"WE NEED TO PRAY"
T. Wieland Allen
"Praise God," "Glory to God," "Thank you, God" and "You are the greatest Father, ever," are exclamations of thanksgiving and joy that fell from the mouths of six ladies who had gathered together for our weekly prayer and study session. We are used to having reasons to praise Him from the heart and we had just experienced another miracle that almost left us speechless.
We always meet at noon on Tuesdays and are often referred to as the Tuesday Girls and at other times as the Prayer Posse, having been named the Posse by a friend in Wisconsin who knows about our penchants for going after healing and other solutions until we get the answers. We rarely miss meeting together and, come hell or high water, we do manage to meet together, even if it's only one or two in attendance. We know that Jesus told us that where two or three are gathered together, He is in our midst. We regularly have six ladies with varying ages, from 55 to 85. It makes no difference how many are able to come, we are called to eat lunch, pray and then study, laugh and occasionally cry when we marvel at His wonderful orchestrations in our lives.
Such was the case when an unusal miracle happened. It started with a mistake on my part. The past Tuesday I had misunderstood that we were meeting at Marcia's house instead of Jane's house. On Monday before the next meeting I called Jane and found that we had decided last week to meet at Marcia's house. Even though it was Monday morning, I knew that Marcia would be amenable to meeting at her house. I called her and she said what I knew she would say, "We will meet at my house. We need to pray." It was so gracious of her to offer, but that meant that she would have to fix a full meal for eight ladies who like to eat.
I suggested that she order pizzas and get a pizza dessert also. She was delighted with the suggestion and said that she had an engagement on the east side of town the next morning and it would be easy for her to swing by the pizza place and pick up the pizzas before going home. The plan was for her to collect the pizzas at 11:30 in order to get across town in time to welcome the prayer partners into her house. As they say, everything was copacetic.
You also know that good plans can fall through. Well, suffice it to say that God knows all solutions to all problems.
Early Monday evening I felt compelled to make an entire meal to take to Cathi, whose daughter had had hip surgery. I knew that they would appreciate a meal and I had time to cook, so late in the afternoon I went into the kitchen and saw that I had spaghetti, two bottles of spaghetti sauce and a large package of meatballs in the freezer. I had eight large cheese and garlic buns in the freezer also left over from last Tuesday's meeting at my house. I remembered that I also had some tangerines in the fridge, too. I had two packages of peanutbutter cookie mix and also had some icing I could put between two cookies and make special cookies out of by layering them. There was the full meal and I didn't even have to go to the market. In thirty minutes I had the full meal put into gallon ziplock bags, and placed into a large decorative basket to be taken to Cathi's home the next day after Bible study. Yes, copacetic again!
On Tuesday I had a busy morning so I had loaded the basket of food for Cathi's family into the car to be delivered later. At 11:45 I had finished loading my Bible and the teaching material that I was teaching that day and I was on my way to Marcia's house for our Tuesday ritual. My cell phone rang and it was Marcia who very calmly said, "Some man took our pizzas."
She had arrived at the pizza place at the appointed time only to find out that a man had picked up our pizzas. She asked me if I could stop by the market and get some shaved ham and turkey and a loaf of bread and we would just have sandwiches.
I had just passed the market so I said to Marcia, "I have spaghetti and meatballs in the back of my van to take to Cathi's family. We will have it for lunch." I must say, she uttered a sigh of relief.
When I arrived at her house, I saw that another Posse member named Kathy had arrived early and she was able to help with hostess duties, warming up the spaghetti, meatball and the bread while waiting on the other ladies to arrive. I needed to bring into the house my teaching material and Bible.
It had all been orchestrated by God, who knew that the pizza would be gone when Marcia went to get it, so he compelled me the night before to fix a meal for Cathi's family so that we would have a new main dish delivered right to the door with no trouble. It had been so easy on everyone, except maybe Marcia, who did have to handle the inconvenience at the last minute of not having a main course to feed six hungry women. She had already fixed a salad, hot tea and cake for us. She was so gracious to offer to be hostess at such a late time and she knew the importance of our gathering together to pray, so God just obliged her by sending her a main course to serve.
He is such a wonderful Father. He sends answers to our [rayers to us from no where. Dorothy said she thought maybe ravens from heaven had brought it.
When we expect the unexpected, it will show up. It's called faith.
Cathi's family did not miss out. Marcia called the pizza place and had two large pizzas delivered to Cathi's house. God meets the needs of everyone. He's a great Dad!
And speaking of God being a great Dad, I am so glad that He is not the kind of dad who just waits until you mess up and then pounces with judgment and condemnation on you. If He was, I would have been dead long ago. In fact, human beings would have vanished from the earth by now if he was the judge. The opposite is true. He is the Father who helps people who make mistakes, He helps people who miss the mark, He is the rescuer, not the judge. He is the problem solver, not the condemner. He is the Blesser, not the judge.
I messed up by thinking that Jane was having the Tuesday meeting. Instead it was supposed to be Marcia. My mistake caused a problem for Marcia, who had to rearrange a few things in her life to be able to host our meeting. It also caused some confusion for her, having the center piece of her meal bought by the wrong person. BUT, never fear, God supplied the spaghetti and meatballs before the confusion set in by compelling me the night before to fix them for the family of another Posse member. Cathi.
That's the rest that he calls us into, knowing that He solves our problems and fixes our mistakes. That is what it means when the scripture says that He knows what our needs are before we ask. When we are in unity with Him with no strife, the problem is solved before it's apparent to you that there is a problem.
Isn't that the most wonderful, loving, kind, generous, problem solving, solution providing Father! I am so glad that we have that kind of a Heavenly Father, one who is completely involved in our daily lives. That knowledge just takes your breath away. Well, not really. If we had no breath we could not praise Him. His miracles are enough to praise Him continually. That's what the songwriter David said, to let His praises be continually in your mouth. The Posse has no problem doing that because His goodness to His children is everlasting.
I thank him forever for fixing this problem before it began!
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Thursday, January 7, 2016
ANGELS IN THE RED ZONE
Here I go again with a miracle testimony that is, again, difficult for me to believe, and I saw it develop with my own eyes. It is about sports, which I had somehow previously determined that God did not really care who wins a game since he is no respecter of people. He doesn't cheer for any team to win except in battles against the devil and then he always cheers for His children to win. But in sport games, I was, and still am, convinced that He does not care who wins any sports game.
So I have some theories about why he helped a certain team win in a nationally televised game. I think that more insight will come to you as I write the scenario of how the thrilling game ended. It was a game against two very well matched teams, one which had, unfortunately, had a stroke of bad luck two days before the game.
The game was between the Oregon Ducks and the TCU Horned Frogs. It took place at the Alamo Bowl in San Antonio, Texas. It doesn't matter which team was favored because in this college sports battle it involved special help from heaven.
My sister and her family were at the game because they have special interest in TCU, hoping that their grandchildren will some day attend the college. That will be a few years in the future, but the game took place not too far from where they live so all the people in her family who lived close by attended. I had no knowledge that they were in the stadium because I had been on the West Coast at the time and was not apprised of their plans to attend the game.
Speaking of the West Coast, two days before the Alamo Bowl game, I was sitting in a classy breakfast restaurant in San Diego with one of my grandsons and one of my sons. It was early in the morning because my plane left early in the morning headed for Phoenix and then on to Tulsa. We had already ordered very creative and delicious breakfast meals when my grandson looked at his smart phone and announced to us that a young man whose name was Trevone Boykin, the quarterback for TCU, had been arrested at a bar fight in the early morning hours and taken to jail. He reported that the quarterback of the TCU team had also assaulted a police officer and was still in jail. Of course we came to the conclusion that Boykin would not play in the bowl game.
Sure enough it was all over the papers the next two days. Soon it was announced that he certainly would not play. That was a pitiful situation because he had previously been considered for the Heisman trophy.. News analysts began to draw and quarter him, questioning his morality and his intelligence and any other area they could use to fill their air time on the TV airways. I began to have compassion for the young man, knowing that everybody makes mistakes and he was unfortunate enough to be in the eye of the public so he was fair game for judgment and condemnation for doing such a stupid act in sneaking out after curfew and going to a bar a couple of nights before the big game.
Compassion and sympathy for the young man grew heavier and heavier in my emotions so I began to silently pray for the young man whose life was ruined, as was proclaimed by the sports analysts. I began to feel the load that the young man was carrying, knowing that not only was his football team disappointed in him, but also his family, the entire college and his coaches. It wasn't only limited to the named college but also the entire football sports world was crucifying him in their minds and verbally for making such an unwise decision which not only cost him his football career but also might cost his team winning their bowl game. He was a lamb for the slaughter. I truly felt his emotional pain.
When game time came, I watched sporadically and found that TCU was losing big time. They could not get anything to work for them. At half time they were losing 31 to 0. As I said, I did not know at that time that my sister and her family were at the game, but I had a very strong urge to text her and inquire if any of them were in attendance. Sure enough I received back a text that told me that seven members of their family were there and that it was a sad, sad affair because their team was so far behind. Since it is very unusual for a team to be 31 points behind to come ahead and win, something dramatic had to happen to help them.
My sister reiterated how sad it was. I began to think more and more about Trevone Boykin, the suspended quarterback who was not playing and leading his team to victory, which he had done in most of the games. He had had the attention of the sports media all year and was hailed as one of the best players in the college football world at the time. With his team losing by that huge a margin, my compassion for Boykin reached 100 on the leader board of my emotional activity. If the team lost by a huge margin without scoring a point, the crucifixion of him in the media and in the minds of the fans would be unmerciful. I could feel his apprehension at thinking about what he faced in the media and from people in the future. That unwise act would follow him all of his life.
After the halftime was over and the teams took their positions, the announcers of the game commented that the Oregon Ducks didn't seem to come out of the dressing room with the same gusto that they had in the first half. A gift of faith began to rise in me, with the thought that with some spiritual help maybe the TCU team would be able to at least make a good showing, although it would take a while to make up the 31 points that were on the scoreboard for the Ducks. I texted my sister and said, "The game is not over yet."
She texted, "We're hanging in here; in the stands, I mean,"
I texted, "Praying for a miracle."
She texted back, "Me, too."
I must confess that my concern was not for the TCU team itself. It was for the suspended quarterback, Trevone Boykin. I knew the outcome of the game had a dramatic influence on the rest of his life.
As we prayed, suddenly, within just a few minutes, the TCU team had scored 17 points. It was as if their opponents could not do anything right and everything the TCU team did was right and when they did they put points on the board.
I texted, "Where two agree, 17 points show up on the board."
She texted, "Amen."
I began to think about the movie, "Angels in the Outfield." I began to pray for there to be angels in the red zone helping TCU score more and more points. When they did, my sister texted back, "A miracle happened again," as the team scored again and again. As the 4th quarter ended, the teams were tied. It had certainly been a miracle to behold.
I texted back, "I knew it would. Prayer works when two are in agreement." I was in agreement that they would win for Trevone Boykin's sake and she was in agreement that they would win for the team's sake. The objects of the win didn't matter, the fact is that we were in agreement for God to do a miracle for the TCU team and He did.
There were angels on the 50 yard line, the 40 yard line, the 30 yard line, the 20 yard line, the 10 yard line and in the red zone helping the TCU team win in three overtimes.
TCU ended up winning the game 45 to 41. They overcame a 31 point deficit.
I know that God's heart was also aching, like mine was, for Trevone Boykin, the young man who had made such a life changing mistake. I knew that God wanted to add energy and momentum to his team so that they would be determined to win. Their substitute quarterback was the hero of the game. He had supernatural ability and it was apparent that something happened to him in the second half that was not apparent in the first half. He seemed to be empowered.
Was God on the side of TCU? I think He was, but only because of His compassion and love for Trevone Boykin. He wanted the team to win to take the pressure off of the suspended quarterback. I know that Trevone was praying to God to rescue him from the effects of his mistake and God did. He had apologized immediately to the team, the fans and the university, so we know that he was contrite. God merely used two ladies to agree with his prayers and prove that where two or three agree a thing is established. We had faith in God's miracles and because of the multiplied faith a miracle happened.
It was the best game of all of the bowl games, as declared by the sports analysts. The TCU team got the attention and the acclaim instead of the media continuing to crucify a young man who merely made a mistake in his choices.
Who hasn't make a mistake in their decision making? I have. You have. Everyone has. Our mistakes were just not visible to the entire sports world.
I know that Trevone Boykin is grateful to God, just like we are. His failure is no longer news. The team's victory is news. That's the way it should be. That's the way God planned it. He always produces good news.
So I have some theories about why he helped a certain team win in a nationally televised game. I think that more insight will come to you as I write the scenario of how the thrilling game ended. It was a game against two very well matched teams, one which had, unfortunately, had a stroke of bad luck two days before the game.
The game was between the Oregon Ducks and the TCU Horned Frogs. It took place at the Alamo Bowl in San Antonio, Texas. It doesn't matter which team was favored because in this college sports battle it involved special help from heaven.
My sister and her family were at the game because they have special interest in TCU, hoping that their grandchildren will some day attend the college. That will be a few years in the future, but the game took place not too far from where they live so all the people in her family who lived close by attended. I had no knowledge that they were in the stadium because I had been on the West Coast at the time and was not apprised of their plans to attend the game.
Speaking of the West Coast, two days before the Alamo Bowl game, I was sitting in a classy breakfast restaurant in San Diego with one of my grandsons and one of my sons. It was early in the morning because my plane left early in the morning headed for Phoenix and then on to Tulsa. We had already ordered very creative and delicious breakfast meals when my grandson looked at his smart phone and announced to us that a young man whose name was Trevone Boykin, the quarterback for TCU, had been arrested at a bar fight in the early morning hours and taken to jail. He reported that the quarterback of the TCU team had also assaulted a police officer and was still in jail. Of course we came to the conclusion that Boykin would not play in the bowl game.
Sure enough it was all over the papers the next two days. Soon it was announced that he certainly would not play. That was a pitiful situation because he had previously been considered for the Heisman trophy.. News analysts began to draw and quarter him, questioning his morality and his intelligence and any other area they could use to fill their air time on the TV airways. I began to have compassion for the young man, knowing that everybody makes mistakes and he was unfortunate enough to be in the eye of the public so he was fair game for judgment and condemnation for doing such a stupid act in sneaking out after curfew and going to a bar a couple of nights before the big game.
Compassion and sympathy for the young man grew heavier and heavier in my emotions so I began to silently pray for the young man whose life was ruined, as was proclaimed by the sports analysts. I began to feel the load that the young man was carrying, knowing that not only was his football team disappointed in him, but also his family, the entire college and his coaches. It wasn't only limited to the named college but also the entire football sports world was crucifying him in their minds and verbally for making such an unwise decision which not only cost him his football career but also might cost his team winning their bowl game. He was a lamb for the slaughter. I truly felt his emotional pain.
When game time came, I watched sporadically and found that TCU was losing big time. They could not get anything to work for them. At half time they were losing 31 to 0. As I said, I did not know at that time that my sister and her family were at the game, but I had a very strong urge to text her and inquire if any of them were in attendance. Sure enough I received back a text that told me that seven members of their family were there and that it was a sad, sad affair because their team was so far behind. Since it is very unusual for a team to be 31 points behind to come ahead and win, something dramatic had to happen to help them.
My sister reiterated how sad it was. I began to think more and more about Trevone Boykin, the suspended quarterback who was not playing and leading his team to victory, which he had done in most of the games. He had had the attention of the sports media all year and was hailed as one of the best players in the college football world at the time. With his team losing by that huge a margin, my compassion for Boykin reached 100 on the leader board of my emotional activity. If the team lost by a huge margin without scoring a point, the crucifixion of him in the media and in the minds of the fans would be unmerciful. I could feel his apprehension at thinking about what he faced in the media and from people in the future. That unwise act would follow him all of his life.
After the halftime was over and the teams took their positions, the announcers of the game commented that the Oregon Ducks didn't seem to come out of the dressing room with the same gusto that they had in the first half. A gift of faith began to rise in me, with the thought that with some spiritual help maybe the TCU team would be able to at least make a good showing, although it would take a while to make up the 31 points that were on the scoreboard for the Ducks. I texted my sister and said, "The game is not over yet."
She texted, "We're hanging in here; in the stands, I mean,"
I texted, "Praying for a miracle."
She texted back, "Me, too."
I must confess that my concern was not for the TCU team itself. It was for the suspended quarterback, Trevone Boykin. I knew the outcome of the game had a dramatic influence on the rest of his life.
As we prayed, suddenly, within just a few minutes, the TCU team had scored 17 points. It was as if their opponents could not do anything right and everything the TCU team did was right and when they did they put points on the board.
I texted, "Where two agree, 17 points show up on the board."
She texted, "Amen."
I began to think about the movie, "Angels in the Outfield." I began to pray for there to be angels in the red zone helping TCU score more and more points. When they did, my sister texted back, "A miracle happened again," as the team scored again and again. As the 4th quarter ended, the teams were tied. It had certainly been a miracle to behold.
I texted back, "I knew it would. Prayer works when two are in agreement." I was in agreement that they would win for Trevone Boykin's sake and she was in agreement that they would win for the team's sake. The objects of the win didn't matter, the fact is that we were in agreement for God to do a miracle for the TCU team and He did.
There were angels on the 50 yard line, the 40 yard line, the 30 yard line, the 20 yard line, the 10 yard line and in the red zone helping the TCU team win in three overtimes.
TCU ended up winning the game 45 to 41. They overcame a 31 point deficit.
I know that God's heart was also aching, like mine was, for Trevone Boykin, the young man who had made such a life changing mistake. I knew that God wanted to add energy and momentum to his team so that they would be determined to win. Their substitute quarterback was the hero of the game. He had supernatural ability and it was apparent that something happened to him in the second half that was not apparent in the first half. He seemed to be empowered.
Was God on the side of TCU? I think He was, but only because of His compassion and love for Trevone Boykin. He wanted the team to win to take the pressure off of the suspended quarterback. I know that Trevone was praying to God to rescue him from the effects of his mistake and God did. He had apologized immediately to the team, the fans and the university, so we know that he was contrite. God merely used two ladies to agree with his prayers and prove that where two or three agree a thing is established. We had faith in God's miracles and because of the multiplied faith a miracle happened.
It was the best game of all of the bowl games, as declared by the sports analysts. The TCU team got the attention and the acclaim instead of the media continuing to crucify a young man who merely made a mistake in his choices.
Who hasn't make a mistake in their decision making? I have. You have. Everyone has. Our mistakes were just not visible to the entire sports world.
I know that Trevone Boykin is grateful to God, just like we are. His failure is no longer news. The team's victory is news. That's the way it should be. That's the way God planned it. He always produces good news.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
BLUE MORPHO BUTTERFLIES SIGHTED
BLUE MORPHO BUTTERFLIES SIGHTED
T. Wieland Allen
The most amazing thing about appearances from the heavenly dimension is that they happen all the time but people are blind to them, or maybe they see them but do not relate them to reality. I was blind to them for many years, choosing instead to only believe what was material to this world, what I could touch, feel, smell, hear or taste. Even when things appeared to be from another dimension, I chose not to be "spiritual" or "mystical" as is the label attached to people who are aware of heavenly occurrences. When I began to appreciate the messages of hope and faith that come from the heavenly world, I found that their appearances became more and more frequent and much more apparent to me.
Such an occasion happened to me recently at the home of my daughter and her family. Their home is a loving home with an appreciation of the uniqueness of every member of their family, my daughter, her husband and their daughter Edan. They are a family of many talents and varied interests. It is in such a setting that messages of hope and faith come easily because of the lack of conflict, drama and chaos. Heavenly visitations frequent the homes where an atmosphere of heaven is already present, homes where love, peace, joy, kindness, goodness and patience are already well established.
I must lay the background for the message of hope, assurance and faith that came to me on a recent visit to such an earthly atmosphere, the home of my daughter and her family. The background involves the life of my husband Steve who fought a valiant battle with a rare form of cancer and lost the final battle, which broke the hearts of every member of our family. After his death, our grand daughter Edan, at six years old, told me that she used to be afraid to die, but now she's not afraid to die because she will get to hug Pop-Pop again. The reality of the heavenly dimension around us is very real to children. Often as adults we lose that childlike faith. I think that Edan's secure belief in the heavenly dimension is part of what allowed it to be manifested to me so easily in their home.
Three years ago, during the last months when Steve was fighting an especially difficult battle, we had the occasion to be at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center for his treatment. Things were beginning to look pretty grim, though we were riding on a high wave of faith for his eventual healing. I was perusing a gift shop while he was having tests and my eyes were drawn to a journaling book whose title was "Just When the Caterpillar Thought the World Was Over, It Became A Butterfly." I knew that Steve was entertaining a little hint of defeat so I bought the book for him to journal the rest of his adventure toward becoming a butterfly, free of the cancer. He loved the image of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly.
When we arrived home from Houston, I emailed a friend about the book and she immediately sent a cartoon via email to us of a blue morpho butterfly attempting to fly up a flight of steps with a large stone trailing underneath it which was attached to the butterfly by a thin cord. That picture was the exact way that Steve felt at the time. He felt like he was dragging a boulder up a hill, knowing that at the top he would be able to release the boulder and become as free as a butterfly. The blue morpho butterfly became a message of hope and faith for my friend and me. We began to send blue morpho butterflies to each other in jewelry, in pictures, in anything, just to remind each other not to give up. Steve bought into the blue morpho butterfly obsession, too, appreciating every time we shared the butterflies.
Even after Steve went to heaven, blue morpho butterflies have continued to be a mutual obsession between my friend and me. Any time we see a trinket that resembles the blue butterfly, we send it to the other person. I never knew anything about blue morpho butterflies until Steve's illness, but now I see them everywhere.
That is the background for my story. Currently it is now Christmas time and I spent four days of the Christmas holiday with my daughter, her husband and my grand daugher Edan who had recently recovered from strep throat. Edan had never been sick enough to have an antibiotic in her nine years of life, but there is always a first time for everything. With strep throat, antibiotics are standard cures. She took her medicine like a trooper and had a ten day supply, which the doctors said she must complete to effect the cure. I arrived on the fifth day of her taking the medicine and she was tolerating it nicely, also having a big bottle of a probiotic drink to ensure the replacement of good intestinal bacterial in her digestive tract. She was full of Christmas excitement and holiday cheer.
On the seventh day of antibiotic intake a small indistinct rash appeared on one of her cheeks. By the next morning, which was Christmas Eve, the rash had traveled onto her entire body, even causing a fever of two degrees. Edan began to be lackadaisical, not the excited and energetic nine year old who was so active when I arrived to visit. She laid on the couch off and on, slept a little, and only ate a little bit of food. There was still a little bit of excitement about Christmas but not to the degree as on previous days. Her face began to swell and turn bright red. Even her ears were swollen and bright red. The rash was also on her scalp and all the way down, covering her toes. After a call to the doctor, which was accompanied by email cell phone photos of the bright red rash on all of her body, it was determined that the antibiotic should be stopped immediately and Benadryl should be given to relieve the itching and discomfort caused by an allergic reaction to the antibiotic which was given to cure the strep throat. Her temperature had climbed to 103 plus, and so the doctor said to also give her Tylenol to lower the temperature.
She had a restless night but on Christmas Day she felt like opening a few gifts. Then she ran out of the energy necessary to complete the task of opening gifts and went to bed to rest. We had been warned that we should watch for labored breathing or her throat swelling closed and a temperature of 106 degrees because those symptoms would be a sign of anaphylactic shock, which can lead to instant death. She slept peacefully for several hours and I volunteered to sit with her because her parents had already had ten days of her sickness in recovering from strep throat after having been misdiagnosed originally by a nurse who did not administer the test properly. They had already spent emotions and time caring for a sick little girl with strep throat for ten days and, here again, she required watching for worse symptoms of the allergic reaction to the antibiotic which was given to cure the strep bacteria. I volunteered to sit with her while she slept.
Grandmoms just know how to pray because of our years of practice while raising our own children. I sat on a chair beside Edan's bed and watched for a change in her breathing or a sudden rise in temperature. I prayed and prayed for the disappearance of the rash and prayed that the temperature would not climb any higher. It kept coming into my mind that patience would produce a good result.
As I felt her chest for any sign of labored breathing and watched her throat for any sign of difficulty swallowing, my eyes suddenly landed on her sheets, which I had not noticed. There was a blue butterfly imprinted amidst the flowers on her sheets. How did I miss it previously? I didn't need the faith previously when I saw her in bed, but I needed the hope and faith now that she was so sick, so red and so swollen.
I continued to pray for her but with a new sense of hope for a complete healing without the possibility of the serious shock to her little body. As she slept, I became chilled and reached for one of the four quilts on her bed. She was wrapped in three of them and I grabbed the only one that was loose and available. It was a quilt made for her by her mom's best friend, a brightly multicolored quilt. I threw it around my legs and noticed something that I had never noticed before about the quilt, although I had seen it many times. The lining to the quilt was imprinted with hundreds and hundreds of dark blue butterflies and the edging around the lining was imprinted with larger blue morpho butterflies. They were everywhere.
I got the message loud and clear that she was going to be fine. How could I not believe that God and her Pop-Pop had not provided the butterflies as visual images to me that our precious grandchild was going to be fine as soon as the antibiotic was out of her system. It was as though the butterflies had been spotlighted to me so that I would not miss them. All fear left me and I was at peace.
That evening, Christmas night, I took a notebook out of my luggage, a notebook that my daughter, Edan's mother, had given to me several years ago in which to write the miracles and revelations from God. As I got it out of my luggage, I saw what I had missed seeing in the past. Among the many kinds of butterflies on the cover of the notebook were five blue morpho ones. I had not noticed them in the past. Where had those blue morpho butterflies been all of my life? I never knew they existed and I had never seen pictures of them until the last few years.
The miracle continued. When I arrived home from the trip I picked up the large journaling book from the gift shop at M. D. Anderson that I had given to Steve that had as its title, "Just When The Caterpillar Thought the World Was Over, He Became a Butterfly." I wanted to move it closer to my bed. A clipping fell out of the book. It was a cartoon that showed a butterfly emerging from its cocoon and it is saying, "I'm free." The cartoon had been sent to me over three years ago by..... guess who? The friend of my daughter who was the maker of Edan's quilt.
I know we are all connected in a supernatural way and the blue morpho butterflies are the earthly and visual representations of the heavenly visitors who come to help us in our time of need. There is something really thrilling and encouraging about that! When I looked up the word "morpho" I saw that it means to change forms. Yes, now I understand. Angels can change forms and become strangers in our midst, coming to bring us faith, hope and healing.
Thanks to God and Pop-Pop for giving me faith and hope for the complete healing of Edan. I don't know how many angels it took, but they were adequate for the task. When I think about the migration south of the millions of Monarch butterflies, I can envision the angels that were sent to do the job. In fact, the butterflies on the lining of Edan's quilt are probably only a small representation of the angels sent to do the task of healing her without the dreaded shock.
Until three years ago, I never knew anything about blue morpho butterflies. Now I see them everywhere, in reality and trusting in their being present as angels in the heavenly spiritual dimension around us to do God's great works in our lives.
We must pray for eyes to see and ears to hear the wonders of God's miracles. They are everywhere. He even sends them to give us faith and hope. We must have eyes of faith to recognize every one of the zillions of them.
T. Wieland Allen
The most amazing thing about appearances from the heavenly dimension is that they happen all the time but people are blind to them, or maybe they see them but do not relate them to reality. I was blind to them for many years, choosing instead to only believe what was material to this world, what I could touch, feel, smell, hear or taste. Even when things appeared to be from another dimension, I chose not to be "spiritual" or "mystical" as is the label attached to people who are aware of heavenly occurrences. When I began to appreciate the messages of hope and faith that come from the heavenly world, I found that their appearances became more and more frequent and much more apparent to me.
I must lay the background for the message of hope, assurance and faith that came to me on a recent visit to such an earthly atmosphere, the home of my daughter and her family. The background involves the life of my husband Steve who fought a valiant battle with a rare form of cancer and lost the final battle, which broke the hearts of every member of our family. After his death, our grand daughter Edan, at six years old, told me that she used to be afraid to die, but now she's not afraid to die because she will get to hug Pop-Pop again. The reality of the heavenly dimension around us is very real to children. Often as adults we lose that childlike faith. I think that Edan's secure belief in the heavenly dimension is part of what allowed it to be manifested to me so easily in their home.
Three years ago, during the last months when Steve was fighting an especially difficult battle, we had the occasion to be at the M.D. Anderson Cancer Center for his treatment. Things were beginning to look pretty grim, though we were riding on a high wave of faith for his eventual healing. I was perusing a gift shop while he was having tests and my eyes were drawn to a journaling book whose title was "Just When the Caterpillar Thought the World Was Over, It Became A Butterfly." I knew that Steve was entertaining a little hint of defeat so I bought the book for him to journal the rest of his adventure toward becoming a butterfly, free of the cancer. He loved the image of the caterpillar becoming a butterfly.
That is the background for my story. Currently it is now Christmas time and I spent four days of the Christmas holiday with my daughter, her husband and my grand daugher Edan who had recently recovered from strep throat. Edan had never been sick enough to have an antibiotic in her nine years of life, but there is always a first time for everything. With strep throat, antibiotics are standard cures. She took her medicine like a trooper and had a ten day supply, which the doctors said she must complete to effect the cure. I arrived on the fifth day of her taking the medicine and she was tolerating it nicely, also having a big bottle of a probiotic drink to ensure the replacement of good intestinal bacterial in her digestive tract. She was full of Christmas excitement and holiday cheer.
On the seventh day of antibiotic intake a small indistinct rash appeared on one of her cheeks. By the next morning, which was Christmas Eve, the rash had traveled onto her entire body, even causing a fever of two degrees. Edan began to be lackadaisical, not the excited and energetic nine year old who was so active when I arrived to visit. She laid on the couch off and on, slept a little, and only ate a little bit of food. There was still a little bit of excitement about Christmas but not to the degree as on previous days. Her face began to swell and turn bright red. Even her ears were swollen and bright red. The rash was also on her scalp and all the way down, covering her toes. After a call to the doctor, which was accompanied by email cell phone photos of the bright red rash on all of her body, it was determined that the antibiotic should be stopped immediately and Benadryl should be given to relieve the itching and discomfort caused by an allergic reaction to the antibiotic which was given to cure the strep throat. Her temperature had climbed to 103 plus, and so the doctor said to also give her Tylenol to lower the temperature.
She had a restless night but on Christmas Day she felt like opening a few gifts. Then she ran out of the energy necessary to complete the task of opening gifts and went to bed to rest. We had been warned that we should watch for labored breathing or her throat swelling closed and a temperature of 106 degrees because those symptoms would be a sign of anaphylactic shock, which can lead to instant death. She slept peacefully for several hours and I volunteered to sit with her because her parents had already had ten days of her sickness in recovering from strep throat after having been misdiagnosed originally by a nurse who did not administer the test properly. They had already spent emotions and time caring for a sick little girl with strep throat for ten days and, here again, she required watching for worse symptoms of the allergic reaction to the antibiotic which was given to cure the strep bacteria. I volunteered to sit with her while she slept.
Grandmoms just know how to pray because of our years of practice while raising our own children. I sat on a chair beside Edan's bed and watched for a change in her breathing or a sudden rise in temperature. I prayed and prayed for the disappearance of the rash and prayed that the temperature would not climb any higher. It kept coming into my mind that patience would produce a good result.
As I felt her chest for any sign of labored breathing and watched her throat for any sign of difficulty swallowing, my eyes suddenly landed on her sheets, which I had not noticed. There was a blue butterfly imprinted amidst the flowers on her sheets. How did I miss it previously? I didn't need the faith previously when I saw her in bed, but I needed the hope and faith now that she was so sick, so red and so swollen.
I continued to pray for her but with a new sense of hope for a complete healing without the possibility of the serious shock to her little body. As she slept, I became chilled and reached for one of the four quilts on her bed. She was wrapped in three of them and I grabbed the only one that was loose and available. It was a quilt made for her by her mom's best friend, a brightly multicolored quilt. I threw it around my legs and noticed something that I had never noticed before about the quilt, although I had seen it many times. The lining to the quilt was imprinted with hundreds and hundreds of dark blue butterflies and the edging around the lining was imprinted with larger blue morpho butterflies. They were everywhere.
That evening, Christmas night, I took a notebook out of my luggage, a notebook that my daughter, Edan's mother, had given to me several years ago in which to write the miracles and revelations from God. As I got it out of my luggage, I saw what I had missed seeing in the past. Among the many kinds of butterflies on the cover of the notebook were five blue morpho ones. I had not noticed them in the past. Where had those blue morpho butterflies been all of my life? I never knew they existed and I had never seen pictures of them until the last few years.
The miracle continued. When I arrived home from the trip I picked up the large journaling book from the gift shop at M. D. Anderson that I had given to Steve that had as its title, "Just When The Caterpillar Thought the World Was Over, He Became a Butterfly." I wanted to move it closer to my bed. A clipping fell out of the book. It was a cartoon that showed a butterfly emerging from its cocoon and it is saying, "I'm free." The cartoon had been sent to me over three years ago by..... guess who? The friend of my daughter who was the maker of Edan's quilt.
I know we are all connected in a supernatural way and the blue morpho butterflies are the earthly and visual representations of the heavenly visitors who come to help us in our time of need. There is something really thrilling and encouraging about that! When I looked up the word "morpho" I saw that it means to change forms. Yes, now I understand. Angels can change forms and become strangers in our midst, coming to bring us faith, hope and healing.
Thanks to God and Pop-Pop for giving me faith and hope for the complete healing of Edan. I don't know how many angels it took, but they were adequate for the task. When I think about the migration south of the millions of Monarch butterflies, I can envision the angels that were sent to do the job. In fact, the butterflies on the lining of Edan's quilt are probably only a small representation of the angels sent to do the task of healing her without the dreaded shock.
Until three years ago, I never knew anything about blue morpho butterflies. Now I see them everywhere, in reality and trusting in their being present as angels in the heavenly spiritual dimension around us to do God's great works in our lives.
We must pray for eyes to see and ears to hear the wonders of God's miracles. They are everywhere. He even sends them to give us faith and hope. We must have eyes of faith to recognize every one of the zillions of them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)