurt as much – I didn’t cry as much – and I found more joy in the memories.

But as this March 4 approached, one year later, that past Sunday morning became vivid in my mind again – like it was yesterday. My thoughts and prayers have been on my new grandbabies – two precious boys born since you left us – babies you would just love to see – babies you will love to meet someday: little Luke who Kristen’s youngest, and little Jackson, Matt’s youngest. I can picture you admiring each of them, pride in your face. I can see the tears in your eyes when you learn that baby Luke needs surgery. I can hear your broken voice in prayer, crying out to the Father you have trusted since you were young.

So toay, I reach in my jewelry box and lift out your wedding ring, sliding it onto my necklace chain. And I wear it close to my heart through these days of delivery and surgery and tumult and joy. And it comforts me to know my Daddy is near and that your prayers are still in a jar, going up as incense before our God. And I thank God for your faithfulness. But I mourn your loss.

So you’ve been on my mind a lot now, Daddy, one year later, and I’m wondering if or when the pain of losing you will ever go away. At first, a year ago, I thought, It won’t be long until I’ll see him again. The Lord will come soon. But now it’s been a year – a long year, and it seems like a long time before I’ll see you again, and I’m yearning for you.

I’m remembering a Daddy who made Christmas fun and who gave me beautiful Valentines.

I’m remembering a Daddy who brought us running when you emptied the noisy change out of your pants pockets on Friday evenings after work.

I’m remembering a Daddy who sat at the table late in the evening and ate Mom’s homemade bread soaked in cold milk.

I’m remembering a Daddy who worked all week long – then spent cold winter Saturdays cutting, hauling, and stacking firewood to heat the big house through the week ahead.

I’m remembering a Daddy who bought a new camera to take pictures of his daughter, the homecoming queen.

I’m remembering my tender-hearted Daddy who mourned the loss of his mother, and father, and brothers, and sisters, and brothers in law, and sisters in law, and on and on – a very compassionate man whose heart ached for those who were hurting, a man who wanted to do good for others – a man very much like Jesus. So I know you understand how I’m feeling now, Daddy.

Daddy 1966 — My Daddy
Wayne Olen Nutt
June 26, 1924 – March 4, 2012

So, now, I will continue to miss you and mourn you, but now I will also delight in the memories. I will strive to carry on those special customs and traditions you began in me and in my family – the love of nature and the simple life – the love of family and neighbors and friends – and the love of Jesus and those He came to save.

I will watch Jacob mowing the lawn – your lawn – with the John Deere – your John Deere. I will watch Benny playing in the woods by your lane. I will watch Kaylee riding her bike around your driveway.

And I will watch the eastern sky – and as I watch, I will listen for the shout! – when our Lord will bring you and Mama with Him and catch me up to join you – and we’ll all be together again!

Goodbye until then, Daddy, and kiss Mama for me.

With love from your little blonde girl.

March 6, 2013May 14, 2013

My greatest gift to Jackson is . . .

I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.

2 Timothy 1: 5

There’s a new baby in our family and I am ecstatic! His name is Jackson Matthew Waligora. He is the youngest son of our son, Matt, and his lovely wife, Lynette. And I am his Nana! We are so happy and thankful!

~~ ~~ ~~

We welcomed him yesterday at 10:24 am, 6 lbs. 15 oz., 20.5 in., a beautiful baby who looks like his big brother and sisters and who has darling dimples on his face. When we went at the hospital, we took a card, a soft fuzzy lamb, and a balloon, but his true gift from us yesterday was a blue blanket that his Mommy had washed and ready to wrap around him.

~~ ~~ ~~

We have a tradition in our family – it’s the blue blanket for the boys – the pink blanket for the girls. Not just any pink or blue blanket – it’s a certain blanket – a waffle weave with satin binding – the Morgan or Bright Future brand.

~~ ~~ ~~

The tradition began with our youngest daughter. She had a spot (or “pot,” as she called it) on the satin binding of her pink blanket: the place where the the edges of the binding met. She rubbed the “pot’ between her fingers while she relaxed and slept. As the months and years passed, the “pot” wore and the beautiful pink faded to a dusty blush, but it was still her special blankie.

The tradition continued with my niece – then passed on to my grandchildren, each having his or her own blue or pink blanket, some cherishing that blankie, some indifferent to it.

~~ ~~ ~~

By the time our 11th grandchild, little Jackson, was due, the Morgan and Bright Future blankets were no longer being produced, but his mommy found the Boals Baby Blanket online. It was perfect! And so it became Papa’s and my special gift to little Jackson.

I want Baby Jackson to love that blue blanket! I want him to find his special “pot” on that satin binding and snuggle it and be comforted with that blue blanket for years!

But there is yet a greater gift I can give my Jackson.

The apostle Paul referred to Timothy as his “true son in the faith.” Paul was “filled with joy” when he was around Timothy and was reminded of Timothy’s “sincere faith.” And how did Timothy develop that faith? It first lived in his grandmother!

More than the blue blanket, I want to give my Jackson the gift of faith – “sincere faith.”

~~ ~~ ~~

God’s Word promises me that if I have a strong fortress, it will be a refuge for Jackson – a comfort and means of strength (much greater than that of his blue blanket)!

God’s Word promises me that if I delight in His commands, my children and generation will be mighty and blessed. (This promise make the blue blanket look meaningless!)

God’s Word promises me that if I righteously fear the Lord, my Jackson will inherit the land (Far greater than merely inheriting the blue blanket!)

God’s Word promises me that if I am righteous, my children will be blessed. (This gift of faith to Jackson just keeps getting greater and greater!)

~~ ~~ ~~

So I want to be a Nana who has a strong fortress in God, who delights in His commands, who fears the Lord, and who is righteous. And someday, let it be said to Jackson: I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your Nana Kathi . . .

NIV References: 1 Timothy 1:2; 2 Timothy 1: 4,5; Proverbs 14:26; Psalm 112:2; Psalm 25:13; Psalm 37:25,26

March 1, 2013March 1, 2013

Pouring out my heart, for Luke!

Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.

Psalm 62:8

In my Bible, in the margin beside this verse, I’ve written these words: “Ron read this to me, 12-28-08.” I don’t know why it was so special at that time. Were we going through a difficult time on 12-28-08? I think I made the note because it was so special to me that Ron shared that verse with me – because it spoke to him.

And today, as my heart is aching, that verse speaks to me.

Yes, I do trust in him . . . Yes, today, I have poured out my heart to him . . . And yes, today, I again find that God is my refuge.

Ron and I left the house at 8:17 this morning. I cried until we reached Jackson. That’s okay. I’m not ashamed of crying. It does not mean I don’t trust God. He understands and He allows it. In fact, the psalmist writes, “. . . pour out your hearts to him . . . ,” and crying is sometimes a part of pouring out my heart. My crying led to praying, and my praying led to praise, and my praise led to singing.

As I write this, Baby Luke is being prepared for surgery. Right now, I’m not singing. I’m crying again.

I’ve poured out my heart to God. It wasn’t the first time, and it won’t be the last. God has told me to do so; He knows it’s best because in pouring out my heart, I find that refuge I’ve known for quite some time:

– the shelter in the storm, bringing warmth and the comfort of impending sunshine

– the arms that hold me in the midst of darkness, revealing the coming light of dawn

– the righteous right hand that holds me up and never lets me go

– the ever-present help in trouble, trouble like I’m feeling today

When I think of my little Luke in surgery, my gut wrenches and aches, but

I trust in Him

I pour out my heart to Him

and I find refuge in Him.

And He is ever faithful. (Psalm 145:13b The Lord is faithful to all His promises.)

February 26, 2013February 26, 2013

He is in the palm of God’s hand!

The baby is born! My little Luke – my tenth grandchild! Luke, the “bringer of light”!

I praise.

There are problems. Luke has two holes in his heart and a duct that needs to close.

I praise.

And I pray.

I see answers to prayer. Those answers comfort me. They remind me of God’s love and mercy.

One hole closes – it is healed! The duct closes!

I see miracles! Those miracles strengthen my faith.

I praise.

I pray.

And I wait.

Luke grows. He gains stature, strength, and weight! He nurses well. He is strong and appears healthy, so healthy that when others see him, they don’t know he has a hole in his heart – a hole that has not yet healed.

I praise.

I pray.

I wait.

And I trust God’s promises.

I want that second hole to be miraculously woven, knit, and healed by God’s hand – His righteous, right hand. His holy hand.

The answer I hear is not the answer I want: God is going to bring about Luke’s healing through surgery.

Again, I realize that I am not the orchestrator of this healing. But God is. So I rest.

I praise.

I pray.

I wait.

I trust God’s promises.

And I rest.

It does not come easy for me to rest. I sing. I praise God. It helps me rest. I picture Baby Luke in the palm of God’s hand – His righteous, right hand – His holy hand. Whether Luke is at home in his cradle, nursing in his mother’s arms, or in the doctor’s care on the surgery table, there is no safer place for Luke to be than in the palm of God’s hand.

I praise.

I pray.

I wait.

I trust God’s promises.

I trust.

I rest.

And I thank Him.

I thank Him because he loves Luke even more than I do – even more than Luke’s Mommy and Daddy do. I close my eyes and I see Jesus with little Baby Luke:

“People were also bringing their babies to Jesus to have him touch them . . . and Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me.'”

And so I am bringing Baby Luke to Jesus this Friday morning. And as I do,

I praise.

I pray.

I wait.

I trust God’s promises.

I rest.

I thank Him.

And I know that he is in the palm of God’s hand.

January 26, 2013March 24, 2015

A blessing and a curse

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. 2 Corinthians 1:4

God used so many people to comfort me – close friends, family, acquaintances, neighbors, high school friends. God comforted me so that I can comfort others. I hope to. Comfort others.

My friend is hurting. Her mother passed away. Her mother was her best friend. My friend is an only child. Mother and daughter were as close as seems possible. I wrote her a note of sympathy. In that note, I called her relationship a blessing and a curse. A blessing because of the many wonderful years of memories. A curse because it makes the grief and pain of that loss so much greater.

I used that rhetorical phrase because I have experienced both the blessing and the curse.

The blessing of being so close to my parents, both my mother and my father – the blessing of living close to them, our children back and forth between our homes, often worshipping, working, and vacationing together. The blessing of long life – many years to love and enjoy them – many years of experiencing their love for me.

The curse doesn’t come until the end of the long, blessed life. The curse comes when the suffering begins, and you suffer with the parent, for the parent. The curse comes when he/she passes away and the pain and grief seem unbearable.

~~ ~~ ~~

Everyone doesn’t know the curse. I once spoke with a woman whose father had passed away. She said she hadn’t shed a tear! I sat, dumbfounded, listening to her. I didn’t judge her. I was happy for her that she hadn’t suffered grief – that she hadn’t suffered the curse, but sad for her that she hadn’t experienced the blessing!

~~ ~~ ~~

The great hope for the believer is that the curse eventually dies. Because God IS the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, the curse dies, but the blessing remains. And the blessing grows and develops, like a beautiful summer flower, with the expectation and hope of eternal life.

~~ ~~ ~~

The blessing of eternal life – forever to love and enjoy them – forever of experiencing their love for me.

My friend, I write this for you, today. May you find comfort in the arms of the Father of compassion.

~~ ~~ ~~

Study the Word: Psalm 119: 76; Isaiah 41:10; Psalm 46:1

Pray the Word: Oh, God of compassion and of comfort, may your unfailing love be my friend’s comfort today. Strengthen her, help her, uphold her. Be her refuge and strength.

January 23, 2013

Tomorrow at midnight, . . .

Tomorrow, at midnight, her daddy will be at the back door of the building.

Tomorrow, at midnight, her daddy will pick her up – his precious daughter – his youngest daughter.

She’s coming home – to her new life – free of the addiction, guilt, and darkness of the past.

She’s coming home – to her children – her beautiful children who have weathered the storm and are awaiting the comfort of their mommy’s arms, awaiting the sound of her voice, the coconut fragrance of her hair, and the touch of her fingers stroking the nape of their necks as she sings them to sleep.

— — — —

She’s coming home – to her new home – a big yellow house bathed in love and steeped in tradition and heritage.

— — — —

Her recovery is complete; her debt is paid; her punishment is over.

She will step out and breathe in the cold, crisp, fresh air.

And she’ll thank God for the new life He has given her.

And tomorrow at midnight, I’ll thank God again, as I promised Him last year – and forever and ever – for the new life In Christ He gave my precious daughter – my youngest daughter.

January 14, 2013

So I ask them, “Daddy. Mama. . .”

I’ve been missing them more lately – my daddy and mama. I’ve been wanting to talk to them. Perhaps it’s following the holidays. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been in their house quite often, sorting, cleaning, and getting it ready for new life!

But I think the true reason I’ve been missing them so much is that I’ve been imagining them holding our newest grandson, little Baby Luke. He’s the first grandbaby born since Daddy and Mama passed away and the only grandbaby they hadn’t yet held, so I picture them holding little Luke.

I see them snuggling him. I see the love in their eyes and hear it in their voices. “Oh, Kristen,” they’d say. “He’s just perfect. Why, Josh, he looks just like you!” Tears of joy fill their eyes as they absorb him.

And as I picture this, I speak to them. I don’t know if they can hear me or not. But I know they’re in heaven with the Lord, so I ask them, ” Daddy. Mama. Go to the Lord Jesus. Kneel before Him. Ask Him to heal Luke. Or just touch the hem of His garment and Luke will be healed.”

But I’m somewhat ashamed before the Lord. Speaking to my daddy and mama sounds so much like a prayer to them, and that just can’t be. I want to be reverent. So I confess and wonder again if Daddy and Mama can hear my request.

Then I am suddenly filled with joy. I remember that Daddy and Mama have already gone to the Lord Jesus – many times – in behalf of our little Luke and in behalf of each of our little grandbabies. As I near the house, I hear their prayers, their tender voices crying out to the Lord for us – their family. I stand on the front porch and look through the kitchen window, gazing on their wrinkled, spotted hands, clasped to each other’s on the kitchen table and clasped in prayer. I see their opened Bibles — on the kitchen table or the sofa table or their bedstand.

And I know that those prayers were powerful and effective, that those prayers offered in faith will make Luke well, and that the Lord will raise Luke up, because those prayers are still going before the Father, in the name of their Lord Jesus Christ who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

And I thank God for Daddy and Mama. And I don’t miss them quite as much for now.

January 10, 2013

Dear Mama,

Your birthday was last week. I thought of you, celebrating your birthday in heaven. Happy Birthday, Mama. If you had been here, Larry and Becky and I would have brought a cake to you and celebrated. You would have been 88 years old! I would have loved to have you here to celebrate. I miss you, Mama.

I looked through your purse the other day, Mama. Read every little note you had written, cherishing your handwriting, the handwriting that we always laughed about together – scratchy!. I browsed through one of your diaries, the one from 2003, wishing we could be back there again, spending time at your Florida house. Every once in awhile, I look in the mirror and catch a glimpse — of you! I haven’t erased your messages on my answering machine, Mama, but I haven’t been able to listen to them, either – for such a long time now. I think I’ll try again in a few days. As much as it hurts, I want to hear your voice again.

I bet you miss me and you feel badly for all I’ve been going through. If you were here, you would have worried so, and I didn’t want you to worry. But oh, how I long to have you hold me in your arms. Now you understand how things are — here — and there — and what’s best. How the Lord really works things out for good for those of us who love Him. (You really understand Romans 8:28, now, don’t you?) Speaking of the Word, do you read it there? Do you speak it? Or sing it? Or since Jesus is the Word, does He just totally indwell you? Wow! It’s awesome, Mama. You must love it there. Well, anyway, I’ll bet you really DO miss me – you just don’t miss being here – even though you loved the place — the country, the yellow house, the garden, the land.

Speaking of the yellow house, Mama, it’s almost time for Amber to move in. Isn’t that amazing? Of all the grandchildren, she’s the one who will love it the most — will love living there — will love the country, the yellow house, the garden, and the land. She’s the one who will love watching the deer and the turkeys. Well, anyway, today, Jake and Jesse’s cousin moved most of Amber’s things from the storage unit. I’ve been cleaning and getting things ready. I want to have a cloth on her kitchen table. I think she’ll cry to walk into the house and know it’s hers! She’ll have to live there by herself for awhile; then the kids will join her. What a blessed day that will be! But most awesome will be when Jesse joins her. They’ll be a whole family again!

The yellow house was painted; I was so careful to select just the right yellow, and I think it’s perfect! Then I had Jim put all the spindles on the porch rail – the spindles that have sat in the granary for about 30 years. They’re back on the porch were they belong!

And oh how pretty the new porch light looks! I occasionally leave it on overnight – just so I can look over there and see the light. Reminds me of you — of you expecting someone to drive in. Just to think of the years you left the porch light on, waiting for Larry, or for me, or for Becky! Little did I know then that I would do the same thing with my children, and now, Amber will do the same with her children – right back in your house — the yellow house.

And as much as you loved the yellow house, Mama, I’ll bet you don’t really miss it, either. I’ll bet God has given you a new one in heaven – or prepared it for you to have when he takes us all there together. And I’ll bet that yellow house (the one in heaven) has the open stairway you always wanted — and the summer kitchen with the green and cream colored cook stove. And Daddy shares that yellow house with you! Wow!

Can you see us here Mama? Do you know about our new baby Luke? Mama, please touch the hem of the Lord Jesus’ garment in behalf of little baby Luke. Ask our Lord to heal baby Luke. And ask Him to bless our baby boy still in Lynette’s womb. Two new babies, Mama. Two more to fill the empty spots you and Daddy left.

I’m so happy for you, and I can’t wait to be with you and Daddy there someday. Hug Daddy for me. I miss him so much. Tell him I’ll write him soon.

You’re both with our Savior, Mama. What peace you must finally have! That peace is just about beyond my comprehension. I’m always striving for it here – I write about it sometimes. It’s so difficult to be steadfast, but I keep trying. As much as I look forward to seeing you both, I know the first and foremost joy will be seeing my Savior, Jesus. I can only imagine!

(Click here for the link to I can only imagine . . .)

“I can only imagine what it will be like

when I walk by your side.

No more pain. No walker. No wheelchair.

I can only imagine what my eyes will see

when your face is before me.

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!

Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel?

What did your heart feel, Mama?

Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of you be still?

I’ll bet your danced, didn’t you, Mama?

Will I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall?

Will I sing hallelujah, or will I be able to speak at all?

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!

I can only imagine when that day comes

when I find myself standing in the Son!

I can only imagine when all I will do

is forever, forever worship you!

I can only imagine; I can only imagine!” (Mercy Me)

Some day, Mama, some day.

I’ve thought of you so much today, Mama. I miss you so much. I’ll write again after I listen to your voice again on the answering machine.

With love,

your honey girl.

December 30, 2012

Hope and a future! 2013 – I will bring you back!

It’s mine.

It’s yours.

Hope and a future in 2013.

God says He will never leave us or forsake us. (Hebrews 13:5b)

2012 was the most difficult year of my life. But He never left me through it all nor did He ever forsake me. The pain was nearly unbearable at times, but His grace was even greater.

In February, our youngest daughter and her husband were arrested. The four days that followed were a blur. So devastating that I don’t remember all the details. Ron and I held each other and dropped to our knees, crying out to God for help. He helped us. I learned to pray unlike I had ever known before. The pleas and praises came from a depth within me that I hadn’t known existed. I prayed without ceasing – quietly, silently, or aloud while walking through the grocery store! Communion with my Lord unintentionally encompassed my every moment during those days. Later, communion with my Lord became intentional.

In March, my daddy died. Yes, he was old. Yes, he had dementia. Yes, it was a blessing. But he was my daddy, and the pain was real and continues to rouse from time to time. I miss snuggling his neck and face. I miss hearing him say, “I love you. Be careful now, honey.”

In April, my mama died. If you’ve lost both parents, you realize how final the passing of the last one is. I’m 10 years old again, and I’m an orphan. The last months, weeks, and days were terrible – she suffered so. Through it all, God was faithful. His grace was so real. But the night after her funeral, after all the family was gone, including the grandchildren who had been my comfort — after the beautiful words were spoken and the songs were sung, I suddenly couldn’t find that grace. I honestly thought I couldn’t go on. I’ve never felt so empty in my entire life. I had no peace. I had no joy. But I remembered that there was a love there that I could feel, if I could just reach it – if I could just find it. So I spoke the only words I could: “I love you, Lord. I love you, Lord.” Over and over I said those words. The peace came. It filled me. The grief remained, but His peace surpassed the grief. I found Him to be faithful in the midst of my greatest grief.

Court dates, pleas, recovery programs, caregiving, taking classes, teaching courses, 50-mile round trips to and from school, doctor and dental appointments, baths and bedtimes, overseeing homework, laundry, cooking, and finally, the sentencing, filled my 2012 days and drained my natural energy, but the Lord was my strength. When I felt I couldn’t go on, I remembered those dear people who were praying for me – I remembered them by name and thanked God for them and prayed for them, in return. I trusted that God would give me the strength He promised, and I told myself that if I did not believe it, it would be an insult to Him, so I believed in that strength.

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” (Psalm 94:19)

Because of the Lord’s work, my prayers have been answered. My daughter and her husband embraced the Savior. Their lives are totally transformed. They now walk with and honor the Lord with their lives. I thank God for answered prayer.

I also thank God for the heritage left me by my daddy and mama. I cherish every memory and envision them together in their “big yellow house” in heaven.

As the year 2012 came to an end, our tenth grandchild was born – Luke Ryan Greene, our Bringer of Light. God blessed us with him. He was born with heart defects. We trust God for his complete healing. We began to see miracles. His platelets had lowered to 60,000 – then to 54,000. The levels were becoming dangerous. The next day, his platelets were over 100,000! He required oxygen for days. Then suddenly, his oxygen levels became normal, and the oxygen was removed. He went home! He relishes in the environment of his home, with the commotion of his active brother and sisters. He flourishes in the nourishment of his mother’s milk. He gains weight! 1 lb. 3 oz within 2 1/2 weeks! The next cardiologist visit and tests revealed that two defects were healed! We trust and await the continued healing of his heart, for we know that he is fearfully and wonderfully made and God loves little Luke.

This is the first of the miracles I am looking for in 2013 – the complete healing of our precious little Luke!

“Nothing is impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

Next, I am looking for the miracle of the birth of our eleventh grandchild – healthy little baby boy Waligora, to be born in March!

“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart; I appointed you . . .” Jeremiah 1:5

And, in 2013, we will rejoice when our dear three grandchildren who now live with us are reunited with their parents!

“All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be your children’s peace.” Isaiah 54:13

What does the Lord have planned in 2013?

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. . . I will be found by you . . . I will bring you back . . ” (Jeremiah 29:11-14a)

The Lord said “Call to me, and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things which you do not know.” (Jeremiah 33:3)

We have called!

He will show us!

He will bring us back in 2013!

If you have not yet called on the Lord Jesus Christ, accept Him as your Savior! “Faith comes from hearing the message and the message is heard through the word of Christ.” Read about it in the Word. See Romans 10:8-13. the Bible says that if you confess with your mouth (speak it) that Jesus is the Lord and you believe in your heart that God has raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Call, email, or message me. I’d love to hear from you. God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life! Plans for hope and a future! A bright future!