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Blog Introduction

This blog is the story of how my husband and I faced the illness and death of two of our children. Each blog post is essentially a chapter in the story, so in order to truly understand it, you are going to benefit by starting at the beginning.
I hope you find our story touching, and in some way find comfort and hope through it as you face your own storms in life.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

The Work of Recovery Begins

My life had a new routine.  Every morning I would get up and get dressed.  This simple task seemed like a whole days work in itself, and was equally as exhausting.  I would eat a little breakfast if I could, but I had never been a big eater first thing in the morning.  If there were family errands to run I usually went along, more by force than desire.  It seemed as if each day passed slowly, and each hour tired me in spite of the fact I did very little.  It was exhausting carrying the weight of depression.  Emotional stress and emotional work are more tiring than physical work.

Karen gave me one "job" to do every morning. I had to do it without fail, and she made sure I did.  I had a list of approximately 25 scriptures I wrote out every morning. In order to counteract the lies I had taken in and believed, breaking their hold over me required truth to be applied.  It seemed simplistic, but the Word of God is alive and powerful; the tool needed to break through the darkness in my mind. John 1:12, "I am God's child." I Corinthians 6:20, "I have been bought with a price- I belong to God."  Romans 8: 35-39, "I cannot be separated from the love of God."  2 Timothy 1:7, "I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind."  I John 5:18, "I am born of God and the evil one cannot touch me." And the list continued.  Every morning I was instructed to write these words out, and every day they were put into my spirit and soul, slowly rebuilding the foundation which had been shattered.  Were there days I didn't want to do it?  Of course!  The enemy did not want to be confronted, and there were many days I  wanted to outright rebel from this writing routine.  Some days I displayed almost child-like behavior, similar to kids with their schoolwork.  Karen would ask if I had done my writing, I would hedge, knowing I hadn't and didn't want to, and she would send me off to my room to complete it.  It felt tedious at times, but the Truth was breaking through those hardened walls of resistance.
One night I knew I was beginning to have a heart change. I was lying in bed trying to sleep, but felt more tormented than usual. In fact, I felt as though there was someone in the room with me, and I began to feel very frightened.  I remembered one of the verses I had been writing for days, and I whispered it softly, but with firmness; "I am a child of God and the evil one cannot touch me!" Within a few short minutes, the feeling of panic left, I was calm, and went peacefully to sleep.  Maybe God was on my side after all.

I had been living with Karen for several weeks, and the hopes of a fast recovery and return to Slovenia had faded.  I wasn't improving; in fact, the thought of getting on a plane sent me reeling, climbing further back into my mental hiding. I was completely terrified at the thought.  Because of my condition, it was decided that Rob and Mike return for a few weeks to be with me Stateside.  Maybe having them with me would improve my outlook, and it would provide Rob the opportunity to see what was happening, and what needed to be done. 

Not many days later, Karen and I drove to Detroit to pick up my husband and son.  Both looked jet-lagged, but Rob seemed distant, almost cold.  I didn't know what to think of his response to me, so once again I took on guilt for messing things up.  I knew he loved being in Slovenia, and I was wrecking his dream.  No wonder he seemed aloof.  This reunion did not look like it was going to be fun.

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