Today would have been Jack’s and my 45th anniversary, so when I looked at my FB Memories just now I got to see years’ worth of “Happy Anniversary to Us” memories. And I saw a pattern.
They were all, essentially, some happy-looking version of “We’re still here!”
Not “I love being married to this man.” No “God has blessed me with the best.” None of… all those things I see happy wives post.
Just a “happy” acknowledgement that our marriage had survived another year. Something to make it look like all was going great…without telling an outright lie.
Looking back now, I can see those posts were waving red flags I didn’t even recognize myself. If anyone noticed the pattern, they probably would have suspected our marriage wasn’t all it was supposed to be.
I thought I’d mention it in case someone in your life is quietly waving red flags you’ve been missing.
Have I mentioned lately that I love my life? God is so so good to me!
Terry Naturally, a company whose Adrenaplex® is one of my daily supplements, sent me these samples with my monthly subscription.
I’m not here to review the samples because I haven’t had to use them.
Which is exactly the point of this article.
As I was standing there, seeing them on the counter, I smiled specifically because I DON’T need them. Ever. At all.
This has not always been the case. Twice in my life with Jack I ended up spending a few months on antidepressants. Even when not on the antidepressants, I carried an anti anxiety medication with me for years. Because yes, I needed it.
I took a picture as I stood there specifically because these samples suddenly represented my deliverance from anxiety. And then I spent a few days thinking back, trying to decide when I was finally able to leave it all behind.
I still can’t remember exactly when I stopped using the anti-anxiety meds for anxiety (I found out they were a GREAT antihistamine and did occasionally use them for that for a while), but I believe I found the turning point.
I may be wrong, but I’m pretty sure it was the day I REALLY grasped the necessity of forgiveness. I’d worked on forgiving people for years, and honestly was pretty good at it. But it is admittedly hard to daily, even hourly, forgive a spouse who seems determined to break you. There came a day, though, when I finally, truly, understood that my unforgiveness was destroying me.
Read that again, carefully. MY unforgiveness—my refusal to truly forgive my husband—was destroying ME.
We’ve all heard it said that refusing to forgive someone is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Like so many things, we can agree with the concept in theory while having a terrible time with practical application.
On THAT day I, for the first time, genuinely understood that the choice really was mine. If I were holding a cup of poison and could either drink it or not, the choice would be mine. And that was exactly where I was—holding a cup of poison that was killing me. I could either continue to drink it or I could choose to put it down.
I chose to put it down.
Right there, in that moment.
Over the next hour or so I honestly dealt with my unforgiveness against not only him, but a couple of other people I’d not even realized I was holding out against until God told me. This was deliberate action I took, something in my own heart that I chose to settle.
That decision changed everything.
Before, no matter how hard I tried, I often struggled to forgive Jack and failed. But something changed when I stopped committing to TRY and determined to DO. When I catch myself feeling even a hint of unforgiveness, I squash it. I may battle it for a minute but I refuse to let it live in me.
And I am no longer being destroyed. If I remember correctly, that day actually came only a year or two before Jack passed away. I told someone not long ago that I can’t help but wonder if God didn’t let him live as long as he did specifically so I could reach this place.
That may sound ridiculous, but unforgiveness really is that destructive.
If you deal with anxiety, Terry Naturally’s new product may well help. But if you also struggle to forgive, I guarantee that learning to genuinely forgive will make a huge difference.
But you have to choose not just to try, but to do. And God is ready and waiting to help you do it!
“It’s good to see you like this,” she said. “It’s not normal for anyone to be happy all the time.”
I had thought she was my friend. Her delight in my pain—during what I’ve since recognized as a nervous breakdown—left me stunned.
The truth is that until that season of my life I had always been a happy person. Even though my husband’s behavior was becoming increasingly destructive, I walked in joy most of the time. All of that changed when God gave me a direct command…
and I told Him, “No.”
It wasn’t until recently—while reading The Force of Joy by Alexandria Flint—that I began to understand what had really happened.
We’ve all heard the phrase “the joy of the Lord is your strength” from Nehemiah 8:10. Nehemiah is encouraging Jerusalem’s inhabitants as they grieve over how they’ve sinned against God. He’s assuring them that there is hope.
Alexandria, in the very first pages of her book, digs into the Hebrew words that have been translated as “joy” and “strength.” And these words don’t mean what you probably think they mean!
Multiple Hebrew words are translated as joy in the Old Testament, but this word, chedvah, is special. It’s only used three times: In 1 Chronicles 16:27, Nehemiah 8:10, and Ezra 6:16. Unlike the other Hebrew words that refer to outward expressions of joy, Chedvah refers to the overflowing delight that comes only from being in God’s presence.
I love the way Alexandria explains it:
Think of it like this: chedvah is a deep root system buried in the richness of God’s character, and all those other expressions of joy (simchah, sasson, gil) are the flowers that bloom from that root. You can have beautiful flowers for a season, but if there’s no root system, the first storm that rages by will wipe them out.
The more I thought about chedvah, particularly in reference to that horrible season of my life, the more I understood why 1) I’d always been such a happy person and 2) I suddenly was not.
I’d always been happy because I intentionally lived close to God. I stayed in His presence through prayer, reading my Bible, worship… And being constantly in His presence—the very source of joy—I lived joyously.
But, on the day I refused to obey God’s clear and direct instructions regarding my involvement in a specific ministry, I did what we all instinctively do. I stepped back.
I couldn’t stay in His presence while choosing disobedience. The conviction would have been too much. I didn’t want to hear what He had to say… so I turned away.
I was no longer anchored in that flow of joy—and I was no longer protected by it. While living in God’s presence, with my focus on Him, I was able to handle my husband’s behavior, but suddenly I saw everything… every… little… thing that he did.
I couldn’t handle it. And I started to spiral.
“The joy of the Lord is your strength.”
I had no strength, which is hardly surprising, but in losing that joy I lost more than strength. Much more!
The word translated as “strength” is ma’owz, and although it appears 37 times in the Old Testament this is the only place it appears as “strength.” In other locations, it’s translated as “stronghold,” “refuge,” “fortress,” and “protection.”
It’s a military term.
The joy of the Lord, that joy that comes from being in God’s presence, is your stronghold, your refuge, your fortress, and your protection!
That is what I stepped away from when I backed away from God!
I’ve spent days talking to God about this.
Think about Psalm 91 and all it promises to the one who dwells in the secret place of the Most High. When you grasp the truth of the joy of the Lord being your “strength,” this psalm becomes even more significant.
Even now, I’ve been literally sitting here with my head in my hands as I work to absorb all of this. And I’m reminded of a vision God gave me when our oldest was a baby.
At church, during worship, God showed me a woman standing on a rock in the middle of a stormy sea.
Although her dress was wind-blown and waves beat against the rock, she stood confidently. God told me then that I could be that woman, one who could stand strong through any storm.
He didn’t tell me how to become that woman. He just told me to stay close to Him.
And, as it turns out, that is exactly what it takes.
As I live in God’s presence, I live in joy that can only be found in Him, and that joy protects me in ways I may never recognize.
And what about that friend, you ask? As I recall, we parted ways not long after. But I will say this; her heartless words were part of what woke me up. God used them to get my attention and draw me back to Him—back into obedience and back into His presence, His joy, and His protection.
There’s no place I’d rather be than in His presence, His joy, and His protection.
“When God gave me a revelation of forever, of eternity, everything changed.”
After sending this message to a group of friends, I sat back and thanked God, for perhaps the thousandth time, for giving me a revelation of forever, for helping me grasp eternity. That moment of thankfulness led to a conversation about the difference between understanding and revelation.
You can have both.
We gain understanding in many ways— through study, through logic and reason… We gain understanding of God’s Word through spending time with it, meditating on it, digging into it, leaning on the Holy Spirit as our teacher…
Revelation is something different: It comes directly from God, and it bypasses the requirement for understanding. Where understanding acquaints you with truth, revelation confronts you with it.
One day at church camp I was in chapel listening to the minister and came to that moment. I’d heard enough about salvation that I knew the basics, but I didn’t really understand it. Nonetheless, in an instant the conviction settled in my soul.
Without a doubt, I knew I needed to be saved so I stepped into the aisle. It wasn’t an emotional thing; it was more a logical reaction to sudden knowledge. I didn’t even comprehend the magnitude of my decision until I saw my camp counselor crying.
Much later, I came to the realization that what I’d experienced was revelation knowledge. It was communication straight from God that convinced me of my need for salvation. I didn’t have to understand it. I didn’t even have to feel anything. I simply knew the truth, acted on the truth, and my life changed in an instant. There have been several times in my walk with God that He has given me such revelation and changed things instantly.
There have also been at least two times I specifically asked God for revelation on things I was desperate to comprehend. The first was the Rapture of the Church. Witnessing was hard for me and I felt that if I could just grasp the truth of the Rapture, and the reality of people missing it, I would be more driven to witness.
After a time, God gave me that revelation. And after the revelation, as I studied, I also gained understanding.
The same happened with forever. I’d had my blog “Eternally Planted” for years. The title is based off part of Ecclesiastes 3:11 in the NLT: “…He has planted eternity in the human heart…” Eternity is planted inside us even if we fail to recognize it. I think that’s why so many believe in reincarnation—because man has an instinctive knowledge that this life isn’t everything.
When I named my blog what I did, I had some understanding of forever, but at some point I realized I needed revelation. So I asked God for it. It didn’t come instantly, but one day God dropped it into my spirit in a way that lit up my world—and it changed everything about the way I saw my life.
I’d been married to my narcissistic husband for decades and was now responsible for keeping him alive and healthy, or as healthy as I could when he seemed intent on destroying his body. Every day was a struggle and my stress level stayed dangerously high. So this wasn’t a theoretical lesson. It came in the middle of a very real, very heavy season.
But then there was that day. In an instant, I suddenly had it. I knew in my innermost being that this life is nothing compared to the life I will have in eternity. That very hour, I told God that, if I had to live the rest of my life as I had been, it was ok. Because in light of eternity, this life is only ten minutes—and I can do anything for ten minutes.
Life didn’t get easier, but my focused changed. I was no longer looking at what was directly in front of me, but at what is waiting down the road. When you suddenly see a broad, beautiful vista ahead, walking becomes less frustrating and more of a challenge you’re willing to face.
We need understanding, obviously. But we also need revelation, and the beautiful thing is that God is ready and willing to give it. For me, it normally comes after He’s highlighted something I’m reading in the Word, after I’ve taken time to meditate on it, mull it over, and spend time talking to Him about it as I grow increasingly hungry for answers.
My story: I spent over 40 years married to a narcissist who, although I didn’t realize it, was abusing me in one way and another much of the time.
I loved him: It was emotion-based love in the beginning. But by the time he’d killed the emotion I’d learned to love him by choice.
Here’s the thing:
He was a Christian. Yes, I understand the contradiction. How could someone who had accepted Jesus as Savior ever abuse another person, especially their spouse and kids? They do it, I believe, by accepting Jesus as Savior, but not as Lord.
Jack told me once, when I was talking about seeking God’s will on something I wanted to do, that he believed we were to make our own decisions and God would bless them. I was stunned, left totally speechless. I didn’t even try to argue with him both because I’d already learned that there was no arguing with him and because I was so completely blown away by his… Hubris is an old-fashioned word that applies well here.
To me, that one statement best illustrates that he, while accepting Jesus as Savior, was determined to be lord of his own life.
He served God. He did all the right things. I believe he actually spent several seasons being right with God – as much as he could be while not being right with me. Our friends and his co-workers thought they knew Jack. Over the years, more people began to see through the cracks in his carefully crafted image, but not many.
After he died, you could tell who had a clue and who didn’t by how they reacted – not just to his death, but to my decision not to have a memorial service, and to my lack of reaction. What few tears I did cry in those first days were based mostly on the sudden release from bondage. More tears did come later, though.
He was a gifted photographer, and while going through his photographs in the next few weeks I found myself truly crying, bawling, for the first time. I wasn’t crying over the man I’d been married to for 41 years. I was crying over the man I’d thought I was marrying, the man I’d seemed to catch glimpses of on occasion. I was crying over the man God had intended for him to be.
Which brings me to the revelation that hit me out of the blue at some point in the last few weeks.
I know Jack was right with God when he died. Based on things that happened in the months leading up to his death, I know God was dealing with him. For instance, he went to the altar more times in those months than he had in the entire time we’d been married. That sudden humility and hunger was noticed by more than just me.
Then there came the day he asked me to pray the prayer of salvation with him. He’d spent years making it clear that he knew more than me about everything. Any time I shared something exciting God had shown me, of course he already knew it and it was no big deal. His ego was huge. For him to come to me for that prayer was a bigger deal than even I understood.
While lying in the ER for the last time, he broke the silence to say, “I don’t want to be here.” I reassured him, told him we hoped it wouldn’t be long. But I’ve since come to believe I misunderstood what he was really saying.
I think he meant he was ready to put off this life and go home. I think he’d decided he would rather leave while he knew he was right with God than fight for a life in which he would most likely fail again.
I asked God once, and He assured me that yes, Jack is in Heaven.
Do you know what that means?
It means that, when I get there, I will get to know the real Jack Cardwell – the man God had intended him to be. I WILL know Jack.
That’s the revelation. I will one day get to know the Jack Cardwell we were all supposed to have, and we’ll be friends for eternity. That makes me very happy.
One of my TikTok videos resulted in a strong response from victims of narcissist abuse. That response led me to take my Surviving Narcissism series, at least in part, to the app.
My goal in life, and on TikTok (@tmcardwell), is to help people grow in their relationships with God and the Bible. While I’d planned to focus primarily on things like Bible study and growing closer to God, I’ve discovered that being there for domestic abuse victims is part of God’s plan. Some of the responses I’ve received are heartbreaking; there are so many out there who have had no hope.
Interestingly, recording this series has made me aware of something I hadn’t fully realized. I think it’s human nature to want to simply put the past behind us and move forward. To an extent that’s exactly what I had done.
God and I have covered a lot of ground in the three years since Jack passed away. But I realized this past week that we’ve definitely not covered it all. Why?
Because healing takes time.
As I talked about how my attempts to “protect” my sons by keeping the family together actually exposed them to their own life-altering trauma, those old wounds I thought were healed opened right back up. Yeah. They were still there, waiting to be dealt with.
So I pulled out a book I reviewed for this series in April of last year. You can read my review of Hope for Healing from Domestic Abuse if you like. I recommend you do if you’re dealing with the results of domestic abuse of any sort. I’ll just say here that this book is helping me all over again as I reread it.
The fact is, healing from any trauma takes time. Recovering from this type of trauma can take a very long time. We can try to ignore our pain, issues, and triggers. Sometimes we can even get away with it for a while. But until we deal with the damage, we’re being held back.
I’ve wondered, at times, if I should seek counseling. I haven’t, because I know I’ve definitely made progress. God has faithfully brought up my issues as I reach the place where I can deal with them.
If you’re still recovering, though – or trying to – know that there is absolutely no shame in seeking professional help. God gave us counselors and therapists for a reason, and sometimes they have the very support we need.
Whatever path you choose to take towards healing, please hear me: There is hope. Real healing is possible. I’m living proof.
Be patient with yourself and give every part of the process to God. Every part: especially the unforgiveness and bitterness that only poison us, no matter how justified they feel. Take it one step at a time.
And celebrate those steps. They matter. And those of us who have also walked this road will happily celebrate with you.
Celebrating Jesus! Tammy C
The following is a complete list of the articles in this series.
I shared previously about Charlie Kirk’s death and how it had affected me. I’m sort of doing the same today.
As I watched new convert after new convert post on social media, particularly TikTok, I prayed for them. I asked God to protect them from wolves in sheep’s clothing, give them wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, etc. Essentially, I asked Him to give them the help they need as they grow in Him.
I should have expected what was coming next. When we become aware of a need it’s usually because He wants us to help meet it. He asked me a question:
“So how are you going to help them?”
Eventually I got the picture. He expects me to help in greater ways than I have been. God wants me to get out there to the people instead of waiting for them to find me. There are several facets to this new focus, but a big one is TikTok.
I’ve had an account for years and enjoyed following a variety of people, supporting them with my likes and comments. I soon realized what when God asked the question He was preparing my assignment. One thing He wanted was for me to become active on TikTok, to share the light in that place.
I’m a word person. I write books. I blog. I offer a newsletter. But, though I once spoke at homeschool conferences, I had zero experience in this new type of communication. The whole idea intimidated me so much that I asked a dear friend to be praying for me. I felt like He expected more than I was capable of.
Lesson Relearned: Never underestimate God’s ability to make you able.
This feels like one of those times when He is qualifying the called instead of calling the qualified. Nonetheless, things are going well. Every day I learn new things, which is a miracle given the mental issues I dealt with only a few years ago. (Trauma does that to you.)
You can find me @tmcardwell if you’re interested.
While I don’t yet know what I should consider excellent where engagement is concerned, I’m happy with what I’m seeing. And you know what? I’m having fun.
I’m also genuinely helping people. Not everything shows up publicly, but the private conversations show I’m on the right path. Most importantly, I know I’m doing what He asked me to do. And, really, that’s all He requires – simple obedience.
So let me offer you a word of encouragement today. If God tells you to do something that seems impossible, take His word for it and step out. No matter what it looks like, He knows what He’s talking about. And when He calls you to do something He will equip you to get it done.
I mentioned trauma in passing, but it’s a significant side note. Trauma can destroy you but, no matter how broken you are, God can restore what you’ve lost!
After Charlie Kirk was assassinated, I witnessed what can only be called a spiritual revolution on TikTok. Between posts and comments, I saw hundreds of people who hadn’t even had God on their radar suddenly coming to Jesus.
Something supernatural was happening – still is.
I’ve tried to support and comment on these posts as much as I could, and I’ve prayed. Oh, how I’ve prayed. I’ve been concerned for these newborn Christians because those are ones the devil so likes to attack, to draw into deception.
At some point last month, it seemed like God was asking me, “So how are you going to help them?”
Um…
I’ve been a lurker on the clock app for years. Well, not really a lurker, because as I said I comment and support. I’ve come to appreciate a great many of these creators. But becoming one of them – putting myself out there and making TikToks – was another thing entirely.
I couldn’t conceive of it. Oh, I could in theory like the idea, but when it came to seriously considering following through and doing it… That was a different story. Besides, God hadn’t come out and told me to start creating; He’d just asked how I was going to help.
Then it happened. Suddenly my FYP was filled with creators talking about creating. One explained that you don’t always have to do videos; you can post text and photos too. So I did one – a picture of my book with a brief explanation – and felt pretty good about it. So I did another. And another.
Don’t get too excited: As of right now I’ve only done five TikTok posts and about as many stories.
If you read yesterday’s article, When God Grows Your Faith, you know God has asked me to do some things lately that seemed impossible. This was one of them. He eventually did ask me to start creating on TikTok. For real.
So for real, if you’re interested, you can find me @tmcardwell. I post as Tammy M. Cardwell Author.
But back to my story. God was merciful on this one, leading me into this new thing gently and not giving me my assignment until I was at least relatively comfortable. But there is an assignment, and I am working on it.
I’ve ordered my light, and I’m waiting for my video expert friend to recommend the right mic for my budget. He won’t be able to come help me stage for these videos until after the first of the year, I don’t think, but once I have the tools and know how to use them, I’ll start working with what I’ve got.
In the meantime, I’m working on ideas.
Like I said yesterday, the Christian life is all about walking by faith. It’s trusting that when God tells you to do something He’s already got the road mapped out in front of you. All you have to do is listen and, as Isaiah 30:21 tells us:
“You will hear a word spoken behind you, saying, ‘This is the correct way, walk in it,’ whether you are heading to the right or the left.”
Random Note: I can never read those words without flashing back to Gandalf with his hand on Frodo’s shoulder, telling him which way to go.
Each step may seem uncertain, but with each step I take I see God proving Himself faithful. He’s turning what once felt impossible into “done.”
Do you ever think about those who have especially impacted your life?
For me, while untold numbers of people have helped me grow, three people stand out, people who have left eternal marks on my soul and had a definite impact on the direction my spiritual walk has taken. What strikes me about all three is that they weren’t preaching at me. They were simply living their witness.
Three People Who Changed My Walk
The Best Friend – Joy in the Spirit Marilyn, my best friend, never tried to “sell” me on anything. She simply shared her excitement about what God was doing in her life. I’d been saved years earlier but wasn’t actively living like a Christian. I was what I call a “cultural Christian” at that point.
Her joy stirred a hunger that made me face my mostly in name only Christianity and recognize its inadequacy, how little it satisfied me. She expected me to get excited too, and I did.
The Stranger – Baptism in the Holy Ghost At a Christian Student Union meeting Ms. Jeannie, a woman I’d never met, taught me about and led me into the baptism in the Holy Ghost. She was our speaker that night and I could tell she was like my best friend in that she had “it.” In spite of my introversion and insecurity, I’d gathered my courage and asked her, “What is the baptism in the Holy Ghost?”
The conversation we had, and the prayer we prayed, changed my life forever. And I’m happy to be able to report that she became a dear friend and is still a vital influence in my life.
The Evangelist – Intimacy with God The last of my three, Jesse Duplantis, is an evangelist. His messages are always great, but his almost casual references to his conversations with God made me hunger for that kind of walk:
“I want that type of relationship with You, God! You’re no respecter of persons. I want that intimate relationship too!”
So I got in the Word more, prayed more, and focused on listening for His “voice,” God speaking directly to my spirit. Over time, that intimacy became my reality – and I love how we talk to each other all day long.
The 1 Thessalonians 5:17 command to pray without ceasing? This is it. Yes, I have a set time that I know I’ll be praying, talking to God about things that matter to us both, but the conversation doesn’t stop there.
The Quiet Power of Living Faith
Other than Brother Jesse, these are normal people you’ll most likely never meet, but their influences in my life still affect how I live and what I share with others.
And those key people reached me not through preaching at me, but by letting me see the reality of God in their lives, by giving me glimpses of possibilities I’d not imagined.
They also taught me one of the most important things about sharing the Gospel.
We start by living it.
Marilyn, Ms. Jeannie, Brother Jesse… “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.” Philippians 1:3
Last Saturday we had our annual crawfish boil and auction. It’s a massive fundraising event that provides the bulk of what we need for our many missions and outreach projects. The devil hates Operation BAM (The umbrella organization) and every year I remind my teams to keep the auction and everyone involved with it – our whole church, actually – in prayer because one thing that is consistent where this event it concerned is demonic attack.
This year we faced those attacks on a whole new level; members of our congregation were hit so often and so hard that I knew we were about to see something truly supernatural. The attacks kept on to even the day of, when a vital app crashed and required our silent auction team to pivot and make it work the old fashioned way.
That’s the big picture. Now mine.
At the end of March/early April, I discovered two things: Gnats had found their way into my apartment and I am terribly allergic to gnat bites. We started doing what we could to get rid of the gnats, and are still working on getting rid of them. (Many people have told me they’re exceptionally bad this year.) I also attacked my physical symptoms with everything I could – under my primary care’s supervision.
At one point, my chest and neck might as well have been one massive welt. Controlling the itch was a constant, 24/7 issue. At night, I was waking up every hour or hour and a half practically clawing my skin off, jumping up to re-medicate, suffering until the itching eased, and then trying to get a little sleep before it started again. In other words, I went weeks getting maybe three hours of sleep a night.
At the same time, I was taking massive doses of antihistamine. I was taking so much antihistamine that there was no way I could hydrate sufficiently. It was only near the end of this traumatic time that I remembered things like Liquid IV; I wasn’t thinking overly clearly. No surprise there; if you know anything about the dangers of sleep deprivation and dehydration, you can imagine where I was physically and emotionally. Actually, and mentally.
Demonic attack. Seriously.
This whole time, I was doing my part to prepare for the auction. This is part of my calling, and I intended to get the job done. I knew it was an attack, and I wasn’t going to let the devil win.
That last week before the auction was the worst. I was truly sick the whole week. In fact, there was a point at which I admitted, only to myself, that I might not make it through the whole week, much less through the event itself. Everything I did was a struggle, because I was physically drained and wasn’t able to think straight, and I was so concerned about making mistakes that I had someone check my work periodically. In point of fact, I did make some mistakes that I’ve had to clean up.
But I refused to give up the fight.
When God gives you an important assignment, the devil is going to try to distract you, derail you, stop you. I know this, and I was determined to give everything I had even if that everything wasn’t enough. I did make it through the week, and through the auction (with an unbelievably massive headache that didn’t respond to any medication), praying and relying on God to help me. I did what a good soldier does on the battlefield. I kept on fighting, moving forward one step at a time, convinced that God was in the process of working miracles. And He did.
We raised just under $200,000.00.
That sounds like a massive amount of money, and it is. The specific number was $197,500 which, if I remember correctly, is about $30,000 higher than our highest year to date. BAM stands for Be A Miracle, and this will enable us to be a miracle to even more people, more organizations, and more disaster areas than we ever have. And I was part of it!
Because I kept fighting.
The gnats are still around, though they don’t get in my apartment quite so easily now and the trap and spray I’m using pretty much kills them when they do. I also, thanks to the suggestion of a wise friend, bought a mosquito net for my bed and that’s kept me from being bitten while I slept. Now that it’s not being constantly irritated by new bites, my skin is clearing up and I’m definitely healing. Thursday night, for the first time in a month, I slept eight hours, and I’ve slept at least eight hours a night since then. This morning, driving to church, I realized that I finally felt right again – totally rested, thinking clearly, genuinely ready for another day.
All because I refused to give in and denied the devil the victory. As bad as it got, I won because I kept fighting.
