The devil pinged me last night. And it was right regarding the intrusive thoughts it pushed at me. And I relived and realized old vague questions on why's that I had pushed aside a long time ago as in from 1 Corinthians 13:11 where the Apostle Paul wrote, "When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child... And that's the thing... it was right. Kind of, sort of. It bases its lies on just enough truth to snag you. And that the people involved have long left for heaven to speak to about it enables the devils taunts to be that much more believable. It told me that I wasn't wanted. That I was invisible. That the rejections I have felt were accurate. I talked to God about it and I asked Him if my whole reason for being was a mistake. He said "if it were, I would have rectified it." And the lights went on. Dim at first just, like the morning dawn and then breathtaking as the SON rose up in me. The devil is a liar comes directly from John 8:44 in the New Testament, where Jesus describes the devil as a murderer from the beginning who has no truth in him, calling him "a liar and the father of lies." It has been a life long battle to believe my mom wanted me. And yet she was my greatest teacher. Of course she did. I was graced with a vision that never fades that proved it over and over. From my book Trade Secrets of a Seer... "...My mother was so weak in her humanity that God filled her entirely, and together they made a difference in so many lives to meet Jesus. I was privileged to be taught by her. She mentored me through many tragedies. She taught me to speak, "Thank you, Jesus, I praise you for this," even though. Together we saw miracles manifest from these words. Many laid claim to her time and attention, but she was my mom, and she loved me. Her hospice care was short. The call at work came. I do not recall driving the distance, yet I remember hearing the song lyrics "nobody said it would be easy" on the radio. The devil is well, the devil. And he jogged my memory in this sad time of "remember when?" The memory of an act of jealousy, of my mother's time, by another's viciousness struck hard in a lie as a "concerned" person told my sister and I that we should not have been born, for our births threatened our mother's life. The carelessness in that statement haunted us for a long time and came blaring back. I gave the memory to Jesus. And He stepped in and saw that the truth was revealed as God granted me great mercy and removed all walls and boundaries and blessed me with the true vision of my birth. I saw my mom reach for me. I saw myself looking into her eyes and felt unconditional love. I saw that she wanted me. I saw that she loved me, and she was glad I was born. This heavenly vision healed more than words could ever say in a single glimpse. My lifelong doubts left and peace filled my heart. It was her time to join the others that have already gone ahead and will soon be actively praising Jesus in total joy, without pain. I crawled into the bed with her as I had always done, but there was no talking this time, just two souls bound by love and DNA. I told her it was okay to go; God would take care of me as He always did and not linger on my account. And boy, oh boy, did I know my mom! Even in her unconscious state, I knew she was waiting. And as her daughter, I knew exactly what for! She was waiting to be "officially" blessed to go. The nurses came into the room and prayed the Lord's Prayer over her. They blessed her life and ours. And she was gone. Her life's work is summed up in one act, "Nobody leaves without getting a blessing." I left her room, walked outside, and leaned up against the pillar of red brick, made warm by the afternoon sun, of the Samaritan Home. It was late October on the prairie, and I knew that even this warmth was too fleeting. I sobbed as I wept for myself. I often wonder what God thought when he put the two of us together. Even though our dispositions are entirely alien to each other, we have the same eyes. And each time I look into the mirror, I see her eyes looking back at me. I recall the vision often, and I remember that she wanted me. This knowing has sustained me through living the rest of my life without her causing me to be the last one. It was a beautiful October day, the kind that makes the calendars, and to the left of me was a field being harvested. The tractor purred along, collecting the seeds that had done their job of growing and maturing and were ready to be what their design intended. Letting the heat of the bricks warm my back, I felt my entire life flash in front of my eyes as I realized I was an orphan. And then, appearing in the almost vacant parking lot, an older gentleman was walking straight toward me. White hair. Bronzed face and hands. And sky-blue eyes. He asked, "Are you alright?" My voice caught in my throat, and the tears rolled down my cheeks like a thunderstorm. He reached out and hugged me tight and said, "you are loved, and you will be okay." Like in Luke 22:43, "An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him." And then he was gone. In that hug was an impartation from God as He took me back to my start and forged me forward to live out my legacy inherited from my mom, who was born to save the world, born to share the love of Jesus with everyone. Her prayers reached the ears of God and made a difference. She was an extraordinary woman living an extraordinary life, always on the go to meet the needs of others as a seer and a prophet. She knew of my day by looking at my face. I saw her take her final breath. In six be seeing my youngest granddaughter take her first. The legacy will continue. Less than a year after her mom passed, she joined her at the age of 82. God knows the plans He has for us. My daughter will tell her own story as she nurtures and mentors her daughters in our line, who will reap the legacy of generational blessings to continue to the glory of God..."

I had a conversation with my gram who was just 99 at the time about sharing a room with my mom at the Good Samaritan Home. She said “a mom is never done being a mom and a daughter is never done being a daughter.” To make this a more pleasant experience both sides need to do their part, which also applies to dads and sons, moms and sons, dads and daughters. The Bible spells it out that this is rooted in love, respect, and the promise of well-being for those who follow… “Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.” - Colossians 3:21 ““A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish child brings grief to his mother.” – Proverbs 10:1 Life is a lesson in forgiveness and grace. Pinky swear.

Life is hard. My dad used to say “the first 100 years are the hardest” and I would roll my eyes as it sounded a bit facetious as well as lacking empathy for my troubles. As i grew older and racked up God wins so too did my faith. This I know… We all encounter really hard trials and get knocked about a little too hard and God is in it with each one of us. The other night my physical pain got the best of me again and I cried. The devil leapt at the opportunity to tell me that I was dying. My hairs on the back of my neck raised and I rebuked the insidiousness. God stepped in and the song by The Red Clay Strays played in my head reminding me He was in control and that despite feelings that I am just fine. This latest need for healing will happen when it happens and will preach the goodness of God through tears. He is I AM. And https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=5z2QfZ7zQsw&list=PLO-KW6q601j4cnxs4Imh871cFS_lfnPZW

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