In 1972 Jesus came into my life. From then on, Jesus would place me into a situation that taught me more and more about Himself. One book that I was reading, was on Fasting. After I had finished reading this book, I decided that I would do what this book said. The following day after I had given my family their breakfast and everyone was gone, I went into the den, so I could pray, as I didn’t eat anything that morning. As I was praying, I said, “Lord, there is a stray cat outside that I would like to help. But each time I get near him, he leaves. What I am going to do? I am going to go outside and call to this cat. If it comes to me, then I will really know that Your Word, as well as You Jesus, are real.”
I walked outside and I called to this cat. That cat was underneath my neighbor’s car that was in his driveway. Immediately, that cat left that car and he came straight toward me. My mouth dropped open. As I picked up this stray cat, I knew than that yes, Jesus Christ was real.
Later on that year, Ron had to see a client that was in the Florida Keys. He decided to take us with him, so we could have a nice vacation also. I was seated by the pool, watching, as my two daughters were playing in the wading pool. As I was sitting there, I was drinking my favorite drink that consisted of rums and fruit juices mixed together. All of a sudden, I got a blister in my mouth. I said, “O Lord, I will never take another drink again.” Why I said that, I had no idea.
The following weekend, my husband had to see a client in another city. His clients took us all out to dinner. They ordered a drink and so did I. The first slip that I took of that drink, I heard a voice in my head say, “You promised Me.” I thought to myself, “Was that Jesus Christ, Who has just spoken? No, it can’t be. He doesn’t talk to people. Does He?” That was the first time that I had ever heard the Holy Spirit speak. I took one more slip of that drink and I never had another one since.
In 1973 I had become pregnant again. But this pregnancy was a lot different than the two previous ones. At least with the two other pregnancies, when I would get sick and eat something, I didn’t vomit. That was not the case with this one. Whatever I did, it didn’t help. A few weeks later, my in-laws came down for a visit. When they did, I let them sleep in my oldest daughter’s bedroom. My daughter slept with her sister in her bedroom. While they were there, Ron’s mom asked if she could iron her clothes in their bedroom. I said, “Fine.” Then I brought them the iron and iron board. When they left to go home, instead of placing this iron board in the room, where I could see it, it was placed in the closet behind the clothes.
That following weekend Ron wanted to take his family out for breakfast. I went into my oldest daughter’s bedroom to get her a coat. As I was moving the clothes around in her closet, that iron board fell out of the closet, striking me below my navel. The pain was very strong and it hurt badly. But without thinking, I grabbed her coat and I left.
A few days later, I felt very tired. Ron wasn’t working that day, so he took our children to the park, so I could get some rest. Later, after I had gotten up from a good nap, I had to go to the bathroom. As I was walking toward the toilet, I felt something fall into my underpants. When I looked to see what it was, I saw my baby lying there. I picked up my little baby and I held it in my hand. Its head was large not fully formed yet, but my baby’s hands and feet were. They were so tiny. As I held this baby in my hand, I asked Jesus to bless it. When my husband came home, I showed him our baby. He phoned the doctor, letting him know what just had happened. The doctor wanted Ron to bring in the fetus, so he could find out, why it had died.
I knew why it had died! It was because of the iron board. When it hit me that day, it had pushed my baby away from the placenta and the umbilical cord, killing it. When Ron brought the fetus to the doctor, he asked him what sex, the baby was. The doctor’s reply, “The fetus was only 12 weeks old. In order to determine the sex, the fetus needed to be 14 weeks old.” Ron was so hoping that this baby, was a boy. The doctor never gave our baby back to us, so we could bury it properly.
This doctor, also, asked Ron, if the placenta and umbilical cord had come out. When Ron asked me, I told him “No.” This doctor didn’t believe me, he was so sure that it did, I just didn’t know what to look for. But I knew it didn’t. So instead of bringing me into an operating room and doing a D&C; which would have removed any tissue, he chose to wait for another six weeks.
Since it was getting closer to Christmas, I decided that I wanted to go Christmas shopping without my children. So I dropped them off at a childcare center. But I realized that I had forgotten something, so I went back home, to retrieve it. As I was walking from my kitchen into my den, I felt a gush of water coming out of me. I reached my hand behind me and I touched my black slacks. When I looked at that hand, it was full of blood. I quickly phoned the doctor, but he was out of town. Instead, I told the doctor on call what had just happened. He reassured me that everything was fine, it was just a heavy period. I took a shower, changed my clothes, and I decided that I wasn’t going to go shopping. Instead, I drove to the childcare center, picked up my children and brought them home. On arriving home, I felt extremely tired. After I turned on the television program that my children loved to watch, I went into my bedroom and I laid down. At 4:30 that afternoon, my children came into my bedroom, informing me how hungry they were. I got up and I went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. When my husband came home, I placed the food down onto the table and after telling him what had happened and that I was tired, I went back to bed.
Six o’clock that evening, I started bleeding once more. This bleeding lasted to almost midnight. But what Ron and I didn’t understand , because there were clots of blood coming out, we thought it was really tissue, not blood. Neither Ron nor I could figure out where all this tissue was coming from. Ron, as I continued to bleed, finally phoned my Dad, who was a doctor up in New York, asking him, if he knew. But he had no answers. Then finally Ron phoned my dad one more time, pleading with him. He said, “Dad, can’t you or Mom, who was a nurse, fly down to help us.” But Dad’s reply, “Mom nor I will be able to fly down. Instead we will send our maid, so she can help you.” After Dad had phoned the airport and made reservations, he phoned Ron back, letting him know that he could pick up his maid at five o’clock that following morning.
As I continued bleeding, around midnight I prayed. I said, “I’m so tired Lord. I need to get some sleep. Please Lord, stop this bleeding, so I can get some rest.” A few minutes later that bleeding stopped. Early that morning Ron drove to the airport and he picked up my parents’ maid. Once they were back home, Ron phoned my doctor about what had happened. The doctor told Ron to bring me into his office. He also added that Ron shouldn’t allow me to eat anything, as he may have to operate.
After Ron had helped me get dressed, he then helped me into the kitchen ,where he sat me down on one of the kitchen chairs that was next to the table. Once that was done, he went outside to warm up the car. As I was sitting there, on the table I saw a piece of toast. With the little strength that I had, I picked up that toast and I ate it. Miraculously, that toast gave me the energy that I needed, not only to walk to the car, but I was able to walk up the steps at the doctor’s building, alone, while Ron was parking the car. As I was walking up those steps, I could hear my head pounding loudly. It felt like it was a machine, trying desperately to pump enough blood into my brain, so it could function properly. I could also hear my heart pounding, loudly. By the time I had made it to the top step, Ron was at my side. We took the elevator to the 2nd floor. As we were walking into the doctor’s waiting room, the doctor saw us and he looked worried.
He quickly had his nurse bring me into an examination room, where she placed me into a wheelchair. She then took a blood sample, to find out how low my hemoglobin count was. But before the results came back, I was rushed to the hospital, where I would have a blood transfusion. When the results came back, my hemoglobin count was down to 4. When Ron saw the doctor, the doctor said, “I’m amazed that your wife was able to walk into my waiting room with such a low hemoglobin count. She should have been dead.”
At the hospital the nurse placed a needle into my arm with a tube attached to it. On the other end of this tube hung a bag with whole blood in it. It took two transfusions, before my hemoglobin count was normal. Once it was, I was taken into the operating room and operated on. When I woke up and I saw my husband, I said, “Do you know Ron that I am not going to die? Because Jesus is here with me.” His reply, “Yes. I know.”
I am so glad that Jesus had given me that strong hunger to read His Word in 1972. As I kept reading His Word, I started trusting and praying to Him more and more. My faith was so strong during this ordeal that I knew that His angels would always be around me for my protection and from any danger. My desire that I have stride for, happened. Jesus became my best friend.
Thank You Holy Spirit for Your protection. I do thank You for giving me that toast that I know,was manna from heaven. I also thank You for sending Your angels around me. So they could hold me up, as they carried me up those stairs at the doctor’s building and helped me, as I walked into that waiting room.
I felt like Elijah did in 1 Kings 19:5-8. As Elijah was sleeping, an angel touched him and told him to get up and eat! He had a long journey ahead of him. When he did, as the angel had instructed him to do, this food gave him enough strength to travel 40 days and 40 nights to Horeb, the mountain of God.
On September 1, 2016, I had another bad crisis. Early that morning, as I was looking into my mirror, I noticed that my tongue was white. I said to myself, “If I don’t get help and go to see a doctor, I’m an idiot.” Since I didn’t own a car, I phoned my friend, asking her, if she would drive me to the emergency clinic? She said that she would. While I was in this clinic’s examination room, a nurse came in. After she had taken my blood pressure and other vital signs, she walked out. A few minutes later, the doctor came it. It was right at that precise time that I had a mild stoke. Thank You Holy Spirit for encouraging me to get help. I’m so glad that I listened. If not, I would have been dead.
I don’t understand, how people can say that Jesus Christ does not exist. They are fools. Nor can I accept it, when a family member tells me, how important it is that family comes first, and that I have to let my religion; which is Christ Jesus take a backseat to it. No, Jesus Christ is not a religion. It is a relationship between me and Him.
Once more, the Holy Spirit had placed a flower onto my rose bush, letting me know that He had everything under control. That summer there was a drought. Because of this, my rose bushes weren’t doing well. I had a rain barrow that I was using, to water my vegetable garden with. Once I noticed that these rose bushes weren’t doing well, I used some of that water for them. Soon, these rose bushes started to thrive. When my rain barrow stated getting empty, I prayed, asking Jesus to fill it back up; which he did.
This one rose bush that was closest to my front door, had a pink flower on it. So I cut it off of that bush and I brought it into the house. The more it grow, the larger the flower grew. I finally got out my tape measure, to see how large it was. It was five inches in diameter. This surprised me, as this rose bush had never had such a large flower on it before. It was then that I took a photograph of it on November 4, 2016. Once more, Lord Jesus was letting me know that He had everything under His control. What a wonderful God, I serve.