Many may ask- “How would a blog about looking for the Light apply to me?” Maybe it wouldn’t, maybe it would. I know I went looking for the Light until I found it to help me with some struggles.

There is an old saying, “It takes one to know one.” I never understood that until I became one- a struggling person. For instance, I understood that no one knew and understood someone who struggled with alcohol or other addictions as one who experienced these struggles themselves. I think my talent is in identifying those struggling with deep hurts that they may not even know are inside.

Some say, ‘leave the past in the past,’ or ‘just forget things and move on,’ as well as other well – meaning words of advice. These may not be the most helpful suggestions though. Do deep hurts of the past just go away with time? I don’t think I can be convinced of this.

Recently I met more people that convinced me that past hurts that are very deep do not just disappear with time, but shape our thoughts and actions and things that happen to us- in positive as well as negative ways. I find myself wanting to ask, “Were you loved properly?” “Were you protected?” “Can you say someone made you feel like you were the most special and loved little one in the whole world?” “Did anyone squeeze you in their arms to tell you how much you meant to them?” “Were there cruel words spoken to you by others that hurt deeply?”

When seeking truth and the Light, I remembered the nursery rhyme, “Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I’ve been to England to see the Queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat, what saw you there? I saw a mouse run under her chair.”

What I realized when I read this rhyme is that this cat was in the presence of greatness and royalty, however, only noticed an insignificant mouse run under the chair. It was illuminated to me that we, at times, disregard the ‘real’ or ‘significant’ issues, while we notice less significant ‘mice’ run under the chair. To clarify, issues with addiction, social isolation, compulsive behaviors, eating disorders, anxiety, and such, are all issues that need help, but they really signify deeper hurts inside the person struggling with these outward behaviors. These deep hurts go unnoticed and unaddressed because so much attention is paid to the symptom of the struggle instead of the reason for the struggle. And to clarify, I don’t think struggles are ‘insignificant.’

I am convinced all of us are ‘bumped’ in this fallen world. We all at times received a less than expected deal or treatment. Whether this was the loss of a parent or significant person in life, abuse of any kind, lack of guidance or affirmation as a child, school traumas, made to feel as if we do not measure up, as well as many other hurts that happen on a daily basis. These can be a cause of significant hurts that remain deep in our beings – especially if they happened when we were young.

I also realize there is a ‘stigma’ in admitting to others that we struggle. For goodness sake, there are medications to make us feel better when we really don’t. We live in a world of Prozac and Xanax to solve all the problems we seem to face. I wanted real answers and solutions and not cover up medications to get me through the days.

And that is why I sought the Light and sought answers in life. I felt misunderstood and abandoned, however, my search led me to the scriptures that helped me see Jesus as being there each step of my life each day. I was touched when I read that now and when I was a child in particular that in heaven my angels were always in the presence of and looked upon the Father Who is in heaven. (Matthew 8.10) I realized He was always connected to me personally and intimately.

Could there be deep hurts inside that have been there a long time? Do you think no one was there when you needed someone to be there? Do you think time has passed and things should no longer bother you, but something deep inside feels confused or sad or do things you don’t understand or think less of yourself than you should?

Keep tuned in for more to come.

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My sister in law once said, “We curse the darkness, but we forbid anyone to light a candle.”

The darkness. I suppose that could be loneliness for some. Single motherhood for others. Divorce, death, alcohol or chemical addiction, compulsive tendencies, eating disorders, anger and unforgiveness issues, a past riddled with abuse, being an orphan, losing a child or never having a child or a spouse, and other struggles are the darkness for many. For others, the darkness is also the deep feelings of being unwanted, unloved, defective, unworthy, unlovable, lost, worthless, helpless, hopeless, never measuring up, like they don’t ‘fit in,’ and feelings of failure- to name a few.

Mother Teresa is quoted as saying, ‘Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat.’ Although I think no one should go hungry, I certainly pray no one feels forgotten or unloved or unwanted.

No, life is certainly not all butterflies and daisies for some. For some, it is a real struggle to get through each day. Where does one turn for help? Where does one turn for answers.

When I was in the darkness in life- one particular very dark place – I needed some candles to light my way out of the dark of deep despair. My story had to do with deep depression and other things. When trying to figure out why I was struggling so, I came across some helpful information I wanted to share.

First, I learned that God’s Word says ‘A merry heart is like good medicine, a cheerful mind works healing, but a wounded spirit, who can bear this?’ Proverbs 17.22. I realized I was not meant to be wounded and that was why I wasn’t handling it well.

It also says, ‘He gives beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for morning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.’ Isaiah 61.3.  I often wondered how my ashes could ever be something beautiful. This took time to sink in.

While in the pit I was in, the Light finally came. The truth was I was not defective. I was not helpless or worthless. I was not unlovable. The lies I believed were what were killing me, the ‘Truth began to set me free.’ John 8.32. The truth was lovely and kind and wonderful.

How? Slowly, I began to learn. I read about how God felt about me and you. How He treasures us more than anything in this world. The Bible says, ‘The Earth is the Lord’s and the fullness of it,’ Psalm 24.1. He showed me that even though He owns everything in this world, we are His most precious possession. More than houses and cars and boats and everything, He considers us what He treasures and loves beyond our ability to comprehend at times.

When God opened my eyes to see how He treasured me above anything else, I felt loved. Hope filled my heart.

The Bible also tells me that God’s thoughts are precious towards me and they are so vast they are more in number than the sand! Psalms 139.17-18. What an amazing thing to tell me.

There is hope for a hurting world. His Name is still Jesus. Take a ride with us for a few weeks as we light some candles.

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Love is tough. I don’t always know what to say to others, but I sure do see love everywhere I look. For instance, my girlfriend’s son recently moved 1,000 miles and many States away. She is heartbroken, but she loves him and wants him to be happy. She is tough.

My other girlfriend travels over 80 miles each day to fight alongside the team of doctors, nurses, physical therapies, respiratory therapists and others to save her husbands life as he struggles to recover from a recent surgery. She is tired but sees the little improvements each day and continues to hope in the recovery of the one she has loved for many years.

Another girlfriend is helping her daughter with her addiction struggles and recent legal concerns. She has spent thousands of dollars for legal help and is working overtime to pay for the debts incurred. She drives her places to show her she is not alone in her struggle. They spend time doing crafts like making wreaths of autumn pine cones, laughing, having coffee, and sharing time together. She wants her daughter to know she is loved. She shared with me that she told her daughter her commitment to her began with her first breath and will end with my friend’s last breath.  Tough love.

My other friend visits a man in a wheelchair every day to share lonely and long hours with him. They talk about sky diving experiences they both shared as well as other things ‘guys’ talk about. An expression of love day after day when he could be doing other things.

I see love when folks move family members into their homes that have no where else to go. Sharing a life and living arrangements can be difficult – sometimes we consider this an invasion of privacy and life, but tough love does what is necessary. My Grandfather taught me that you take care of the ones you love. Love is grocery shopping, cooking, doing wash, and all the other acts of love that go unnoticed in a usual day for others that need a hand. Sometimes it is more difficult with more in a home and sometimes the ones in the home have medical concerns. Tough love keeps plugging along.

Love is sharing a meal with a homeless person.  Taking time to be friends with the friendless people. It is not just a 5 minute event to share someone’s life and help when needed.

I often hear others say- give them ‘tough love.’ Usually they mean let them figure it all out by themselves- let them alone in the struggle. Sometimes that helps folks get to the end of their ropes. I cannot go to the beach when the ones I love need help and love.  I just can’t.

The toughest love I have experienced is saying good- bye. When it comes time for someone we love to go Home, it can be the hardest thing we ever do, but that is loving them too. I watched my brother in pain and unable to breathe and finally watched him go Home to be in Paradise with the God I love. I feel weak at times, but I know love is tough and will get me through.

I’ll bet you know people who love when it isn’t easy. When they are the only people that that struggling person has to help – make a meal, provide a home, share time. We are in this together. We are not alone.

1 Corinthians 13 tells me Love is… kind.. love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things… love never fails. Even if I speak with the tongues of men and angels, but do not have love, everything else I do amounts to nothing. Of love, hope and faith, the greatest is love.

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N

Solomon and I spent many years together. I once read Alois Podhajsky’s book, “My Horses, My Teachers.” He was a rider and trainer at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria. He considered the horse his teacher. Sol was mine. As I have shared in the past, he taught me to ride and jump. He was feisty and eager to please me. When I called him, he came like a dog. He would hear my voice, whinny loudly, and run in the direction of my voice. He did this each time I came to the barn or called him while he was out in pasture.

Sol kissed me for apples and was the best friend I ever had.  We made it through everything together. He loved running full speed over the river and through the woods with me clinging to his mane. Being a student for eleven years after high school meant we did not have much money, but we always had what we needed. Not much extra though. I considered myself quite wealthy to have a horse and go to college too.

We seemed to move a lot until I bought my own farm. One particular time we moved I decided to ride him to the new barn because we were unable to find a trailer ride. Not really my brightest idea ever.

We started out great. We trotted and cantered along the path in the woods. After a while, Sol became tired. I dismounted and walked him. He was fine at first and then after a while, he began walking slowly- obviously more tired. Occasionally he would stop and look back. It seemed he was asking me if we weren’t ready to turn to go back to the barn soon.

I felt awful. I misjudged the distance from one barn to another and had not anticipated his fatigue. I would have been glad to let him rest, but he wouldn’t lay down. As I talked to him, I assured him it was shorter to keep going forward than if we turned back to his familiar barn. That best horse never refused to keep coming the way I was asking. We finally arrived at the new barn. He took a long drink of water, laid down, and rested until morning.

I have learned this lesson in life myself. Sometimes I have walked a long way in one direction pursuing one goal or another. I get tired and discouraged. I think it would be better to back up and reconsider things I have decided to do. I have learned that I need to keep plugging along because it has ended up being a shorter walk to keep moving forward than to look back to return to a familiar place in life.

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When teaching children, they were precious to me and I wanted them to know just how special and unique they were. So, one class, we talked about all their particular ‘favorite’ things. We made posters. On the posters we put their favorite color, their favorite TV show, their favorite game, their favorite desert, etc-and we talked about their favorite song.

One of my little boys had a speech impediment. Usually, we just went with the flow and had no issues because he could show us what he wanted or needed, but when we asked what his favorite song was, he mumbled, ‘blamyamabla’ – some gibberish we could not understand. I looked at my assistant. She shrugged her shoulders. We asked several times- same gibberish. So, we waited. When the little boy’s mother came, we told her we couldn’t understand what his favorite song was. We asked again, he answered the same. She immediately said, ‘Oh, that’s I Heard It Through the Grapevine.’ (a song the raisons in California borrowed for advertising)

There was no way we would have ever been able to interpret that, but mom’s know the most amazing things.  He certainly had a wonderful mother who loved him very much and could understand the un- understandable. Something I also attribute to God about all of us.

The little picture in today’s blog reminds me that there are majestic mountains, valleys, rivers, oceans, birds of all sorts, animals, reptiles, and all the living creatures on planet Earth, but only one and unique you.

Psalm 139 tells me:

‘O Lord, you have searched me [thoroughly] and know me.

You know when I sit down and when I rise up [my entire life, everything I do];
You understand my thought from afar.
³ 
You scrutinize my path and my lying down,
And You are intimately acquainted with all my ways.
⁴ 
Even before there is a word on my tongue [still unspoken],
Behold, O Lord, You know it all.
⁵ 
You have enclosed me behind and before,
And [You have] placed Your hand upon me.
⁶ 
Such [infinite] knowledge is too wonderful for me;
It is too high [above me], I cannot reach it……

For You formed my innermost parts;
You knit me [together] in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ 
I will give thanks and praise to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are Your works,
And my soul knows it very well……

How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
¹⁸ 
If I could count them, they would outnumber the sand.
Ps. 139.1-6, 13-14, 17-18

The God of the universe thinks of each one of us more times than there are sand particles on the beach! I remember how I felt when I first read this- like Someone really loved me. He loves each and every one of the one and only you too!

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I have always loved horses. When I was a young girl, I spent all my time dreaming of them, pretending to ride them, looking for any opportunity to ride them, and drawing them all day long instead of paying attention in school.

When I was 14 years old, every day I rode my bike 7 miles to swim at a lake. On my way, I passed a horse tied in her front yard eating grass. Each day I stopped and gave her handfuls of the same grass she was perfectly capable of eating herself, but it allowed me to talk to her and pet her.

One day, the man in the house came out, told me her name was Daisy, and asked if I wanted to ride her. I immediately said, ‘Sure!’ He lifted me to her bare back and then wrapped her lead rope around her neck- attached only to a halter – no bridle. This was the first time I rode without a saddle or bridle, but would never pass the chance to ride.

She and I galloped around their small front yard. Round and round we went. Then, I had the bright idea to ask her to jump a small puddle. To my surprise, she said, ‘No, thank you’ and stopped. Unprepared for her abrupt stop, I slid over her neck and plop! Right down to the middle of the puddle I fell.

I didn’t let that deter me from my fun. I cannot remember how I remounted that mare without help, but I did. We continued to gallop around the front yard. When I finished my ride, I approached the man who owned her. As I thanked Daisy for the lovely ride, he asked- in a surprised and puzzled tone- ‘Did you fall off?’

‘Oh, no,’ I fibbed. I couldn’t figure out how he knew. Later I realized I was covered in mud. Big give away. I thanked him for the ride and we took the mare into the barn where she was given her supper. Above her stall door was a wooden sign with her name- Upsidaisy.

I had a great day with Upsidaisy. The next day, my legs were so sore from riding I could barely walk, but it was sure worth it.

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I have been accused of being a ‘butt-in-ski.’ Some have said I care too much. I find that odd. How can one care too much? To me, it’s like the country song about ‘a car too fast, a girl too pretty, …’ and so on. It seems impossible to be ‘too much’ of something good.

While watching a movie one night, the young girl that had become friends with the author she cleaned and cooked for, made plans to leave with her boyfriend who was just released from prison. The girl told the author of her plans, the author said nothing. When it came time for the girl to leave, she was hemming and hawing and taking extra time to pack and actually leave. Finally, she asked the author if she loved her. The author replied ‘Yes.’

‘Then why are you letting me go?’ the young girl asked. ‘You know that man is bad for me,’ she continued. ‘And you are just going to let me go. You are not even trying to stop me.’

I was touched because I think she is right. When we care, how do we let those we love make decisions we would not advise without trying to intervene? I realize there are two schools of thought here. One is mine and the other is wrong- ha ha I write in jest.

Once, my step daughter dressed inappropriately for school-at least I thought it was inappropriate. When I saw her, I came a little unglued and began to ramble, ‘I have no idea what the right thing is to do here and don’t care what the books say, I’m telling you, you are not leaving this house dressed like that.’ I continued stammering how I may be upsetting her, but could not help it along with other things. I called her father to come to the house from his office close by. She did not react badly to my conduct and upset over her dress, but had the hint of a smile on her face.

When her father arrived, he looked at her and said, ‘Go upstairs and change your clothes.’ She did and I breathed a sigh of relief.  She never did that again. All I have read tells me children ‘test the locks’ (to make sure they are safe) – they push our buttons. They need the limits and need to know someone cares. I may not have won any parent of the year awards, but she knew I cared enough to notice her and want better for her.

I have a loved one who needs to know the same. He struggles with addiction. I call myself the sponsor from he—, but he knows that I watch and protect him because I love him. I have done everything but lock him in his bedroom and would fight for him no matter what it takes and for as long as it takes. I know I cannot change anyone and in the end they will do what they choose to, however, no matter how many mistakes I make or have others tell me to just let it go, I cannot stop caring. Maybe it will make no difference in the end and maybe it will. That’s why they call me a ‘butt-in-ski.’ It’s just my nature.

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Irma was my first hurricane. 1 week before the storm was predicted to hit Florida, Dad said, “We need to go to Walmart right now.” Our mission was to find water- we were all advised to get water, batteries, and gas. When we arrived at Walmart, there was no water. We tried 2 dollar stores and a local grocery. The shelves where water once was were empty.

A little disappointed and stunned, I told Dad I recently purchased water and we should be fine, but he really wanted to have just a little extra. The next morning, I found water at 6am. By 10am the new water supply was gone.

5 days before the storm, I took a swim at the springs close to our home. There, a woman candidly said, ‘Everyone is acting like it already happened.’ I questioned what she meant. She replied, ‘Well, there is no water and no gas.’

No gas! I gasped inside. How could I be so unprepared? I searched all day and did not find gas- all the pumps were covered with plastic bags. I pretended not to be panicked. Fortunately, I found  a gas station the next day and filled my truck.

Dad said he was going to get supplies. When he returned home, he had chocolate candy, crackers, chips and cookies. Great supplies, I thought. Good job, Dad!

Then came batting down the hatches. I pulled down the canopy of the trailer we own and fixed the roof and said my prayers for the camper. My brother’s truck sat parked near the camper.

Prepared we were. We had candles and canned food. Dad worried we would not be able to heat the food, but we had a propane camping stove that would do the job. We were all set. Everyone waited for the disaster to hit. The news flashed information every minute about the size of the storm and how it was huge compared to Andrew many years ago – the worst storm in history until Irma arrived on the scene. Now, impending doom was approaching as the worst storm ever to hit the mainland was on its way.

Evacuations were everywhere. We made the decision to stay and were in for the long hall. It felt like waiting for the end of the world to happen. Friends called concerned and saying they were praying. Dad insisted I pack a bag and go to a shelter. I could not leave him. We tried to keep busy while the storm approached. We were watching a movie when the power went off at 9:30pm. Without lights or TV, we played scrabble by candlelight and flashlight. About 11:30pm I was tired and went to bed. There were some strong winds, but nothing too terrible.

When I woke at 6am Monday morning, September 11, 2017, I could barely open the back door to let the dogs out. I could not see the mess in the dark. I called a friend in Ohio because I knew she is an early riser. She said the storm appeared to be in Tallahassee. We were out of danger.

When light came, I could not believe my eyes- trees had fallen, many large branches and sticks covered our 6 lots. One large tree fell and crushed a small section of our fence. The house was not damaged, the animals were well, we had survived the storm. I proceeded to thank all my friends who had called letting me know they prayed for us. The camper and my brother’s truck were undamaged.

When my Dad woke up, he said he was awake all night as the storm raged. He heard all the branches breaking, fearing they would hit the house. He said he heard wind that sounded like a freight train coming- a sign of a tornado. All night the storm raged. Then my Dad said, “And you were asleep.” I slept through the worst storm to hit Florida. I never heard a thing. In fact, I am such a deep sleeper that the more noise there is the sounder I sleep! I missed it all. No one can believe it.

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When I wanted to train Solomon to jump, I learned the best way to start was to use small wooden structures called cavalletti. These are long wooden poles attached to wood in the shape of an ‘X’ at both ends. This allows the wooden pole to be set low, or a little higher, or even one more measure higher if the ‘X’ is rotated to change the level of the bar. They can also be stacked. Cavalletti is used for training to jump as well as for helping horses become more flexible and conditioned.

I have great friends who knew my love for horses. When I told them I wanted cavallettis, they made 6 of them for me. I treasured those homemade wooden poles and took them wherever Sol and I moved to. They were a great help for Sol and I as we learned dressage and jumping. The same friends helped in another time of need.

One evening, when trying to load Solomon into a trailer, he refused to go in. A man helping me pulled firmly on his lead rope which made Solomon pull back. As he pulled back, his head went up into the air and the man let go of the lead rope. Not only did Sol’s head go further up, his whole body went into the air. He went up so high he went over backwards. When he landed, he struck the bones at the base of his neck against a  concrete parking block in the driveway.

My precious horse was hurt. For a few moments I wondered if he was alive. I heard stories about horses striking the top of their head – known as the poll- and not surviving the injury. It was a blessing the cement structure was there and that is what he hit with the base of his neck so he did  not hit the top of his head.

When he stood, the muscles of his shoulders and back tensed. Frantically, I called my friends and a local veterinarian. My friends came immediately. The veterinarian administered medication and took xrays. Sol broke bones called the withers at the base of his neck.  These bones are not back bones, but boney projections off the back bones.

Even though the veterinarian assured me he would be ok, I couldn’t leave him. I pulled my car into the isle of Sol’s barn and spent the night. During the night, I was awakened by a loud snorting/snoring sound. I jumped out of my car and frantically ran into Solomon’s stall to find him quietly lying there on the comfortable shavings. He looked up at me as if to say, ‘What’s wrong, mom?’

I stood for a moment, catching my composure, happy to see him ok, and it came again- the loud snorting. It was the horse in the next stall. I laughed, patted Sol on the neck, kissed his face, and, relieved, I went back to sleep. The next day my friends drove me and Solomon to the Veterinary Hospital hours from our home. They knew I was too upset to drive my horse myself. I was assured  again that Solomon would heal and be fine. His bones did heal and we rode again and again and again.

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