SURPRISES FROM HEAVEN

My husband and I always called special surprises God's kisses because they would give us the feeling that our Heavenly Father had reached from His home in heaven to create a "God-incident" for us.
Since my husband's death I have had daily surprises to let me know that he is doing great in heaven and to let me know that God wants me to know that He is sending special kisses to catapult me through the grieving period.
The endless paperwork has been a burden with the constant reading and rereading the documents to fully understand the legal language in all of it. I had received a letter soon after my husband's death that said that I owed Social Security ten thousand dollars because I had been overpaid for the past year. That took several hours of reading the long six single spaced pages, pouring over every word until I discovered that it said that since he had died last year they had paid me too much money. The truth is that he died a month ago. It took a long telephone call to the office in our town before I could convince the nice lady on the phone that it was a mistake on their part. She was so kind and she finally found the error and told me to disregard the letter.
I received another letter a few weeks later relating to the one time two hundred plus dollar payment paid to every family whose deceased relative was receiving Social Security. That letter had two consecutive paragraphs which completely contradicted each other. I had to take the death certificate to the SS office anyway, so I went with not only the death certificate but the confusing letter in hand.
When I went into the new SS building I took a ticket from the computer which said that my number was 25 and I would be called and instructed to go to a specific window where an employee would help me. The loud speaker announced that the person holding number 10 should go to window 15 for assistance. I took my seat in the back of the ocean of people waiting for their turn to be helped. I was confident that since there were 15 windows with helpers behind each window that I wouldn't be there all day, maybe just a large portion of the day.
I enjoyed watching the people waiting to be assisted and the ones who went to their appointed windows, which were anywhere from 1 to 15. Windows 7 through 14 were around the corner and down a long hallway.
Finally the announcement came that number 25 should go to window 4. I meandered over to the window, stretching out my legs because I had been sitting in an uncomfortable chair for a while. I sat down in the chair in front of the window and a lady's voice said, "Have you had a face lift? You look younger than you did 25 years ago."
I looked closer at the person behind the window and recognized it as Marla, a lady who had come to us for marriage counseling 25 years ago. She had become a good friend even though I hadn't seen her in 25 years. She had moved to another state but had learned about my writings on my blogs and had started reading them. I also started sending to her daily encouraging messages from God which I publish on the Dear One blog. She occasionally writes an email to me but we hadn't seen each other in 25 years. I thought she still lived in another state.
I was in awe again of God's surprise for me that day. Think of the trouble He went to getting me to the office on the right day, putting Marla behind a certain window, and then getting me in line to draw that particular window to find help relating to the letter. Out of 15 windows I got an old friend, Marla, who immediately rose from her desk, rushed out the door in the partitioned wall, ran up to me and gave me a heart warming bear hug. We hugged for several minutes.
Marla said, "I knew when I saw in the paper that Steve had died that when you came in to bring the death certificate that I would get you at my window."
That put me deeper into complete awe of God, that He had given Marla that prophesy, that she would get to help me, and here she was across the desk from me. We shared some God incidents and then knew we had to get to my problem. After all, she was working and on government time.
I showed her my letter, which she immediately read and remarked that I was right, that the two paragraphs completely contradicted each other. She had to take it to her supervisor to decipher it. She was gone a few minutes, came back and said the supervisor couldn't figure out why the second paragraph was in there, that she had never seen that admonition before.
Well, my imagination went wild for a few minutes thinking about did God cause that strange paragraph to be put in so that I would take it to the SS office and be helped by God's maiden, an old friend who was believing that she was going to see when when I came in the office? Could be.
The miracle of the whole thing is that out of 15 windows being used that day, I got the exact number of Marla's window. Now, that also fills me with awe of the abilities of God.
The problem was solved and I got to be personally hugged and personally loved by someone I hadn't seen in 25 years whom God had told she would get to help me.
God is truly amazing. I'm in awe every day of His goodness. His Instruction Book says that the awe of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. I'm waiting for more of His wisdom relating to the incident. It will thrill me, too.

SOLID FOUNDATIONS

Dear One,

Treasure the good things that people do for you and say to you. They all go toward your foundation of stability, your solidarity, the shoring up of your good ego which is necessary for a happy life. You relish the compliments and welcome them with joy.
Since those actions of kind words and deeds are so important to you, you must see that you give the same kind words which solidify the foundations of others. They are their building blocks to a good and beneficial ego which is necessary for their happy lives.
You should give compliments and other words of love to others willingly and joyfully, knowing that those words are My words, spreading love around the earth. When you willingly spread love, you also spread peace because a solid foundation in the mind of a person also gives peace to the person.
Spreading My love and peace in a tumultuous world is doing exactly what Jesus did. After all, He is the Prince of Peace. You are His ambassador of love and peace now. Spread them willingly and joyfully. Then watch your world change as a result.
Ambassadors are not only representatives of one nation to another, but they exemplify the character of their own nation. Since My character is love and peace, you are called to be ambassadors of My family, showing My love and My peace to everyone. It all starts with kind words and kind actions. Those are your proper witnesses for Me.
The song I gave to one of My children says, "Spread a little love." I say it again to you, determine to spread a little love every day and then you will find that you can spread a lot of love every day.

Love, God
I Corinthians 15:33-34; Ephesians 4:29-32; James 3:1-18. Romans 12:10; II Corinthians 5:20-21.

THE DEATH OF A HERO

It's hard enough to have a stranger who's a hero die, but my granddaughter Lindsey's grandpa, who was her hero, died.
Lindsey came to see her grandpa often when he was sick, mostly after school.
When the time came that he could no longer talk because of a malignant tumor on his vocal cords which joined the other tumors in his body to destroy his life, she would just come and sit with Grandpa, just sit in the infirmary room on the love seat. Hospice had turned the den adjoining our bedroom into an infirmary room with a hospital bed, a trapeze bar for use when He was strong enough to help pull himself higher in the bed, an oxygen machine and all the other wonderful things that Hospice provides to ease the last days of the terminally ill.
A day or two before Grandpa died, after just sitting in the room with him, when she decided to leave she told him she loved him, which was her usual parting words. He waved a slight wave of his hand in goodbye to her.
It was a horrible day when Lindsey's dad had to tell her that Grandpa had died that day. She grieved and grieved, even more than she, her brother Jesse and I had grieved together a week before, after both of them had sat with Grandpa in silence for thirty minutes. He was their athletic hero as well as their adoring Grandpa. When they came out of the room shaking with sobs, I also lost my usual composure and sobbed right along with them. It was a sad, sad time for all of us.
Lindsey didn't come to the house for a couple of days after Grandpa died. It was impossible for her to come to the house where she knew he had drawn his last breath.
A few day after his death I got a phone call. It was Lindsey. She had a lilt in her usually sunshiny voice which I had not heard in a while. She said, "MeMe, can I come over? I have something to tell you."
"Of course," I told her, "you can come over." I needed to have her "always walking on the sunny side of the street," demeanor around me. I was intrigued because I knew how grieved she was at the death of her hero.
I watched for her silver pickup to drive into the driveway. Then I watched to see what her gait was like when she exited her truck. It was light and jolly-like, almost skipping.
She rushed in the door and said, "MeMe, I had a dream about Grandpa last night. In the dream I came to your house and you weren't here but Grandpa was here. He looked just like he did when he was healthy. He said to me, 'I'm fine, Lindsey. I'm so happy.'"
She continued her joyful rendition of her dream by telling me that the dream took all of the grief away from her. She said that she sees him in her mind now as the tall, handsome, athletic gramps that he always was.
I cried tears of joy and she cried tears of joy. Then we rejoiced together that God is so loving to give her that wonderful dream, one that chased away grief and gave her the hope of Grandpa being healthy and happy in heaven. God knew that she needed that vision of her hero being healthy and whole again.
God said he would comfort the broken hearted. He did it for Lindsey like He has done for me.
Thank you, My Heavenly Hero, for giving my granddaughter Lindsey a happy dream about her hero, her Grandpa Steve. It changed her grief into gladness.
That's the promise God gave, that he would turn our mourning into gladness. Lindsey's dream is proof that He keeps His promises and that He cares about a granddaughter who has lost her hero.
My Heavenly Hero is taking care of Lindsey and Jesse's hero who lives with Him now. That's a good Father.

JOY COMES IN THE MOURNING

JOY COMES IN THE MOURNING
T. Wieland Allen
As I lay here in bed minus my partner of 55 years I have a strange feeling that the past two years of cancer consciousness has been just a bad dream and that he will come in the bedroom door at any minute and get ready for bed.
I know that it hasn't been a bad dream but it was real, two years of grueling tests and bad reports and blood transfusions and chemotherapy and radiation and those always present doctors' appointments.
The thought comes that he is finally off of that horrible, never-ending hamster wheel that went no where, only back to the same dreaded scenario again and again.
He was constantly nauseous, weak and sick. I was always emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted.
Care giving is endless when a person's mate is forever seeking for a cure or just maybe some relief from the hopelessness that comes from a rare form of the dreaded disease.
The empty bed and the empty house speak loudly of loneliness, but even the fleeting thoughts of wishing that he was present with me are rejected because he would surely be back in the hospital bed trying to make himself eat something to please me or drink some small sips of liquid which would cause him to again cough up clods of mucous that constantly plagued him. That horrible memory makes me glad that he has left the prison of his diseased body which was at one time so physically fit, the picture of a healthy, handsome, virile athlete who loved life.
I dry my tears and thank God that the nightmare is over for both of us and he is enjoying the love, rest and comfort of the cocoon that God so graciously showed him in a dream. He is free from the disease and free from misery and free from the feeling of failure because he wasn't healed. He is free and I am also free from watching his misery and then having my own inherited misery that came from the unity that 55 years of togetherness affords.
Like a savior, joy comes and lifts me out of the loneliness and the sense of abandonment that so quickly invaded my mind tonight.
Joy is healing, like the Savior from which it comes, soothing my mind and drying my tears just like God promises. God said he would make treasures out of my tears. Tonight I momentarily contributed some more salty ingredients necessary for Him to fashion those treasures.
Yes, the joy that comes from God is strength and stability. And it always comes just in time, turning mourning into gladness.
Looking forward to God's promised treasures will be exciting, leaving the past behind and reaching forward to the high calling. He said to reach forward and that means to extend our open hands in eager anticipation of the treasures that He has fashioned for us out of the tears of misery because we trusted in Him. Reaching, reaching, reaching -- we can't reach forward if we are looking backward. We might miss a wonderful treasure.
Joy does come in the morning to those who were mourning but mourn no more.
Thanks be to God.

SHOCK TREATMENT

SHOCK TREATMENT
T. WIELAND ALLEN

My husband Steve has being undergoing chemotherapy for a few months. Radiation treatment was recently prescribed for his neck because a tumor popped up on the thyroid gland. We were momentarily devastated to hear about the new tumor. He had not had radiation up to this point, but since he was losing his voice the doctors prescribed radiation of the area in the neck, hoping it will shrink the tumor so that Steve can regain his strong voice.
One of the worse side effects of chemo and radiation of the neck is an excess of thick clods of mucus in his throat that choke him and interfere with swallowing. It results in gut retching coughing for ten to twenty minutes and then sneezing for 15 to 20 times for him, which is a family trait when anything gets caught in their throats. All of that is exhausting to any patient and Steve wilts with loss of energy many times a day when the mucus builds up. Then he has to rest for a long time to regain his strength. Then later the cycle repeats itself.
After researching the internet, I found that the mucus buildup is normal for chemo and radiation patients. There were some suggestions from doctors and also from patients and their caretakers on the researched articles. We had already come up with the most helpful thing which is Mucinex. It helps tremendously but does not completely alleviate the problem. Other suggestions were hot tea with honey and lemon, also lots of water, gargling Ginger Ale, a decongestant, salt water nasal sprays, and cough drops.
Steve has tried all of the suggestions but sometimes we forget to access all of the aids. Last night was a particularly bad night. Before going to bed he had an attack of coughing which caused him to vomit, then more coughing to bring up the mucus, then sneezing for many, many times. He barely made it to bed he was so weak.
In the middle of the night the same thing occurred. He was awake hacking for a long time, then laid awake for a long time weak with the process of getting rid of the mucus.
At 4:00 this morning I was still awake from the middle of the night episode. I had been praying for hours for him, knowing that he was feeling defeat from the constant coughing spell and possibly wavering in his faith. I know that I also was struggling with that battle between holding on in faith and giving up to the disease because of the effects of the chemo and radiation on his body.
I went to the guest bedroom to pray, hoping to get some comforting words from Our Heavenly Father which would bring me back into faith instead of temporarily entertaining defeat.
I merely told Our Father that I was asking for His words in the matter, and asking in faith that He would comfort me, counsel me, encourage me, whatever He knows will catapult me to the top in faith again.
As I laid on the bed, expecting to hear something from Him or anything from Him which would help me in the struggle I was having, determined not to give in to defeat.
God's personal words to me always have shock value. That's the way he talks to me, always saying something that I would never think of saying myself.
So the word of the Lord came to me in this shocking statement, "Are you going to let SNOT defeat you? You need to become the master of the snot instead of letting it be your master."
I bolted out of the bed and threw on my clothes, telling that snot that it has to come under the authority of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and greater is He than is in me than he that is causing that snot.
Now you need to know that that word, snot, is not in my speaking vocabulary. It's one of the words that crawls all over me when other people say it. I prefer the word mucus. In this instance I knew that God needed something that would get my full attention so he used the word "snot" in His admonition to me.
I sang a victory song for several hours.
I could hardly wait to tell Steve what God had told me, hoping it would spur him onto the offensive rather than being on the defensive. I was in for a shock when he came into the kitchen two hours earlier than his normal time. He came walking in with determination and a new command of the situation. He said, "I'm going to get ahead of this thing right now." He began to take all the necessary aids to become the master of the mucus instead of it being his master. He still coughed a little, but not with hacking and retching for fifteen or twenty minutes. By the time he took all the aids we had, he was calm enough to go back to bed for his much needed extra sleep.
God is so precious. I would call His comments to me of, "Are you really going to let snot defeat you," to be a loving chastisement. I had not realized we had let it get the best of us, succumbing to its harassment by letting it dominate our lives.
Steve's resolve to stay ahead of it was God's way of telling Steve the same thing He told me, but in a way that he would muster up courage and strength and become the head again and stop being the tail.
To be honest, after the sleepless night and hearing and seeing my loved one in such misery made me feel like I was the tail and I was barely holding on to the tip of that tail.
God is faithful. He always gets his messages across to us.
He sure knows how to shock me into action. All He had to do was use the word "snot."
There's not a thing wrong with that word. It's just that I was not raised hearing it so it's strange to my hearing.
We've declared a war on snot. See, I can use it, too, and not feel badly for it. But I do know that we need to gain victory over its harassment in our lives. Using all of the aids available at the proper time is the secret.
Steve got his message at the same time I did. His admonition was in the words he could understand and my admonition was in words that would spur me to action.
God knows all of us inside and out and He knows what words will bring us from the tail back up to the head again. I never imagined the word He would use, but Our Dad always knows best.
Whatever is harassing you in your life, don't let it be your master. You need to become its master. Thus saith the Lord.

ELI AND GOD'S GRACE

ELI AND GOD'S GRACE
T. Wieland Allen
I never can remember the proper name for cousins, whether distant ones are second cousins or cousins once removed or whatever. So I just call all of them cousins.
Two year old Eli is the son of my great niece, so that would make him the second cousin of my children or maybe a cousin once removed. No, I think he's the second cousin once removed of my grandchildren. Whatever.
Eli is a handsome young boy, black hair, dark brown eyes, chestnut colored skin. He's a striking looking little guy with a big smile.
At a recent family Thanksgiving reunion the dessert table was overflowing with pies, cakes, cookies and candies of various kinds. Family members would come into our rented hospitality suite at the hotel to graze on the sweets regularly, helping themselves to whatever their taste buds demanded at that moment.
My sister and I were observing four small tykes as they played at the long banquet table in close proximity to the dessert table. Two five year old girls and a seven year old girl were having fun making creations out of the craft materials. Eli, the brother of the seven year old girl, was playing with stacking toys in the company of the little girls. He was lost in his own little world. We could almost see his brain imagining little boy thoughts as he quietly stacked various toys. Maybe he was thinking about the joy he will feel when his dad comes home from Iraq. Maybe he was reliving the events of the past as his dad fed him a bottle when he was a baby and changed his diapers and burped him and played with him. Eli had eloquently told me about those memories a few hours previous to playing with the stacking toys.
The three little girls were chattering away, oblivious to Eli and my sister and me. Not one of the girls even paused to listen to the other two chatter, chatter, chatter away.
Eli was lost in his memories or maybe his anticipation of events when his dad comes home from "killing the bad guys," which was his assessment of his dad's mission.
As my sister Mary and I stood observing the kids at play, suddenly Eli quietly got out of his chair, still lost in his thoughts, walked the few steps to the dessert table, and gently lifted the top off of some peppermint bark candy. He chose the right piece, then started toward his mouth with the candy. Suddenly he looked up from his mission and saw my sister Mary and me admiring him intently.
Guilt hit his mind like the insidious evil that it is. Eli had the guilty look on his face of, oh, no, I'm caught and I didn't ask permission.
The two year old guilt-ridden boy very gently put the piece of candy back in the container, slowly put the cover back on it. Then he looked again at us women as we watched his gentle moves.
I said, "Eli, you can have the piece of candy. It's okay." Mary uttered her permission.
Ever so slowly he reached back into the container and retrieved the same piece of candy.
Two year old boys don't move slowly very often, but Eli moved in slow motion on his little short legs which were clad in Oshkosh overalls. He walked at a snail's pace fifteen or twenty steps toward the door to the room. He had not consumed the candy, still holding it tightly in his little clinched fist. He suddenly slowly turned around facing us and mouthed these words which were hard to hear, "Thank you."
Then he turned and exited the room, walking in the direction of his Nana who was tending to his baby brother in the hall.
My sister and I wiped the tears from our eyes, remarking that the scene was the cutest, most endearing event we had observed in a long time.
Guilt had enveloped Eli so quickly as he was jolted back into reality from his little world of imagination, but when he got permission to partake of the candy his attitude quickly turned to gratitude, muttering the sweetest thank you I've ever heard.
The precious scene was a perfect reminder of the guilt that attacks everyone at times, making us feel less than the valued person that we are. When we turn to God and He gives us His approval and His loving attitude of grace, we are so grateful that we do the same thing that Eli did, we quietly thank God for His gifts of blessings.
We are praying for the speedy return of Eli's dad so that the supposed images of happy times in his mind will become reality. Every child deserves to have his parents in their lives adding joy and security to their foundations.
Heavenly Father, please send Eli's dad Geoff home safely, and send every other daddy and mom home who has been jerked out of the lives of their children by war. Give those parents the opportunity to observe Eli and other children in their most precious activities as well as giving the children the opportunities to build other cherished memories.
My sister Mary and I are so fortunate to have observed the gracious event. God must have arranged it.
Thank you, God, for Eli and his gentle soul and for warming our hearts as we observed the precious event. You are a good Father for sharing the event with us as Your heart of love was also warmed.

SAVED BY A PRAYER

Our visiting granddaughter Edan and our daughter Pam wanted to go to the local Haunted Castle for an evening of enjoyment at the young children's portion of what we used to call a fright house. Fortunately the owner has added a 10 and under portion to the normally very fearful other sections of the Haunted Castle. Grandson Jesse had already left to go to a friend's house to watch a football game. Gramps wanted to accompany the others to the Castle, as did our other sixteen year old granddaughter Lindsey. They all traipsed off to the Castle and I stayed home to clean up the kitchen after dinner.
After cleaning the kitchen I felt the urge to go sit in the rocker on the deck and enjoy the delightful Indian Summer evening. I saw the evidence of lighting in the distance which looked more like a July 4th sky with fireworks dancing all over the sky. I surmised that it was more evident close to the Castle where the others were enjoying the early Halloween festivities. Since it is my unusual habit to pray when alone, I began to pray in the Spirit, or in God's language as i usually call it. In the past I've found that those prayers have 100 % success rate.
After praying for a long time, I decided to turn on the TV to see what the weather local channels had to say about the weather. The skies were beginning to look ominous even though we had only had a few sprinkles of rain.
Immediately after I turned on the TV the phone rang and Pam said that they were were on their way home, but they had to wait in line of cars to exit the Castle grounds. I was glad to know they were okay and on their way home because the TV newscasters were alerting people to stay indoors because of the abundance of lighting in the area.
When the four adventurers walked in the door they looked like soaked dogs who had been out in the rain all night. Their hair was soaked, their clothes were drenched, their shoes were soggy and their adrenalin was high. Their tale was exciting. It seems like they had left the Castle in a light sprinkle of rain but they had to walk to the car in a roundabout way. Before they reached the car the skies opened up and rain began pouring out of the sky in a blinding stream with lighting striking and loud thunder immediately followed the lightning, a clear indication that the lighting was stinking right above or around the hurrying crowd who were exiting the Castle in a mad rush to their cars.
The girls were frightened. Five year old Edan was petrified of the power of the lightning right above their heads and the loudness of the thunder immediately following the lightning. She screamed and wanted her mom, Pam, to carry her the rest of the way to the car. Lindsey said she almost cried with fright. She grabbed Grampa and held on for dear life. Pam was carrying an open umbrella in one hand and carrying Edan with the other arm trying to run as fast as she could. Pam told me that she felt the lighting power in the umbrella when it struck. Edan told me that the lightning hit her and her mom, "Right here," motioning to her ribs areas. She felt something in that area of her body because she knows very little about lightning and thunder, being from the west coast area.
I know beyond a doubt that God saved my family and the others in the crowd from the damaging power of that lighting. Why else would I have the urge to sit on the deck and seeing the lighting flashes feel the urge to pray?
Saved again is all I can exclaim. God has saved us many times before and He certainly saved us again.
The storm added another frightening dimension to the Halloween festivities at the Haunted Castle, one that we could have done without. But God is in the business of saving us and He did it in a wonderful way again.
Thank you, Heavenly Father, again and again.