No Fear

I was dreaming. It was a good dream too. I was on a beach snapping pictures, when suddenly the ground beneath me gave way and I found myself falling down a hole of darkness. Wake up! I heard. My eyes immediately shot open, panic embracing me as it always does during such times of chaos. What just happened? Why can’t I breathe? The ventilator keeps turning off and on, giving no air whatsoever. I have no idea what is going on other than the fact that I am suffocating fast. I have no ability to even utter a syllable, let alone call for help. An event like this typically rolls around every few months when I least anticipate it. It’s always a simple matter of something coming disconnected, though. Not this time. Did I mention I am struggling more than ever with coming off my ventilator? It’s just par for the course of SMA, which I pray will improve once I begin the new treatment. I can barely come off for 3 minutes now. Is this it? NO! I will not die tonight! I will fight until I can’t fight anymore! So I did. My only hope was that when my oxygen and heart rate began to drop low, the nurse would start investigating. So I just had to wait. And I did. The problem is when oxygen saturations drop so low, it’s like drowning slowly. The machine started alarming and the nurse ran in my room. You could say I was nearing the point of no return, but I was still fighting. She uncovered my eyes but I couldn’t respond. She called for Mom who came to the rescue as always. Typically upon oxygen restoration I am an emotional wreck. This was different, though, because I had already determined that God would get me through this. It’s amazing when you know that God has a purpose for you because he literally gave me strength that I never had to hang on.

The battle to survive lies in trusting an almighty God who has a perfect plan, along with having enough tenacity to not let Satan have the upper hand in producing fear. The victory lies in understanding that, whether I live or not, I win either way! Conquer fear and you can conquer anything in this life. Make Satan mad and let go of the fear weighing you down today.

If you need me, I’ll be resting.


Amber Stewart


Today is Palm Sunday and I’m home still with no forseeable end to quarantine in sight. I’m really doing good though. We all know I’m a serious overthinker, and today I’ve been pondering the upcoming Easter holiday and how I’ll still be here in my home basically in isolation. Easter and Christmas are undoubtedly my most favorite holidays, so much so that I’ve dedicated my life to sharing the hope found in Christ Jesus with as much of the world as possible. If pressed, Easter is more favored due to the warm weather. The older I get, to worse I do in the cold. I literally feel sick from it. But as long as God allows me to organize Candy Cane Kids operations from my computer, I will do it. It’s always hard and stressful and few people help but somehow we make it work and it’s always worth the service. What about that word? Service. What a beautiful thing. It ultimately makes our world go round. I help you, you help me. You pay people for their service and they pay you for your’s. Jesus lived a life of service and asked nothing from anyone. We need money to survive though. I’m extatic that my Broken & Beautiful Art has given me another outlet to be of service and share hope and even make a little money. So I guess I’ll finish this post with a question: how may I be of service? I have a body that doesn’t work but a heart that always wants to give. Can I make you something beautiful? Can I pray for you? Do you just need someone to talk to? I’m available. I can’t do much but I’ll do what I can. This world is dark and cold and I’m at your service! Help me fulfill my destiny and who knows? Maybe I can help you fulfill your’s.



I See Angels

I have decided to share a small passage of my biography that I will publish one of these days, followed by something new.

“Few people realize the profound part angelic forces play in human events.” – Billy Graham

Why is it that so many people view angels as scary beings when most haven’t even encountered such things? That isn’t how I remember them at all…

I’m afraid my angelic encounters may be a tad dull: there were no bright lights, loud noises, or flying acrobatics involved. They looked like any normal person would, but wearing white. I mistook them for doctors the first time I saw them; I was laying in my bed during one of the many hospital stays when the chances of me making it through the night were quite slim. I can’t recall the reason for that specific hospital stay, or how old I was at the time. All I remember was how sick I was – the kind of sick where it hurt just to move. I was trying to rest my eyes but seemed restless, so I opened my eyes to see two women in white robes standing beside my bed. They didn’t speak or even move; they just stood smiling at me. I liked them being there, which was odd because whenever doctors paid me a visit it usually meant I was going to have to do something I didn’t want to do, like undergo tests or other unpleasant duties. This was different though. I somehow felt better with them around. I was quite young at the time and in my young tongue I said “Mommy, who are those ladies?” When she asked what ladies, I replied in my confusion “those ladies in the white robes, right there… Don’t you see them?” The next time I looked up, they were gone. The next two meetings were when I was 7 years old, right before I got my trach and was in the hospital. What you don’t know is that the main reason my doctors and family decided to trach me was because every time I sat up I stopped breathing. That was a time when everything was touch and go, and they didn’t know if the next breath would be my last. One night, though, my mom wanted to get me up and in the bath since I hadn’t left my bed in a while. So they brought me, IV’s and all, into the bathroom and put me in the bath; and there they were again, standing there in the doorway. The same two sweet women I met a few hospital visits ago were simply smiling at me, and when I asked who they were, I got the same answer as the last time: there was no one there. Another evening during that same period in A.I. DuPont before I got my trach, my mom sat down to read me a new Barnie book she had bought a few days back. When she got ready to read it, though, I said “you don’t have to read that, Mommy. Sister Lindsey read that to me last night.” Was it simply the hallucinations of a gravely ill child? Most scientists would think so; but whether or not one believes it, some in this world, for reasons unknown to man, are given the privilege of receiving a small taste of Heaven while being cared for and lulled to sleep by perfect beings best described as angels. I have a spiritual connection that many cannot understand. I recently went under anesthesia to have a procedure done on my hips to reduce pain, and while asleep I had what seemed like a Heavenly experience. I was in a very bright room with Jesus Christ and an angel. I was so happy to be in His presence, and He encouraged me and told me that I was doing a great job and He had much more wonderful things in store for me, so I should go back to life and get back to work. I realize that to some these accounts may seem utterly insane, and that’s OK. I know they really happened. Why would the God of the universe choose me to get a small taste of Heaven? I still don’t know, but every experience is one that I cherish.


Now, fast forward to today.

My family and I have been going through a very difficult time… Worse than I would ever care to share. But just to skim the surface:

My brother has moved to North Carolina with his children who I love with everything in me.

I’m constantly getting weaker and my surgery that will allow me to start getting the SMA treatment Spinraza injections has been postponed until who knows when…

And then there’s this apocolyptic virus that could kill individuals like myself who are immunocompromised and medically fragile.

I can’t even find a bottle of blasted cough syrup (calm down, I just get stuffy some nights from a MRSA flair up!) because everyone in hysteria have bought everything they don’t even need. Then I can’t buy the things I need.

There are angels in my home and now I’m not the only one that sees them.

After my aid left at 6p Saturday evening, it was just me, Momma, Dad, and my Maw-maw together for the night. So we watched movies and played games. Maw-maw headed to bed around 9 but I like to stay up and my amazing parents try to oblige me as best they can. Dad was upstairs doing some work on his computer while Mom was getting me ready to go to bed. She had just transferred me into the bathroom to relieve myself. It was around 10:30 at night. She was taking my equipment into my bedroom when suddenly she ran into the bathroom with this shocked look on her face. I immediately asked what’s wrong. Her response: I think I just saw an angel! Of course I am shocked because I’m the angel seeer in the family and part of me feared that my beloved Momma overlooked some psycho home invader. But she knew. An angel was standing guard over my basement, arms crossed. At first she thought it was my father messing with her but then she got closer to the lowest stair landing and clearly saw that it wasn’t him. She was shocked and excited and felt a little crazy but of course I believed her. Shortly thereafter she got me in my bed and my Dad came down. When we don’t have a night nurse, my parents sleep downstairs with me and I really love for all three of us to pray together before lights go out. So they both gathered around my bed, getting ready for prayer. Mom looked at Daddy and said “I just had the craziest thing happen to me!” Dad cut in, saying “you saw it too?” Then he shared with us how he saw a presence pass over the upstairs, on its way downstairs, at the same time my mother had her own experience. And we all felt and continue to feel such a strong sense of peace since that night, knowing that God has sent His finest warriors to our little home to watch over us… To watch over me. I’m humbled and in awe of God’s goodness to me.

In the midst of these turbulant times, trust that God is in control. And keep your eyes peeled.


Image result for Abraham Hunter A place to call home

I love puzzles. It’s good exercise for my mind. I just finished this one: 300 pieces done in 200 minutes. That’s a new record! I need to find a website with larger puzzles.

Putting puzzles together helps me feel calm when life is out of control. It helps me feel in control of something. I can take a screen full of chaos and make something beautiful of it. That’s also how I feel when I create things for my micro business Broken & Beautiful Art. The world can and, is, self destructing, but if I can make beauty from the ashes of everything, I’m happy. I find purpose in that. Puzzles are sort of an anchor for my mind when it’s racing 1000 miles per hour about 100 different situations and scenarios, most of which haven’t even happened. I thank God daily for giving me a sound mind, but sometimes I wish I could slow it down a little because I overanalyze anything and everything. I’m a problem solver – if you can’t climb that wall, find a way through. I’m constantly thinking of ways to improve upon my daily care and keep everything running smoothly 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Some days are complete disasters due to factors outside of my control, and I feel vulnerable. I really hate that feeling. So I read and put together puzzles because it changes my perspective to see that God is in control and my mountains are molehills in the grand scheme of life.

The people of planet Earth are currently going through things that seem better suited for a science fiction novel. A pandemic called the Coronavirus has entered the scene and left a ginormous path of destruction wherever it goes. People are scared and helpless. Many are out of work due to government mandated shut downs. Markets are empty and for some reason people really love toilet paper. I will tell you why many are fighting over miniscule items: they feel helpless and have a desperate need to be in control of something, anything… Even if it’s a darn bottle of hand sanitizer.

The Coronavirus is a respiratory illness that, in healthy individuals, can manifest itself in flu-like symptoms such as (but not limited to):

  • Runny nose
  • Sore throat
  • Cough
  • Fever
  • Pneumonia

I am immunocompromised and have a fragile respiratory system. I may as well have a tattoo on my forehead saying come at me COVID-19. I picture this virus as the Terminator with both barrels loaded saying I’ll be back. I am taking every precaution possible to stay virus free, but I still feel rather helpless about the risk of getting sick. I can’t control this situation which leaves me feeling frustrated and vulnerable. But you know what? According to doctors I should have died twenty-seven years ago and I have defied every single odd thrown my way. Science can’t explain how I’ve not only survived but thrived in 29 years. Even physicans have to call me a medical miracle! God has carried me through moments where I should have died time and time again, which makes me think that His purpose for me is bigger than I could ever imagine.

God has sustained me for twenty-nine years and I truly don’t think He will stop now. BUT if that is His will, He is still good!!! Read that again. This world is in a disasterous downward spiral indeed, but God is all about taking disasters and turning them into glorious tapestries that radiate His love. There’s only one catch: we must let go of what we think we can control in this life and give Him the reigns.

I can control very little in this life, but I refuse to allow that to dictate my joy. God knew about the Coronavirus before I was concieved in my sweet mother’s womb. He knows the number of hairs on my head, how many sleepless nights I’ll ever have, and how many victories I will ever have through Him. He is never surprised. So once again I enjoy taking the back seat in life and just let God use me for His glory. It really is the most wonderful adventure! You should try it. Now, I think I’ll find a new puzzle to solve. Bye for now…


Perhaps my favorite aspect of the Christian faith is that God pushes us to be resilient for Him. I think that some of the best parts of my life thus far have derived from times when I couldn’t imagine going on another minute and I heard God whisper “keep pushing!” If you truly love the Lord, I feel you have to build up a spirit of tenacity to counterbalance Satan’s never-ending schemes. Maybe the old Devil doesn’t bother you that much, but we go round and round on the daily. The battle has evolved into a dance of sorts: guessing his next move and stepping accordingly. I don’t always dance well and get knocked down quite frequently, but I get back up every time. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” Christ didn’t call us to surrender at the first sign of trouble. God gave us brains but we fail to use them to find solutions when we face obstacles. We humans are notorious for believing our circumstances can’t get any worse when in actuality we can make them better through determination and a positive outlook. Life is what you make it.

In Mark 2 (and Matthew 9 and Luke 5 for that matter) we read about a quadriplegic man who had great friends that wouldn’t give up on him when I assure you he had given up on himself. For you see, Jesus was in Capernaum preaching. Imagine you desperately need a judicial pardon and the president just happens to come to your town for one day only. You’d sacrifice everything just to have a chance to talk to him.

Tonight, when you lie in bed trying to go to sleep, do me a favor and lie completely still. Don’t move one muscle, don’t scratch one itch. It’s hard. Living in a body that doesn’t work is not for the faint of heart, and we can assume from scriptures that this man had lived a relatively long life in a disabled state. I can testify as an incredibly medically fragile individual that without the hope of Christ life is very bleak. This unnamed man didn’t know Jesus yet but had heard stories of this Messiah who could remove sin and restore sight to the blind. He had four friends and nothing to lose. His friends probably woke him up that morning, cleaned him up, loaded him up on a gurney, and headed out for an adventure! But alas, Christ wasn’t preaching in a large synagogue, but a very small, non-ADA house. The crowd was crazy, everyone shoving to get a better view. They didn’t care that he was crippled, he was just in the way. What if it was cold and/or rainy? All the more worse. Time to pack it up and go home. They’d tried and failed. Here is where the story gets good: the group buckled down – all five of them – and decided they wouldn’t accept defeat that day. In what well may have taken hours, the four able-bodied men hoisted their friend to the roof and, as if they weren’t tired enough, dug a gurney-sized hole in the roof of this very small house Jesus was preaching in and lowered him into the house because it was worth everything if Christ could help their friend. This certainly wasn’t an easy task for this disabled man either, for he had to trust his four brothers to literally deliver his life safely into the hands of Jesus. The best part? His faith made him whole. “(Jesus said) ‘I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy bed, and go thy way into thine house.’ And immediately he arose, took up the bed, and went forth before them all; insomuch that they were all amazed, and glorified God, saying, We never saw it on this fashion.”

God likes to show off. God likes to use weak people to show His strength. God likes when we stand tall in the middle of a hurricane proclaiming “God has brought me this far and will not leave me now!” God appreciates and awards our resilience. And it’s worth every tear to have the King of the universe in your corner. With that you can move mountains and face every Goliath that comes your way.

It’s OK if you’ve been knocked down a thousand times. Now is the time to rise.

Power in Prayer

What if the greatest power in this world isn’t found in governments or violence or even religion, but in living in constant communication with the unseen God of the universe?

When people know that I talk to God, they think that’s sweet. When I tell them He talks back, they think I’m crazy. But He does. All the time. Is that weird? I’ve known His voice for as far back as I can remember. I was raised in an Evangelical Christian home with a core believe that prayer is powerful. My father has been a Southern Gospel singer my entire life and I learned songs with messages like “when you don’t feel like praying, pray” and “I’ve never said a prayer He couldn’t answer.” I was encouraged to be a mountain mover and I have moved so many mountains through faith. When I have had mysterious health problems throughout life, church family and my Pastor have prayed over me and say what want but it helps. If there was ever someone who believed in the power of prayer, it’s me.

And it has saved my life too many times to count.

When a nurse put my trach in upside down.
When an aid dropped me in the floor (while in the hoyer lift – don’t ask).
Or that one little heart attack-ish scare.

Or nights like yesterday.

Life is so fragile. Please cherish it. So many would give anything to be in your shoes and it could always be worse. Did you know that most living individuals with Spinal Muscular Atrophy type 1 can’t speak or hold their bladder/bowels (TMI?) like I can? They just lay there, unable to move or speak, trapped inside their healthy mind. I have to work with caregivers who don’t always take the time to listen to me and on the hard days it’s its own kind of Hell. Your life is not as bad as Satan would like you to believe. I promise.

Yesterday was awesome! Seriously. I made three art sales, met a fellow (very talented) artist, spent time with a dear friend, and drank good coffee, all while sharing Jesus. This is what I live for!

I should have known that I’d done made that old Devil mad again. He came knocking with reinforcements, ready for a battle.

It was late. I’d been out all day and hadn’t eaten anything, and I’m a very slow eater. I don’t sleep good at night anyway so it’s whatever. After that and night neb treatment it was past midnight. I was all ready for bed, I only had to be transferred via hoyer lift to the bathroom and finally to bed. No problem, until my series of unfortunate events began. It started when the portable ventilator decided to fall of the lift and come disconnected. Then one piece got lost and my nurse couldn’t put everything back together fast enough. Thankfully she went and pulled my stationary ventilator in just as I was just on the verge of losing consciousness. Imagine drowning and finally coming up for air. I feel like my entire body convulses. Everything hurts. It takes time to rebound from an experience like that. What matters is I was safe, up until she went to transfer me to bed. That was when the stationary ventilator came disconnected in three different places. Both vents are down and I’m hanging in this evil machine that literally squeezes the air out of me. Game over. I need air. Someone help me please! Is this the end? Is it my time to leave this world? Right before everything went back I distinctly heard that lovely voice of God whisper I brought you this far, I won’t leave you now. Then I went somewhere else. I don’t know where, but I’ve been there before. It’s peaceful. And then God said “wake up now.” I came to in my bed with my father standing over me, pumping air into my lungs with an emergency ambu bag. Poor Momma was so upset she was sick. Then the sheer panic of what had just happened hit me like a 100lb weight. I cried, they held me, and we prayed.

I thank God daily for giving me such amazing parents. I thank God they were home and heard the nurse screaming for help. I thank God for the many people who pray for me every day without asking anything of me or seeing God answering their prayers. But believe me when I tell you that God hears every single prayer presented on my behalf. Thank you.

Don’t be shy. Boldly approach the throne of God in reverence and humility and present your requests. He listens.

Only Hope

I know, I know… It’s been a while. Sorry. I’ve had my hands full with healing my injured foot and replacing bad caregivers – a task that never gets easier no matter how often I do it. I am also busy with my small art business called Broken & Beautiful Art. Time passes so quickly, don’t you think? Sometimes when life is calmer and I’m doing OK health wise (or healing from foot injuries), I mistakenly think “oh, this isn’t exciting enough to write about.” Then I had that glorious light bulb moment, like God just whispered in my ear: I made you to be special. I gave you a voice and a gift of writing. Use it to tell your story. Use it all – even the calm, mundane times. So here I sit, finally in that awesome zone where my words to write come so fluidly and without thinking that it’s as if God were typing these words. Have you ever done that? Just sit still and listen, writing only what Yahweh says? Some dismiss the notion that God still speaks to us, but I personally think that’s due to the fact that so many aren’t patient enough to listen. We don’t have time. There’s far too much to do today. Billy has soccer tryouts and Suzy has to be at ballet in ten minutes and CRAP! I FORGOT TO GET MILK! Back to the store! We can’t keep our thoughts in order due to our constant work to hopefully, maybe, some day achieve that idolized “American dream.” Riches and power can only get you so far in this life, and the price paid for such “gifts” is far too high. We as a nation have forgotten God but for Heaven’s sake, don’t forget that smart phone. We spend our days behind a screen, where essentially you can be whoever you want to be and some are so enamored with that concept that they actually believe they are a god. How many religions really exist today? At a minimum of thousands, I’ve no doubt. Why is that? Because we’re all too stubborn to put our differences aside and focus on Christ alone. We care more about our pride than being labeled a Christian (“oh, not another Jesus freak!”). Some try to cover all bases by being a “free spirit”: accepting and embracing every religion and moral code, but please hear me when I say all roads do not lead to Heaven and you know when it’s time to change course! I had one individual tell me she cared more about finding out who God really is after she dies than securing her eternal destination while alive. Has it always been this bad? Such lack of respect for God and any lifestyle associated with Him! There has always been evil in this world, it’s just made instantaneously public now thanks to the internet. We’re all little hamsters running on that never ending wheel of goals that the elite have imposed on us as a society to keep us under their control. And guess what? We allowed it! What stupid sheep we can be, yet the Creator of life still loves us and wants to set us free from the bondage we put ourselves in due to sin. For being such a tolerant society, so many still have no room for Jesus. I’m reminded of these words from a Casting Crowns song:

United States of America, looks like another silent night
As we’re sung to sleep by philosophies that save the trees and kill the children
And while we’re lying in the dark, there’s a shout across the Eastern sky
For the bridegroom has returned, and has carried His bride away in the night 

Now is not the time to take a half-hearted approach to our eternal destination. We blame everything else for why this world is so chaotic, when we have gradually given up our values more and more over time. It’s not some political issue, banning weapons isn’t the answer. We as humans have a serious heart issue and the only resolution is to allow God to break our hearts and reshape them to be what they were originally meant to be. It’s a painful process, but even glow sticks have to be broken before they shine bright!

We need to stop running from hard things and conquer them like God calls us to.

Our only hope lies in God. Do you have room in your heart for Him?


If you saw someone trying to drown themselves, wouldn’t you try to save them?

You drag them to shore and begin CPR. No pulse.

Minutes pass that seem like hours. You pound, scream, give one more breath…

Their eyes open. They’re alive! They look around. But then…

They spit on you and jump back in the water.


I meet a lot of people in my daily life as a result of living with a serious disease. It’s not easy to maintain my health, but I try to make the best of it and many times I’ve actually made new friends. I have come to love one lady who I see often. She’s fun, we joke around, and she is truly interested in helping me.

She’s also a Buddhist. And what blows my mind is that she was raised in a Christian home.

We’ve had two in-depth conversations regarding religion, and I fear I may have pushed too far. She is completely closed off to hearing anything about God and His goodness. She wants nothing to do with Him and it breaks my heart in ways I can’t explain.

It’s like I have the secret to life and I want so desperately to share it with EVERYONE… But some don’t want it. I don’t understand.

“You have the most beautiful soul” she says. Right, so, don’t you want what I have? I don’t understand.

“It’s not OK, the whole sending people to Hell thing”, she says… But, it isn’t God’s will that anyone should perish. I don’t understand.

“Don’t worry about my soul” she said. But I do worry. It consumes my thoughts. I worry because I love her and there’s a living God who could make her more fulfilled than Buddha ever could.

She says she’s happy but I see the pain in her eyes. Let me help you, I want to scream! Yet she turns and runs back to that water.

I wish I could help everyone, but I can’t. I’m just one girl. My only hope is that this dark world sees an unwavering light in me that they want for themselves.


Choose life

I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing: therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.Deuteronomy 30:19

Do you ever wish life could go a little easier? I know I do. Between figuring out this mysterious trach infection and my recurring stomach issues, it can get frustrating at times. Yet, in spite of my circumstances, I am genuinely happy. Why? I try to focus on all the good things. I’ve been blessed beyond measure. I am alive – a rare privilege someone in my condition can have. I have an amazing family and have been given the extraordinary purpose in this life of reflecting the love of God to everyone in this dark world, that all might see His strength through my weakness.

Nobody is perfect. We all have bad days, I know I do. What matters, though, is that we get back up every time we fall down. With free will comes the great responsibility of dealing with the consequences of our choices: good choices produce blessings while bad choices produce pain. It sounds so simple in theory but is altogether different in this confusing world of sin.

I was in a dark place recently; primarily due to medication changes, but Satan was attacking my mind relentlessly. The battlefield of the mind is no joke. I finally realized where the problem lied: within me. I hadn’t been spending time in God’s Word – the essential lifesource to all who have accepted Christ as their personal Savior. So I changed my ways and am constantly living in the Word because my soul craves it like nothing else and it fulfills me in ways I can’t explain. It doesn’t matter how well you may know the Bible. Keep reading, keep searching, keep focusing on the truths that the enemy so desperately tries to distort.

God gives us life, but it’s up to us to decide what kind of life it will be. Will you choose blessing or cursing? Life or death? Jesus came to set the captives free and so we are without excuse. At the end of the day, whatever your circumstances may be, one thing remains: Christ conquered the gave that we may live victoriously. The fight has already been won. Don’t trudge through your days in defeat. Don’t settle for merely surviving. You are a child of the Most High King, so act like it. Choose life.



Dear God,
I’m so sorry.

I’ve let You down. (Again…)

How is it possible to forget who I am in You after everything we’ve been through?

Why is it that this hill in particular is shaking my faith more than the last valley?

If it takes everything in me, I won’t let this break me.

The enemy may attack my body and mind, but he cannot have my heart.


Forever Yours,




I’m Amber Stewart. 28 years old, approximately 26 years longer than any doctor ever believed I’d live (and counting!).

I have gone through things that you can’t imagine – things I wouldn’t wish upon anyone – and God has carried me through miraculously every single time.

I’m strong.

I have my own nonprofit organization. I love helping others.

I have like, four college degrees. And I want another.

I have the most amazing family anyone could ever have. I’m serious.

I have an amazing life.

And yet, the doctor had to take me off some of my regular medication for two weeks because I’ve been taking some crazy sensitive antibiotic (which I’m not entirely sure even worked), and WHAM! There you are, Devil

Add to that the fact that there is so much sickness going around I haven’t left my home in weeks, and Houston, we have a problem.

It’s like when I’m not fighting for my life, my mind slows down enough for Satan to move right on in, flipping my world upside down.

Suddenly I’m not at all content my life. I’m struggling even more than usual with caregivers. I have separation anxiety when my parents leave for a typical work day. I don’t like anything or mostly anyone. I am officially ready for Jesus to return and take us all Home together, and I’m waiting very impatiently.

It doesn’t take much to knock me off my feet and make me forget my purpose in this life.

How did I let that happen?
I don’t even know how I got here. Yet here I am, making the decision to get back up allow God to use me; for that is when my spirit truly soars.

Life is hard. God is good. Choose joy.