

### Waking the Prodigal  
(A Memoir of Faith)  
By Genovi James

Copyright 2015 Genovi James  
Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including Internet usage, without written permission of the author.

eBook formatting by www.gopublished.com

Dedicated to my husband and our children – through whom every single one of God's blessings have come to me on earth.

### Table of Contents

Chapter 1: _"alienated from the life of God because of their ignorance..."_

Chapter 2: _"For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways."_

Chapter 3: _"I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you"_

Chapter 4: " _and they may come to their senses and escape"_

Chapter 5: _"No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself..."_

Chapter 6: _'Woman, behold, your son!'_

Chapter 7: _"See to it that you do not despise one of these little ones..."_

Chapter 8: _"A stubborn fool considers his own way the right one..."_

Chapter 9: _"On their hands they will bear you up"_

Chapter 10: _"Are they not all ministering spirits...?"_

Chapter 11: _"Before they call I will answer..."_

Chapter 12: _"Hear my cry, O God; Give heed to my prayer."_

Chapter 13: _"As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you..."_

Chapter 14: _"And the peace of God that surpasses all understanding..."_

Chapter 15: _"He who believes in the Son HAS eternal life..."_

Chapter 16: _"They do not know nor do they understand; they walk about in darkness"_

Chapter 17: _"And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again..."_

Chapter 18: _"And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled only to those..."_

Chapter 19: _"to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light..."_

Chapter 20: _"The One forming light and creating darkness..."_

Chapter 21: _"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you..."_

Chapter 22: _"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean..."_

### Waking the Prodigal  
(A Memoir of Faith)

Chapter 1

"... _alienated from the life of God because of their ignorance..."  
Ephesians 4:18_

_The people came out to see what had happened, and when they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone sitting at the foot of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind. And they were afraid. Those who had seen it_ (Jesus freeing the man from demonic possession) _told them how the one who had been possessed by demons had been healed.... Jesus got into the boat... The man from whom the demons had gone begged that he might stay with Jesus, but Jesus sent him away, saying,_ _"Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you._ _" Luke 8:35-39_

In 2005, I heard this passage from Scripture preached, and the pastor asked how many of us had done just that – had told those 'from our home' what God had done for us? I realized that, in the prior 15 years I had changed a great deal, and since I was always living a continent away, no one from my 'home' probably had a clue as to what had happened to bring about this change; and so perhaps it was time to tell. This little booklet is what I wrote to my family at that time; back in 2005 before the craziness of the kids' teen years began (which I detailed in my other book – 'Prodigal's Steps'). And so I have labeled this story 'Waking the Prodigal', since it details the events that occurred in my life to convert me from a modern day 'Christian Catholic' (aka a 'Good Housekeeping' Christian Catholic – those who believe Christianity is about being 'nice', 'tolerant' and 'accepting' (of any and all evil)) into someone who begins to search and understand the true power of Christ to _overcome_ that evil.

For the changes in my life, beliefs and personality had come about due to some pretty miraculous occurrences, which at the time seemed odd and I tried to explain away. But as years went by I came to realize that such things don't just _happen_ to most people. I still do not know why they happened to me, except to state that perhaps God knew how hard headed and stubborn I was, full of intellectual knowledge and pride, and so He had to use a battering ram to break through. I guess He knew best because, when I look back at the incredible things that happened to me and the fact that after seeing them with my own eyes, hearing them with my own ears, and feeling them with my own senses – it still took me almost 15 years to 'get it'; I think it would have taken a lifetime (if ever) had He not been so abrupt. I can only thank Him for not shaking His head, sighing, and just giving up....

Nonetheless, this is my tale.

Chapter 2

" _For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways."  
_ _Psalms 91:11_

Shortly after Rachel was born in 1990, I was driving down the road in Point Mugu, California doing my basic Sunday errand running. JJ was stationed there, and since I was a true faithful liberal yuppie, I was _driving_ my recyclables miles away from my home. Those were the days before recycling had started and I was a true earth lover who was single handedly 'saving' the environment (though the gas used to drive through countless miles of deserted farm roads to do that recycling may have negated those efforts – but I digress). I was approaching an intersection on one of those back country roads, listening to the radio blaring and enjoying being away from JJ and all the children (Jessica 5 yrs., Colby 19 months and Rachel, a newborn); when suddenly, a strong forceful voice said loudly, right next to me, _"YOU WILL NEVER LIVE TO SEE YOUR CHILDREN AGAIN."_

Just like that.

I immediately slammed on the brakes – expecting a tractor-trailer to come careening through the intersection. But there was nothing. My first instinct was to keep from danger, and so I looked to protect myself before my mind next began to think – _"wait a minute- where did that voice come from?!?"_

The radio was still blaring on the same song; I was alone in the car, nothing in sight except farm fields as far as I could see. Blinking and shaking my head, I immediately began rationalizing, _"I must have imagined it,"_ but hard to convince yourself when you just lived through it. Nonetheless, I shook it off and continued on.

My final errand was the recycling facility – in an industrial park, at the end of a long road. The drop off point was around in back; you pulled up, got out of your car and dumped everything in. As I got closer to the industrial park, the hair on the back of my neck started rising inexplicably, my skin started crawling and every part of my instincts began screaming _"flee!!!"_

But rationality won out, and I pressed on. The place was deserted, not a building open on a Sunday, the long road was empty – and I pressed on. Slowly I began to drive through the narrow road around to the back, and that's where I passed the car full of men.

They looked like trouble. They were obviously drunk or stoned, 5 or 6 young men, appearing to be migrant workers – but suddenly very excited to see a single young woman drive past them in this abandoned park, miles from nowhere. They began pointing at me and jumping up and down. Already nervous due to the Voice in my car, I finally decided to go with my instincts and FLEE.

But there was no way out.

So I made a way. When I got around the building, instead of getting out of the car to toss my recycling or turning around to try to get past them again, I gunned the engine and drove right through the farm field at the parking lots end. As I flew out of the field on the other side of the building, I looked back and sure enough, the men were out of their car, which they had used to block off the return road with, and they were lying in wait for me. As I sped the car out of that industrial park that day I knew one thing – if I had not heard that Voice on that country road, I would have _"never lived to see my children again."_

Chapter 3

" _I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you"  
John 15:19_

But life goes on, and with 3 young children – quite crazily – and so I quickly forgot 'the Voice'. The kids were constantly sick, I was constantly sick, even the dog was constantly sick – and JJ, due to his job as a US Navy pilot, was constantly gone. My memory of those days was carrying an infant in the front pack on my chest, a toddler in the backpack on my back and dragging a practically unconscious 70-pound dog under my arm back and forth to the vet. (And I wonder why my neck hurts so much today...)

But still something was gnawing at me because, being a person who has to make rational sense out of everything, that Voice made no sense. Was it a dream? While driving?! I just couldn't explain it away. Nor could I explain the overwhelming desire to go get a bible. Something seemed to be telling me that I might find some answers in there. But I had read a bible before in Catholic school – and just about the time I got to Noah and the animals, I started falling asleep, so why should I try it again? Anyway, time went on as I silenced the questions to deal with the facts: 3 small children and a husband rarely home.

We moved to Orange Park, Florida in 1992, where things continued to be difficult. JJ and I lived totally separate lives. His life was the Navy; mine was the kids. I was sure that my difficult days were all his, and the Navy's, fault. Life was all just so hard. The Navy was constant pressure, the kids were constant pressure and JJ and I, although married 10+ years, barely knew each other. With his Navy deployments, we'd spent less than half that time together.

And still the gnawing feeling to go get a bible.

We were only there a couple months when JJ came home with the news that he was leaving on deployment to join a squadron already underway out at sea, as soon as he finished training.

And still the feeling to go get a bible.

The other overwhelming feeling was my increasing hostility toward JJ's mother, Mary. She had recently become 'born again', and for some strange reason the very thought of her claiming to be a 'Christian' infuriated me. I had many memories of the mean things she had done to me before she was 'saved' – so I was quite unconvinced. Now she talked about Jesus all the time and it made me want to scream. Who was SHE? I went to church every single Sunday; she, however, had rarely gone before! Why did she have to actually talk about Jesus so much, and about being 'saved'? Weren't we all _good_ people, weren't we _all_ 'saved'? My anger grew so great that I was spitting nails at the mere mention of her name.

And then one day JJ's folks came to visit. Mary told me that she could tell how much I had begun to dislike her and then she opened her bible to Ephesians 6:12 where it states that we fight not against human beings, but essentially against the spiritual forces that are directing/controlling them. In so many words she asked, _'just what are the spiritual forces directing you Genovi?'_

That question made me mad, but it also got under my skin. I went out and got a bible.

I began with the Gospel of John because the lady in the bookstore told me to. _"John was Jesus's best friend,"_ she reasoned _, "don't you think he would know Him best?"_

And so for the next 3 years I spent every morning, one hour before the kids got up, reading this bible. Some days I would get one paragraph in and no more; but I persevered. And slowly, I began to change.

" _For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down and do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful... so shall My Word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void, but shall do My will, achieving the end for which I sent it."_ Is. 55:10.

That was when the miracles started in earnest.

Chapter 4

"... _and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will."  
2 Timothy 2:26_

During one visit with JJ's folks, Mary gave me a book entitled The Lies Satan Tells. It was essentially a book that claimed that as long as Satan has us convinced that he doesn't exist, he's free to do whatever he wants in this world – we're never watching our back to protect ourselves from him. That kind of blew me away, since I had never really thought Satan DID exist – weren't those just psychologically ill people that the ignorant bible writers labeled as demon possessed? (At least that's what I had been taught in my _Christian_ schools, my psychology major, and the ever increasingly pagan American culture.) And anyway, weren't we a little too sophisticated for this kind of thinking?

But the book made sense out of a lot of things, and so I kept reading it. I prayed that God would let me know the truth. Smack dab in the middle of reading this book, I went to visit some friends. Theirs was a difficult marriage, and anger filled their home. There was a lot of hostility and, since their children were grown, the anger was now directed at each other.

I remember sitting at their table listening to them, once again, argue about something. Suddenly, I began telling them about this book that I was reading and how it was opening my eyes to the fact that maybe the things that anger us about each other are things that Satan plays on. That he is controlling our reactions by playing with our minds. My friends looked at me like I was crazy, and I wasn't totally sure that I wasn't, what with beginning to believe this stuff! But nonetheless, I described the issues as given in this book.

It got late and so I decided to spend the night in their spare bedroom. And that's when it got really scary. I woke up in the middle of the night for some reason: I don't remember if it was a noise, a feeling or what. But suddenly I realized that I was not alone in the room. I opened my eyes and there, standing at the side of my bed, was a 'thing'. It was close enough to touch. It was blacker than the blackness in the room – which is how I was able to discern its presence. It was solid, but seemed to have undefined edges. It was like a hulking monster, which is the best I can do to describe it.

But that was actually not the scariest part. The scariest part was the feeling that came from this thing. It was actually like waves that were oozing and coming off of it toward me, and the waves were pure _hatred._ I could actually see and sense this hate. I had never felt that much pure hatred in my entire life.

And the voice. I still don't know if it was actually spoken or if I just 'heard it' in my mind. Anyway, all I could hear over and over was this horrible, gritty, mocking voice that asked, _"Who do you think YOU are?! You are NOTHING compared to me!! I RULE this place!! Who do YOU, a puny Christian, think you are in comparison to ME!?"_

And then it would laugh in a cruel, mocking voice. I pulled the covers over my head and proceeded to say every prayer I knew, and even all the ones I had forgotten. I prayed until I fell back asleep. I slept fitfully and would keep starting awake, only to realize that it was still there, still laughing at me, mocking me, scorning me, sending the most incredible hatred I've ever experienced, toward me. I could actually FEEL how much it hated me. It was terrifying. Morning came and I woke again and realized it was gone. I got up quickly, apologized for having to leave so soon and RAN out of that place. By evening of that day, I had already convinced myself that I had just imagined it all; it surely must have been a dream. But it was so REAL! And I tend to know the difference between being awake and being asleep – but it's pretty amazing what our rational minds can explain away – especially when they have been so well trained to deny reality.

(Exhibit #1 of the denial of reality: Killing an unborn child by pulling it from the womb, harvesting its organs to sell, and then crushing its head is not murder – it's simply 'choice'... If that's not the biggest denial of reality; then I don't know what is. But that is the accepted non-reality in the USA today – among many. We've all been weaned on them, and so we are all masters at ignoring the facts.)

But anyway, time went on.

Chapter 5

" _No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light."  
2 Corinthians 11:14_

JJ was getting ready to leave on another deployment and so I joined an Old Testament study class that was just beginning in my church and would last for the 6 months while he was gone – it was something to do and a way to talk with ADULTS while I was home alone (with 3 little kids). How could I resist? The class started before he left and I went to a few of them. The teacher was elderly, and seemed to know the Bible well; until we got to Abraham and Sarah and she began saying that they probably never existed; they were just archetypal tales from ancient times. I listened for a while and then my Irish got up. In other words – I got mad.

I asked her if she believed that essentially the bible was untrue and just a bunch of stories. She replied that no one had ever actually found the bones of Abraham or Sarah. So I responded that not finding bones does _not_ prove that someone did not exist – after all, what is the definition of _Faith_?

" _Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."_ Hebrews 11:1 – Thank you St. Paul!

She didn't have an answer. But the seed of doubt concerning this woman was planted in my mind, and I was watchful from then on.

And then came the class where this elderly teacher showed up and told us that we were all going to find our "spiritual guide". We would dim the lights and shut our eyes while she described our 'journey' down roads, along a river, up to and inside a castle. In the castle, we would then find a box that had our 'spiritual guide' in it. We were to 'open' the box and invite our 'spiritual guide' into our lives.

So we all sat there like a bunch of jaboneys and did it. This was a woman's class; remember? This is what we do. Heaven forbid anyone not be 'nice'.

This exercise was actually really strange; because when she was discussing sailing down a river, I suddenly felt a cool breeze blowing on my face. It did seem awfully life-like, but on the other hand I was also thinking it was pretty stupid; a bunch of women sitting in the dark with our eyes closed.

When she finished, we all politely remarked on our 'journey' and what it meant for each of us. I kind of threw something in there, said it was 'relaxing' or some such thing – whatever. Everyone else responded in kind.

Except for one woman.

She was probably about my age, a little younger. She began with great enthusiasm telling us all about her journey – but her journey was _way_ more descriptive than the teacher's. When we were going down the river, she claimed, there were African safari animals all around on the banks

_("that's a good one,"_ I thought)

and then when we got to the castle, it wasn't like a British royal castle, it was like a Far Eastern one, the kind in India, etc.

( _"Wow!"_ I surmised, _"She must have done this before!")_

And then, she went on to describe the box in great detail. For it wasn't like a regular trunk, it was also like a Far Eastern one – with all these foreign carvings all over it, and THEN when she opened it.......

That's when it all got weird.

She suddenly stopped speaking. Her mouth opened wide, and this unearthly moaning came out. She began pawing at the ground with one of her feet and scratching at the tabletop with her hand. That alone was weird enough until suddenly her actual face changed. While I stared, with my jaw dropped open, her face flattened out and her head grew taller until she took on the appearance of some awful manly looking beast. It scared the heck out of me, and everybody else, because suddenly everyone looked away from her and started discussing the finer aspects of the Old Testament – _anything_ to take our attention away from _her_. We all pretty much completely ignored her and went on with the class. After a few minutes she seemed to come out of it and realized that we had moved on.

" _Wait!"_ she exclaimed, _"I haven't told you the best part yet!! When I opened my box all these black shapes came flying out of it right into me!! It was so amazing!!"_

We all responded _'how nice'_ and completely ignored her again.

Well after this, I went home and told JJ.

I think it might be the one and only time I've ever heard him sigh...

He then commented that all the other Navy wives do things like take pottery classes, try basket weaving, learn gourmet cooking, and the like. _His wife_ , however, has to take classes where people get possessed by demons.

As he continued to pack his crew bag to leave on the ship, he asked that I promise him I would not go back. As it turned out, I was not the only woman who did not return; most did not. After a few days I again began believing that I had imagined it all and so I sought out some of the other women.

They all admitted to seeing something that they didn't want to discuss any further. It was like they were afraid to even talk about it. As one older lady said _"something got into that woman that was not from this world, and that is all I have to say."_

And so those are two of my 'battering ram' tales where I finally got the big picture that yes, there is a devil and demonic beings and yes, they do interact with and try to influence each of us, and yes, we are sure in big trouble if we think the devil doesn't exist and/or we mess with things that invite him in.

Chapter 6

' _Woman, behold, your son!'  
John 19: 26-27_

It might help also, for you to realize what the 'spiritual condition' of Florida was during the time we were there. There were so many satanic cults that law enforcement had actually taken notice. Every so often you would read in the paper of yet another runaway teen's body that was found in the woods – a victim of a ritualistic, satanic worship killing. There was no doubt that evil was very strong there. When I called my Mother and told her of the incident at church, she called her priest. It turned out that he was a priest who did exorcisms. I found out that he often traveled to Florida for these exorcisms; however, he always had to travel in a group of priests for anonymity. If the satanic cults found out which priest was the exorcist, they would try to kill him. _They_ obviously believed in the reality, and the power, of the spiritual world.

I was shocked. How was this kind of stuff going on in America and I had never even heard of it! In fact, stop and think – what do YOU know about the spiritual battles being fought in America today? Ever see it on the nighttime news? We see people inexplicably doing horrific things to others while neighbors and family are paraded out to say, _"We have NO IDEA how this happened! This is NOT the child we knew!!"_

Make a note to self: when you see this kind of stuff – Satan is involved. Prior generations – that recognized reality – would acknowledge that and warn everyone to turn back to God in order to prevent it. That warning would save lives. Now we just shake our heads at these 'unexplainable' situations that keep occurring over and over again. Must be because we are so much more 'sophisticated'...

Yet this conversation with my mother was the beginning of my lessons on the fact that most of what we hear in the 'news' is just fluff. The real stuff of living is going on unmentioned. But that doesn't mean there are not soldiers fighting the battle. They are all around us. They are fighting each and every day. And they are doing so often unknown, and always unnoticed. For they don't look like 'warriors' to us, because physical strength has nothing to do with it – it is all spiritual.

" _Finally, draw your strength from the Lord and from his mighty power. Put on the armor of God so that you may be able to stand firm against the tactics of the devil. For our struggle is not with flesh and blood but with the principalities, with the powers, with the world rulers of this present darkness, with the evil spirits in the heavens. Therefore, put on the armor of God, that you may be able to resist on the evil day and, having done everything, to hold your ground." Ephesians 6:10-13_

So that little 90 pound grandma you just passed who smiled at you: she may have had a hand in keeping you safe today. Maybe her prayer will be the one that gets you in heaven! You just don't know. What you DO know is: she will never be on the 5 o'clock news as a person who is saving the world...

But she is. Along with countless, unnamed others.

Nonetheless, about a year after moving to Florida I discovered that God was sending us another child. Rachel was about 2, Colby about 3 and Jessica about 7. My nephew David, in 8th grade, was also staying with us (the poor thing). We had actually taken him in after a visit I had with my sister. He had come home from school – and tried to kill himself. That was when it was discovered that he was being horribly bullied in the neighborhood. They lived in Connecticut, that progressive state that had long before done away with the silliness of religion.

It showed.

It was obvious, I told my sister, that David needed to come live with us in Florida to get him out of the dangerous environment they were living in – aka, get him away from the bullies, since nothing ever happens to them. I took David back with me, and they listed their home for sale. So poor David was an 8th grader living with a house full of adoring little cousins who pestered him constantly. Hey, it took the pressure off of me – so I was happy!

Anyway, the day I found out I was pregnant was the same day that JJ came home and told me that his ship had been picked for early deployment, and workups would begin soon. 'Deployment' is when the aircraft carrier leaves for 6-9 months to travel around the world being a 'presence' – ready to stop bad guys at a moment's notice. 'Workups' are when the pilots leave home for months PRIOR to the 6-9 month deployment so that they can _practice_ stopping bad guys at a moment's notice.

Get it?

During JJ's last few years in the Navy, he was away from home over 300 days a year. From what I hear, it's even worse now.

In a Navy family, sacrifice is your daily bread.

Nonetheless, the day I found out I was pregnant with our 4th child was also the day I discovered JJ would be gone for most of the pregnancy, birth and the baby's first few months. He left for 8 weeks of preparation just at the moment my worst morning sickness kicked in. It had always started at about the 6th week of pregnancy and continued until at least week 14. JJ was due to be gone for all of it.

The second day of his absence I laid on the sofa trying to get the nausea under control enough so that I could get up and continue cooking dinner without throwing up all over the place. To say that I was feeling helpless and discouraged was an understatement...

I lay there close to tears, listening to the children whining for dinner. Looking up I said out loud, _"Mary, Mother of God. I do not know if you are listening, I'm not sure if you can hear or even care. All I do know is that you were a mother also. You know what I am going through. And I just cannot do this by myself. There is just no way that I can make it through these next weeks unless you do something. Please take this morning sickness from me. I am responsible for all of these children; I MUST be able to care for them through this. Please, please help me."_

And I listened.

And I waited.

Nothing.

Still feeling like hell, I got up and trudged through dinner. Sick, and now feeling abandoned and like an idiot for expecting something to actually happen. Somehow I made it through that night and fell into bed. The next dawn I woke up to children calling for me and groaned, remembering my circumstances. Throwing the covers off I sat up, and waited for the first wave of nausea to hit so I could run to the bathroom and get the vomiting over with. And that's when I realized.

Nothing.

It was gone.

I got up. Still nothing.

I walked to the bathroom. Still nothing.

And yet.....

The tiredness and other symptoms of pregnancy I also had in those first weeks were still there, but the nausea, the crippling part of it all, was gone. And I realized that Mary had answered my prayer. She was holding the worst back so that I could do it, so that I could care for my children while JJ was gone. So that I could have relief.

And as the day, and then weeks, went by without a single moment of nausea, I continued to be amazed, each and every second, at the love, compassion and care of Our Lady, who is Mother to us all. For when Jesus said to her from the cross, " _Woman, behold your son_!" he wasn't only giving her John to love – he was giving her _all of us_...

Chapter 7

" _See to it that you do not despise one of these little ones, because I tell you, their angels in heaven always have access to my Father in heaven."  
Matthew 18:10_

As it was, Mary played a large role in this pregnancy, hence Sarah's name of MarySarah. Sarah came at a very difficult time in our lives, as JJ was facing a potential job transition out of the Navy. I got through each and every day solely through the use of constant prayer. At 35, my body was already pretty beat up from the other pregnancies. Lugging all the children while carrying an unborn child took a toll on my insides. Each medical check the doctor was surprised that I was still carrying the baby; she just didn't think I could make it through the pregnancy. At the same time, the stress of JJ's job transition was huge. Not sure if we would still have medical insurance at the time of the birth, I was contacting midwives concerning home births, and studying up on it all. It was crazy.

As it turned out however, the fact that the pregnancy was difficult was a blessing – the Navy base didn't want to have to deal with any problems so they let me seek a doctor in town (which the Navy paid for – imagine that!). Thankfully, I wouldn't have to go through another birth in a Naval hospital where the policy was _"What?! Waste anesthesia on you? What if someone who is_ _REALLY_ _in pain comes in?"_ (Yes, that is a direct quote by a Navy doctor.)

So having a doctor in town meant that I could actually have pain medication during the birth! Thank God! It also meant that I could have a doctor who used the latest stuff – the main thing being ultrasounds. I had rarely ever had one in the Navy, but the civilian doctor did them routinely. And when, at 38 weeks, she did another one and discovered there were problems and Sarah had to be borne ASAP, it meant the difference between Sarah being a live birth or (had she been under Navy care) most likely a still birth 2 weeks later. Seeing the Blessed Mother's hand in the whole thing, we spent our time in the hospital trying to come up with a name for Sarah that would honor her. Finally we just went with MarySarah, but with the intent to call her Sarah.

Sarah seemed a little different from the start. While still a baby, anytime we drove by a church she would point her little hand at it and say " _Jesus_!!" It kind of took us by surprise. Then, when she was about 1 year old, she began folding her little hands in her high chair and saying " _God_ " before eating. JJ and I just looked at each other and said, _"Well, I guess it would be a good idea to start saying grace...."_

Little things like that happened all the time; it was funny. After her birth it was decided that JJ would stay in the Navy after all and so we hunkered down hoping for an early retirement. JJ prepared for more deployments and I continued my quest for more information concerning God.

Chapter 8

" _A stubborn fool considers his own way the right one, but a person who listens to advice is wise."  
Proverbs 12:15_

And so I began reading up on angels. Surely, I reasoned, if there are demons – there must be angels. I read that we each have a Guardian Angel, a being that stays with us throughout our lives to help us through it. Someone that, when we die, we will finally see and say; _"Oh here you are!"_ because we will have unknowingly 'known' them all our lives. And so, once again, I prayed that God would show me the truth in all of this.

This was during the time that JJ was gone on deployment. He left for 6 months the day before Sarah turned one in October, and from that moment on, everyone was either sick, or hurt, or in crisis. I think that his last night home was the last night I slept through – until he came back. There was always a sick child, a crisis, or some such thing to awaken me and set me running. Of course, the night he returned; everyone slept fine. (It used to make me so MAD!) But even so, afterwards this came to have meaning for me. I began to realize that the man is the spiritual head of the home, whether he knows it or not. When he is present, the home is safer. When he is gone, there is more spiritual attack under way from Satan's forces.

You would think I would have figured this out much sooner. I mean, I have gone the gamut from being attacked by bears, to hearing doctors tell me that one or the other of my children was just not going to make it (Colby when 2, MarySarah I mention later). I've sat in more hospital emergency rooms than I can count – with a child suffering from dislocated arms & elbows, jaw bones visible through split open chins, intestines twisted, and so forth.

And aside from the bear attack – all these crises happened when JJ was gone and I was by myself. The bear attack, however, did have a lesson in it (aside from the fact that bears are very big, very wild – and they can **kill** you). The attack happened when JJ and I were camping... _before_ we were married. Like most other young adults of today – the concept of spending the night together before we were married was just not a big deal. However, as we discovered the hard way, when you walk outside of the laws of God – you have made your choice – and it is not Him. Therefore, you also walk outside of His protection.

Almost.

For He can still bring good out of evil; and we were fortunate to get away alive. (Oh ok, I'll digress with _The Bear Story_ – cause it's a good one...)

We had gone to Skyline Drive in Virginia, known for its rugged beauty. I had grown up camping, and so I considered myself 'the expert.' Well, camping in a park in Connecticut ain't quite the same thing as the wilderness – but in my 'expert' opinion –

I was clueless...

We joked about bears and when a deer came to the campsite, we even commented that if deer were around – there couldn't be any bears! I'm not sure where we came up with this 'expert' idea; but I suspect it was... me.

Anyway, even so, for some strange reason... we were unprepared for the bears.

We first saw the younger of the two; which I believe was called a yearling or some other cute little name. Let me tell you – yearlings don't look so cute. They look like huge bears (think of a big gangly teenager). And like untrained teenagers – they don't behave very well.

I was into photography then; I had been a photographer for the college newspaper, developed my own pictures and all that stuff (which, by the way, I figured made me an 'expert' in that too. Humility is not exactly my strong point.)

So when JJ saw the bear – which was on the hillside opposite us, he thought it was so cool that he picked up my camera with the zoom lens.

The one that kind of looks like a gun.

I must say, the roaring took us somewhat by surprise – but got us moving pretty quickly. At the sound of the 1st roar, our attention was drawn a little further up the hill and there, as our own eyeball 'zooms' focused; we saw an absolutely MASSIVE bear. Let's just call her 'Mad Momma'.

Mad Momma must have thought we were gonna shoot the teen.

Well, after that, as I mentioned, things happened quickly. JJ picked up the food and ran off to get it out of the camp.

" **Remember to always keep food out of your campsite in case of bears!"** was the sign at the forest's entrance – too little, too late.

Suddenly the teenager started moseying down toward the camp; so I did the only intelligent thing that my 'expert' opinion told me to do. I jumped into the tent... the cloth one.

Um, have you ever seen the claws on a bear?

So when JJ got back to the camp, all he saw was the bear moseying around the tent. He decided to distract it and scare it away by shaking a tree branch. Well that distracted it, but didn't exactly scare it away.

Think back to the last time you told your teenager that he/she really better listen to you OR ELSE!

Same outcome.

The bear got up on its hind legs and started swinging those big claws at JJ. JJ didn't even need to consult 'the expert' to know what to do: he went right up the closest tree. While in the tree – he realized he should have picked a bigger one.

No worries however, since the bear gave up the chase and came back to the tent. Suddenly, as I sat there wondering what was going on, a big claw came right through the (did I mention what it was made of) CLOTH side of the tent. I did the only thing that an expert could do in those circumstances.

I screamed my head off.

That actually startled the teenager, and he lumbered off. I guess he didn't want to hear that sound again. The minute he lumbered off, JJ shouted, "RUN!!!" I desperately searched for the car keys, and grabbed a small hatchet. He grabbed a hunting knife and we RAN for the car.

Did I tell you where we had left the car?

Well, when we first got there earlier in the day, we parked the car in the parking lot and began our trek to find a good camping site. We walked _down_ the mountain, resting several times to get our breath due to the exertion. We intelligently picked a site on the edge of a cliff – completely blocking off any kind of escape in that direction. By the grace of God, the teenage bear walked back toward his mother, leaving open the only other direction available. We ran for it.

Now I don't mean we jogged, or loped, or we ran and rested, or we 'paced ourselves.' We RAN – straight up the side of a mountain. Fast as I ever run before.

No... Faster.

And guess what? When we got to the car – we weren't even winded. Uphill the entire way, couple miles or so – and not even breathing hard.

And that's my lesson on adrenaline.

We stopped at the Ranger station on the way out to tell them our tale. They said that they were going to have to do something – this same bear had rushed at a ranger just the week before. It was getting dangerous. (Not exactly new news to us!) Then the ranger asked if we wanted him to go back with us to the campsite and get our stuff. JJ asked if he had a gun. He said no. Suspecting that he had lost his mind; we just left.

We stopped at the first little store we passed and went in. JJ got a 6 pack. I got a bottle of Tylenol. For some odd reason – my head was killing me.

We got back to JJ's house where his sisters jumped up and down chanting, _"We knew you couldn't doooo it! We knew you couldn't doooo it!"_ They had told us earlier in the day that we weren't 'brave enough' to camp outside in the woods. Guess they were right!

I remember afterwards thinking that if someone came up and tried to mug me, I would probably laugh right at them. When you have seen the real power behind a wild beast – people just don't hack it anymore... Mankind is so puny compared to God's creation. We've just become so insulated from it – that we forget.

Chapter 9

" _On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone."  
Psalms 91:12._

But back to Florida and JJ's deployments. I also came to realize during those years that, during times of attack, there is also much more spiritual protection from God. For instance, in all those months with sick children – I never once got sick myself. I was always healthy and able to physically deal with things. It was pretty remarkable considering that I was operating with almost no sleep, and constant physical exhaustion. But nonetheless, there were days when I felt that if I just turned around fast enough, I would see the angels protecting us – the presence was that strong. But so was the other presence, and one after another we all fell under attack.

During this deployment, Sarah went from ear infection to ear infection, always starting in the middle of the night. The kids were crabby and missing their dad. Colby stopped talking to just about everybody and started hitting people a lot. They fought all the time. The friends who had assured JJ that they would 'help' me out while he was gone actually had full lives of their own and after the first week or so, they moved on with their own busy schedules. By Thanksgiving I was feeling pretty tired and pretty low. JJ would not return until Easter time, and already I was fading. How would I manage?

Those were the thoughts in my brain that Thanksgiving, in Florida – just 4 sick, crabby children and me. I kept waiting for family to call, but no one did. Cooked a full turkey meal, with kids underfoot. Do you even _think_ they appreciated it?! By the end of the day I was sitting at JJ's desk, paying bills and feeling _pretty_ sorry for myself.... A sad sight to be sure.

I had long since forgotten my prayer about angels, but God had not forgotten about me.

For just before bedtime, Sarah toddled into the living room and began to walk up to me. When she passed the tall halogen lamp, she knocked into it and it, in turn, tipped and tapped the wood shelf on the wall, right above her head. This was my wood 'display' shelf that held my collection of antique glass bottles and ceramic figurines, including my Lladro angel. The glass bottles were the old-fashioned kind, brown and dark, with glass about an inch thick. They weighed a ton, which might explain why the shelf sprang off the wall so easily.

Now the shelf was directly over Sarah's head, and gravity causes things to go _down_ ; at least that is my 'non-expert' observation. There is, to this day, still no natural explanation as to how this shelf began falling, then stopped and slowly traveled sideways in the air until it hooked over the top of the lamp, causing it to hinge downward at an angle. The falling end came to a stop right at Sarah's feet with a giant explosion of shattering glass. There was glass everywhere. The sound alone caused her to scream in terror. I leapt up thinking that she was surely pierced through with glass shards. I grabbed her from the middle of this glass pile and looked all over her body – not a scratch.

Once I realized she was unhurt, my mind leapt to my next thought; which sadly, in my 'feeling sorry for myself' frame of mind, was not a thankful one... _"Great!!! All alone on Thanksgiving, my glass collection is destroyed and now I have this huge mess to clean up!"_

Once I got everyone settled back down and safely in their rooms, I trudged back into the living room to survey the mess. I had to blink back tears of frustration and discouragement. Most of the big pieces of glass still lay in a tall pile. I resolutely got a trash bag and began peeling each piece off. Everything was just shattered to smithereens. Big heavy thick glass bottles reduced to shards. Piece by piece I picked off the pile and tossed them in the bag. Nothing salvageable. And then I got to the final heavy piece and when I lifted it up I just froze.

I couldn't believe my eyes, because there, under pounds of shattered glass was my delicate, ceramic Lladro _Angel_. Not a scratch, not a chip. Perfect. And clear as a bell the words came into my mind, _"for [I] will command [My] angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone."_ Psalm 91:11-12.

Tears came to my eyes when I realized that this, too, was the answer to a prayer. That the God who made the universe took time to send this miracle just for me, just to speak to my heart so I would know that although I felt all alone in the world, He was there.

The tenderness of His love washed over me and it was something I could not fathom, could not believe. He loved _me_?? _I_ didn't even love _me_!!! Didn't He know how really _awful_ I was?!

And I knew then that just as I loved Sarah even though she toddled around and made messes, God loved me as I go through life doing pretty much the same thing.

And all this time when I thought it was Him keeping his distance, ashamed and embarrassed at the loser I really was, it was really _me –_ afraid to go home, afraid He would 'find me out' and find me oh so lacking. "Oh my gosh!" I realized. "He _knows_ _me_ and still He _loves_ me!"

St. John, Jesus' best friend, said it best: _"We love because He first loved us."_ 1 John 4:19.

It was hard to imagine, but it gave me hope.

Chapter 10

" _Are they not all ministering spirits sent out to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation?"  
Hebrews 1:14_

And the deployment went on. A perfect example of my life occurred on the first evening that I was able to get a babysitter and finally go out. JJ had been gone about 2 months; and this was my first hour or two away from the children. The neighborhood playgroup moms were having their annual Christmas party and I was getting OUT of that house and going to talk with grownups!! I got dinner finished and was cleaning up the kitchen, when the kids asked if they could roast marshmallows in the fireplace. On occasion we roasted marshmallows in the fireplace as a great treat. Since they were sad that I was leaving them (for 2 hours?), I got a fire going and sat roasting 'mellows' with them.

The phone rang in the kitchen and I got up to answer it. Suddenly I heard a scream. Jessica came running into the kitchen with her eye on fire and then _I_ screamed. I dropped the phone, grabbed Jessica and shoved her head under the kitchen faucet. I realized it was not her eye on fire, but a marshmallow stuck over her eyelid and upper part of her face. I tried to pull it off as it was still smoldering. With it came her skin, and much screaming. The neighbor who had called came running over; she ran back home for aloe vera; saying it would soothe the burn. More screaming. My other neighbor arrived to take me to the party, she came in, looked at the eye and said it would be fine, just ice it. New to the neighborhood, and married to a doctor, she appeared to be a nurse who knew what she was talking about. Jessica of course was in terrible pain. The burn started on her cheek, over her nose and eyelid, up to her eyebrow. It was raw, red skin and I gave her doses of pain killers, sent the neighbors home and sat by her bed until 2 am holding ice on her face, listening to her cry and telling her she would be alright, her freckles would hide the scar she worried about (6th grader, need I say more), and she still looked beautiful even with the burn.

Inside I was getting more worried. I knew nothing about burns, and this one was on her face. In the days before 'google' and the internet – there was no way to find out.

She finally cried herself to sleep about 2 am and I, exhausted, fell into bed. At 2:30 I heard more crying. Thinking it was Jessica again, I jumped up. She was still sound asleep, but standing in the crib was Sarah, screaming and holding her ear. Another infection. I got her up, gave her pain killers, and rocked her in the rocker until about 5 when she stopped crying and drifted off to sleep – just about the time Colby and Rachel were getting up. My day was just beginning – and it obviously would involve two long medical appointments.

JJ was still not due home for 4 more months.

But every time I felt that I simply could not take it anymore, God would send me something to make me remember that He was there. For instance, JJ's distant cousin was much older and – it turned out – a burn care specialist. JJ hadn't seen him in probably 20 years, but nonetheless, he called me after hearing the news, and told me everything I needed to know. It was such a blessing, and relief.

And yet God had other means to reassure me that He was there. Shortly after this crisis, I was outside in the garage on a ladder trying to get up into the attic. It was early December, and that's where all the Christmas decorations were stored. The kids were inside, Rachel napping in her room and Sarah asleep in her crib – sick as usual. Suddenly the door from the kitchen to the garage flung open and Colby came running out of the house – looking like he had seen a ghost. _"Mommy!!"_ he exclaimed, _"There's a lady in the hall outside of Sarah's door!!!"_

Now I knew that all the doors into the house were locked and the only way in was past me in the garage – and I surely would have noticed some strange lady circumnavigating my ladder! _"What are you talking about? What lady?"_ I responded.

" _The white lady!!"_ Colby blurted out.

I stepped down a rung or two, _"Colby, what white lady?"_

" _Mommy, there is a lady in a long white dress and she is walking in the hall in front of Sarah's door! I JUST SAW HER!!!"_

Suddenly it hit me, an angel!! And she was letting herself be seen in front of Sarah's door – oh my gosh, was Sarah in danger?! I leapt from the ladder and ran into the house. Doors still locked up tight – and no lady in a white gown. I dashed into Sarah's room and checked on her in the crib, sleeping soundly, perfectly fine. Colby followed, still petrified.

" _Well Colby",_ I told him, _"you sure are special. Sarah's guardian angel let you see her. She hasn't let anyone else do that. She must think you are one special little boy."_

Colby just beamed, and told everyone how he alone was special enough to see an angel. I just marveled, once again, at the miraculous things God continued to send into my life during these long months while JJ was gone – just to say, _'Hang in there, JJ may not be here, but I Am.'_

And, of course, I can't forget the biggest miracle of all that He gave me – the blessing of my children each and every day. Their presence in my life may have brought a lot of work and stress on occasion – but it was nothing compared to the laughter, joy and companionship they gave me during these times (and now!). I just have to stop complaining long enough to see that; which is easier said than done for 'voice of doom' me.

Chapter 11

" _Before they call I will answer; while they are yet speaking I will hear."  
Isaiah 65:24_

Well time went on and Christmas was coming. Before JJ had left, we had agreed that if it were at all possible, he would try to get leave to come home for Christmas; no matter the cost. Back then when the guys left on the ship, that was the last communication you had except through letters. Hard to believe, but there were no phones on the ship. This of course was before the ubiquitous cellphone – which makes people far away from you closer than ever; and people close to you a million miles away – as you pour all your attention onto a tiny electronic screen, and ignore everyone around you. Sigh.

But I digress.

I waited patiently for a letter from JJ saying that he had gotten leave; but it didn't come. No leave available was what he kept writing. And then one morning right before Christmas I was on the phone trying to get a doctor appointment for Sarah on the Navy Base. Yup, another middle of the night ear infection.

This is the way Navy medicine worked. All care was obtained in the clinic. The clinic phones opened up for calls at 7:00 am. If you didn't get through and make an appointment within the first 10 minutes, your child waited until the next day to see the doctor- if you could get through then. None of us could afford medical care off base, and so we would start calling the phone number at 6:55 and then keep hitting the redial and praying you got through. Now keep in mind that hundreds of other frantic Navy moms with sick kids were doing the exact same thing.

Stress was high.

This was how we got care for our sick kids in the Navy (gotta love that socialized medicine – but don't get me started on that! Yet another aspect of 'socialized' medicine was its non-availability. If there was a drug out there that could help you – but the Navy didn't carry it – you were never told it existed. It wasn't until we were out of the Navy that my civilian doctor prescribed a painkiller for Sarah's ears, just in case she woke up at night and I couldn't get her to the doctor immediately. All those years of that child suffering – and I was never told a simple eardrop could take away the pain... because the Navy didn't carry it. Now with our new 'national health care' – these memories give me pause...).

But anyway, back in Florida it was 7:00 am and I was already on my 20th redial. I got a busy signal, hung up and instantly went to hit the redial button again when a thought screamed out at me _"IF I DON'T HANG UP THIS PHONE RIGHT THIS SECOND, JJ WILL NEVER GET THROUGH!!"_

I instantly hung up the phone and even before I released the button I thought, _"why in the world am I thinking this? JJ is on the other side of the world on the ship, He has no way to call me!"_

In the next instant as I stood there like an idiot staring at the phone, it rang. I jumped.

I pushed the 'on' button and heard JJ's voice _"Genovi? I'm in Italy. Someone came into theReady Room and said that there was a cod (mail plane) leaving the ship and the skipper said that he'd let one guy go if they wanted to go home for Christmas. I grabbed my wallet, jumped on the plane and now I'm somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There's a train leaving the town in about 2 minutes. I'll be on it all day long to get to the airport in Nice, France. Now this is very important, you have got to pay for a plane ticket now and have it waiting for me at the airport for the minute I get there. If it all works together, I can make it home by Christmas Eve!"_

And it did. And he was.

But only for a couple of days, and then JJ was back saying goodbye to crying children. And so we trudged into January, but boy those 2 days were so worth it – regardless of our now empty savings account.

We plunged into the New Year. At the beginning of the school semester, I signed Colby up for an after school tee-ball team, coached by his kindergarten teacher, who was a young male. I thought it might help the little guy since he was taking his dad's absence worst of all. No matter what I tried, he seemed to be disintegrating before my very eyes. I wracked my brain, not knowing what to do. I tried to do all the things JJ had done with him; to no avail. It just wasn't the same. JJ has XY chromosomes and I have XX. Colby has XY chromosomes; not XX.

Just plain and simply – not the same.

So I was thrilled when Colby seemed to enjoy the extra time with Mr. Smith and the other tee-ball playing boys. With the male interaction, he began to improve.

Which will also get me started on the currently popular idea that little boys don't need fathers around to grow up into healthy men in body, mind and spirit; or that little girls likewise don't need mothers. In fact, our Supreme Court just 'legislated' those rights of children away. Something about adults needing to be 'loved'; in whatever way, shape or form they wish.

Sure wish someone would love _the children_ that much...

But I digress. Back in the early 1990's in Florida, Sarah became ill. Around the beginning of February, she started with vomiting and diarrhea. She went from a tiny little thing to an even tinier little thing – constant trips to the doctor – and still no change. The talk began of hospitalization if she did not improve. She was becoming dangerously thin and dehydrated. But just as suddenly, she got better.

Mary, and JJ's sister Debby, came to visit with Debby's two boys. We went, again, to my most dreaded spot on earth.

Disneyland – land of lost children; and me.

All the cousins were in love with Mickey Mouse, and so their families would descend on us in Florida when Bob would leave, so that we could all drive down and experience it. Now don't get me wrong, I loved the company while JJ was gone – I just didn't love Mickey Mouse.

And for good reason.

Every time we went to Disney World, I would pile all the kids in the station wagon and drive 2+ hours to the land of stressed out parents and hyped up children. I would inevitably be by myself, desperately trying to keep all my children together, and dealing with my tired and crabby crew – so that all the cousins could 'do' Disney.

But Disney was 'doing' me in.

Nonetheless, after they arrived, we left Jacksonville for the drive south. I traveled in my car with my four children while Mary drove with Debby and her two. Debby, whose husband had never spent a single night away from home – simply could not handle _"all those children!"_ (Two; as in 2) for _"that long drive!"_ (Two hours; as in 2 hours.)

Debby in fact is an excellent example of not seeing beyond one's own nose – something I am guilty of, oh... say... all the time. It was perhaps day 4 of our eternal visit to Disneyland, and of course what could be more fun than 'Breakfast with the Characters'?! (Well; a cup of tea, quiet and a good book – but what do I know?)

Anyway, by the end of our wonderful breakfast experience with awkward characters and hyperventilating children, Debby's two kids were about as crabby as my four. Except that she didn't really ever have to do any of this on her own. My poor mother-in-law was the constant target of Debby's impatience since Mary was _'just not helping enough_ '!

Anyway, our ordeal, I mean 'wonderful breakfast experience', was finally done and Debby and I were in the bathroom with the kids getting all the 'potty-breaks' over with. Mary had taken one of Debby's kids outside already, but the one remaining began whining, and so Debby just lost it and started yelling at him. At that, hoping to calm things down, I spoke up and said, _"You know, I think that everybody is just a little tired. He may just be reacting to all the over-excitement."_

Well, in the words of every mother out there – THAT DID IT!

Debby turned on me and started yelling. _"GENOVI! You have NO IDEA how DIFFICULT it is to be ON YOUR OWN with TWO children WITHOUT a husband to HELP YOU for TWO WHOLE WEEKS!!!!"_

I waited for the echoes to stop reverberating off the toilet stalls, and then quietly replied, _"Well, Debby, actually.... I do."_

At this point, JJ had been gone for close to 5 months – through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, Winter Break, Valentine's Day, our birthdays, my drive from Florida to Connecticut (alone with 4 kids _and_ the dog!) and back again – and pretty much everything else that happens in a house with 4 small children.

It took a few seconds for Debby to realize who she was actually speaking to, and what idiot thing she had actually said – before she grabbed her son and stormed out of the room.

Shaking my head, I just reflected on how much _I LOVE DISNEYLAND!_ It wasn't till later that I was able to reflect also on how easy it is to focus so much on myself and my problems – that I begin to lose sight of another's...

In fact, this may be a reflection I need to think on till the day I die!

But back to the start of our Disney trip. We had traveled less than 15 miles from our home, when we began to enter onto the bridge over the St. John's River. The long bridge arches up in the middle. I later discovered that Mary and Debby had just completed their prayers for all of our safety during our trip. I was driving directly behind a truck cab that was traveling without a trailer attached. The highway was packed. We had just reached the top of the arch when suddenly; out of the blue, the truck cab began swerving. Instantly it was in a spin and had turned around!

Before I knew what was happening, the cab was sliding toward the edge of the bridge, quickly, with enough force to flip it right over. Time stood still as I stared into the horrified face of this driver and he stared back into mine. Instinctively I called out, _"OH GOD SAVE HIM!!!!!"_

In that instant, his truck stopped sliding toward the edge of the bridge abruptly, and suddenly began moving in the complete opposite direction. Slowly he came to a stop in the middle of the bridge. I then realized that I, Debby, and all the other cars around me had come to an immediate stop – without ever being thrown against our seat belts. It was really weird. Not a single car had rear-ended the one in front. We all sat there, staring at the driver, and he, in turn, stared at us. He blinked for an instant, shook his head and then suddenly, self consciously, sprang to action and began turning the truck around. We also all shook our heads and thumped our chests to see if our hearts were still beating – and then continued on our way.

I wondered – how does one explain something that goes against the laws of nature? I guess simply if that something is wrought by the hand of Nature's God.

Chapter 12

" _Hear my cry, O God; Give heed to my prayer."  
Psalms 61:1_

A few days later; Mary, Debby and her children headed back north to their homes. We continued the routine. It was broken only by more disaster. Jessica's PE coach insisted she jump a certain distance in gym a few days later. Once again I was hospital bound – a broken foot, crutches and sore armpits to rub each night.

A week or so later Jessica had to stay after school for something. I had to pick her up at 3:30 and then go back and get Colby from tee-ball at 4:30. School was out at 2:30, so both Jessica and Colby stayed for their after school activities. At 3:15 Sarah was still sound asleep in her crib and so I called Joe, the teenager across the street, to come and sit with her, and keep an eye also on Rachel while I ran to get Jessica. As I drove up to the front of the school, I passed Mr. Smith out in the field playing tee-ball with the boys. Odd.....I didn't notice Colby as I drove by.

I picked up Jessica and again, as I drove back by, I realized that I didn't see Colby anywhere in the field with the tee-ball team. Was he in the office sick or something? Wanting to find out, I turned around and pulled up to the field. Strolling out to the pitcher's mound, where Mr. Smith was lobbing balls to the batters, I asked where Colby was. _"Oh,"_ Mr. Smith responded, _"isn't he with you?"_

My heart stopped _. "What?"_ I asked, _"He stayed after for tee-ball."_

" _Oh yeah,_ " Mr. Smith said, _"but I sent him out about a half hour before the game to set up the equipment and when I got here the equipment was here but Colby was gone. I figured he walked home."_

At that my stomach began hurting. _"Mr. Smith,_ " I replied as calmly as I could, _"you put Colby, a kindergartner, on the bus each day for his over-5-mile trip home, what would make you think that he could 'walk' there?!"_

He had no answer, and suggested I check with the front office as he continued to calmly pitch balls. _"Stay here!"_ I called to Jessica in the car and took off _running_ for the office.

No Colby in the office; no one had seen him. I began running from classroom to classroom, calling for Colby; I ran outside and began running all over the school grounds calling for Colby. Finally I attracted the attention of Jessica's teacher, a mother about my age who knew me and asked what was going on. I told her what I knew and she went pale. She grabbed another teacher and now everyone was running around calling for Colby. Jessica had found a couple of her friends and they stood about in a corner, crying.

After about 30 minutes it became evident that Colby was nowhere to be found on the school grounds. At that I said, _"I'm calling the police."_

I dialed 911 and told them my son was missing. They asked, _"What was he wearing?"_

Ever try to remember what your child is dressed in when:

a) You dress 4 children each day and

b) Your brain is reeling with panic?

They told me that the police were on their way. Suddenly I remembered poor Joe – still sitting at home with the girls, waiting for me to return. I realized that he would have no clue what to do with the baby when she woke up and so I decided to call my friend Susie, Colby's best friend's mom, and ask her to go wait at the house for me. She answered the phone and I opened my mouth to talk.

And that's when I started to cry.

Mortified, Jessica later asked me, _"Mom do you know that you were crying in the PRINCIPAL's office?!!"_

" _Jessica,_ " I said, _"If his child was missing, he'd be crying too._ "

Nonetheless, when I tried to speak with Susie, all I could get out was that it was Genovi calling. I was trying not to cry so hard that I couldn't talk. Susie's voice continued to rise as she kept trying to find out what was wrong. It wasn't until later that she let me know the scare I gave her. Here, I call her crying and unable to speak, and all she knows is that JJ is away on the carrier. In our Navy community, it was not uncommon for a husband to be killed in a crash during a deployment; (we lost 7 pilots during one summer alone) so she thought I had just received the news that JJ was dead. Needless to say, she was just as alarmed to discover that Colby was missing. She pledged to run to the house and watch the baby and made me promise to call her as soon as I knew something.

I went outside and waited, alone, for the police. This big old guy shows up. He had a big police car, with big sirens, big lights and a big hat. I instantly felt better – until he started asking questions.

" _Weeeeeell, little lady, maybe your husband picked him up,"_ he said after I relayed my tale.

It was a slap in the face. My voice cracked as I told him my husband was away on deployment, and did he _really_ think this would even BE happening if my HUSBAND was at home?! NOTHING ever goes wrong when they are HOME!

" _Weeeeell then, I'll have to radio it in, what was he wearing?"_

And then it hit me. Big car, big hat, big siren and all – this guy could do NOTHING to find my son. My God, I thought, Colby has been missing for almost 2 hours – an abuser will have him out of the state by now.

A deep suffocating fear began to envelope me. It worsened when I realized that I would have to send a telegram to JJ and tell him that his only son was gone, and on my watch. I realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to find my child. I stood there waiting for this big guy to wave a magic wand and tell me to wake up. But it was not a nightmare; it was real. The world closed in around me. And then.

" _Genovi!!!"_

Out ran the school secretary with the news that Susie had called her husband Mark and told him to go up to the school to be with me, so I would not be all alone. He got around the first bend of our road and there, trudging along, hot and dusty, was little 6-year-old Colby. Mark calmly pulled over and asked if he needed a ride home _._

" _Nope,"_ Colby responded.

" _GET IN THE CAR!"_ Mark answered.

They had him at home, Susie said. He was safe. He was alive. He had felt sick and started to walk for home. It is a miracle he made it; he was lost up on the highway, lost again up near the shopping mall. It is amazing he kept trudging along and finally made it home. Later, people told me that they had seen little Colby walking along the side of the road far from home that day, and had wondered why. They had _felt the urge_ to pull over and ask him if he was okay – but figured he was fine...

(Make another note to self: _ALWAYS_ follow those urges. That is the Holy Spirit speaking to you!)

For three days afterwards, I couldn't speak above a whisper, if I spoke at all. The next day when I found the clothes Colby had been wearing in a heap on his floor waiting to be washed, I picked them up, clutched them to me and just sat on the floor and began sobbing. I kept seeing in my mind some cop handing them to me covered in blood. It was that close. The fear was that great. It paralyzed me. I kept the kids inside, fearful to let them out of my sight. Finally I realized that I was going to lose my mind if I didn't do something. I called Western Union and sent a telegram to the ship, asking for LCdr. JJ James to call home.

Now you don't send telegrams to the ship. You are instructed to NEVER give your husband bad news. If you did, then he would crash his plane into the back of the aircraft carrier due to the stress of it all and his death would _be your fault_. Navy people actually told us these things. We believed them. So it had to be pretty bad to send a telegram to the ship. But I didn't know what else to do.

Two days later, JJ called. He was in the main room where the Captain steers the ship. He was on the ship's radio, where every time you finish speaking, you have to say 'over' so that the person on the other end can respond. His voice was faint, and worried. _"Genovi, what is wrong, over."_

I was in the middle of folding clothes. I sat down and began to cry. _"JJ, I just have to tell you that I can not guarantee that any of your children will still be alive when you come back. We almost lost Colby the other day. I had no control. There is nothing I can do to protect them, over."_

The next words changed my life.

" _Genovi, I know that you can not keep these children alive_ , _that is not your job. That is God's job. You just have to do the best that you can, over."_

And from that day on, I did. I realized that I am NOT the one in control and that 'being in control' is NOT my job. This was a lesson that I may have never gotten had it not come in this painful package. For the longest time afterward, I would tell people, "Hey, if you can't put your child on the school bus in the morning and count on the fact that he will come home at night – what CAN you count on?"

The answer is – nothing. We control absolutely.... _NOTHING_.

If God wants my children to go back home, He will send for them. If he wants JJ or me, He will send for us. And there will always be a reason. And the reason will not be mine. I just had to place them in His hands, and trust His reasons. For they are always better than mine.

But something happened during this time that was important later. When I called home to tell them about what had happened, (looking for some sympathy, I'm sure), I got (what I thought at the time was) no help from Mary.

" _Genovi,"_ she admonished, _"God knew where Colby was the entire time. When you were crying (in the principal's office(!) as Jessica would say), you were doing absolutely nothing to help your son. You should have been praying for him!"_

Well, (I thought) that was a LOT of help, as I hung up. It proved to be life saving later, as you'll see.

Chapter 13

" _As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you..."  
Isaiah 66:13_

Slowly, we recovered. But not for too long because within a couple weeks, Sarah, 16 months old, started getting sick again. This time she wouldn't eat and had a fever. I kept calling the doctor; they kept prescribing antibiotics and cool baths. As the days went on she became less and less active. She adored the Lion King movie, and so I actually took the TV out of the closet where it stayed while JJ was gone. (The TV in the closet made my life easier. Instead of the kids pestering to watch something, they just woke up each morning and used their imaginations all day to play. They learned to keep themselves occupied for hours doing just that! So much for TV being a good 'babysitter' – it defeats the purpose totally ( _while_ pouring garbage into your child's mind).)

But nonetheless, there was not much Sarah could do but lie there in misery, and so the Lion King was running almost constantly on the TV for her. She laid on the sofa or in my bed for hours and hours, watching the Lion King. I knew every word in the movie. Daily doctor calls and checks, yet the word was that she had a virus, just wait it out. Then one day as I checked on her I noticed her little chest moving up and down at an incredible speed. I leaned over her and gasped.

She was awake, but was turning a scarlet purple from her chest up. The color had reached her chin and mouth. She was lethargic. I picked her up and she was like a burning limp noodle. I rushed her into her room, took her temperature and blinked my eyes. The mercury was to the very end of the thermometer. The last number on the thermometer was 108 degrees. I started screaming for one of the kids to start the shower while I pulled her diaper off her. I jumped with her into the tub, trying to cool her down; she whimpered, too weak to cry. I frantically was trying to get her temperature down while yelling the doctor's phone number to Jessica to call him. Jessica, all of 10 years old, was yelling at the doctor's staff that this was an emergency, as they tried to blow her off. At that moment one of Colby's friends and his parents walked in the house to get Colby for a sleep over. It was total chaos. They grabbed the kids, I grabbed the baby and rushed her to the hospital (ambulances were never an option, as I knew that the Navy wouldn't pay for them, and we couldn't afford them. I had discovered that fact earlier, when Colby was 2 and almost died, but that is another story.)

At the hospital, they ran every test. After several hours the doctor came in and showed me x-rays. With a pointer he showed me her lungs; they were either collapsing or filling with fluid (?!). He pointed to her liver; it was 3 times the normal size. Her white blood count was off the charts. And still they had no idea what was going on with her. It was either a very bad viral infection (one was going around that had filled up the hospital beds) or she was a very, very sick child with, what he insinuated to be, a deadly disease. I asked whether he meant leukemia or something like that. He just looked at me, and did not respond.

He told me that they could admit her, but she would probably do better in her own bed; so to take her home and make her comfortable. I was to bring her back in the morning so that they could see if she was improving or not. At that time they would make decisions. Then as he got up he looked at me and asked where my husband was.

" _On the carrier, the ship is in Port Call in Spain, I think."_

" _If I were you,"_ he responded, _"I would get him home; and soon."_

Just down the street from the Navy hospital was the chapel. It had a beautiful statute of Mary in front. I had often stopped there and spoken to the real Mary that I knew was listening. I drove there now, got down on my knees and begged her to save my baby. Strangers stared at me; I didn't care. I drove home. The house was empty. When I called our friends and explained that I had to return with Sarah at 6am the next morning, they said the children would stay with them.

I got Sarah settled back into my bed where she weakly and happily began watching the Lion King again. I got the phone and started calling. There was a Wives' Club meeting that night. I called the Skipper's wife and asked her to start the call-tree and tell every Navy wife that if her husband called home she had to tell him to find JJ James and have JJ call home. There was no other way I could ever locate him. He was on port call in Spain for gosh sakes; he could be anywhere.

I began calling family and friends and telling them that Sarah was gravely ill; I needed prayers for her. JJ's 90+ year-old grandmother got into her car, drove to her parish rectory and banged on the door until the priest got up. She then made him open the church and go in and pray! Family and friends all over the country stopped what they were doing and began praying.

When my calls were done, I got my book of Psalms and sat with Sarah praying the Psalms. I silently told the Lord that I knew Sarah was sent for a special reason and that she had changed a lot in our home, but I really did not want him to take her back now. I loved her too much to be able to give her back to him. I cried and asked over and over for him to let us keep her. Close to exhaustion, I began getting ready for bed. Suddenly, Sarah sat up in bed, swung her little legs over the side and jumped down off onto the floor. She started walking around and, looking up at my shocked face, said "Hungy, Mommy". She was hungry! She was walking! I ran up to her and felt her face – cool. The fever was gone. It was a miracle. I had no idea what to make of it, but began thanking God over and over again.

The next morning when I brought Sarah in the doctor examined her. Shaking his head in disbelief he asked if this was the same child. There was no medical explanation; the new tests showed that she was simply 100% fine and back to normal. I left the hospital with Sarah. We went to the florist and bought flowers and returned and laid them at Mary's feet. _How could I ever thank this Mother who had given up her son for me – and now interceded so that I would not have to go through her same pain?_

It is incomprehensible to me, but then again, the ways of God often are. On the way back, I picked up the kids and got everyone home and settled down again. The phone rang; it was JJ, calling from Spain. _"Hey, are you looking for me?"............_

Within 6 weeks he was back home and (not so) strangely, all the illnesses vanished. I slept through the night for the first time in 6 months. It was wonderful. We made it, through the grace of God.

Chapter 14

" _And the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."  
Philippians 4:7_

And then the good news: JJ applied for, and received, an early retirement from the Navy. We had already been through 4 or 5 six-month deployments, not to mention the many additional months JJ spent away from home each year getting _ready_ to leave on deployment. And that last deployment had almost done us all in.

One day I simply told JJ that, every time he opened a letter that said _"We are safe now, but...."_ , he had to remember that I was the one living the sheer hell between the _'but'_ and the _'we are safe now'_. I just didn't think I could keep doing it.

It was not a comment made easily. JJ was a phenomenal Navy pilot and Test Pilot; beloved by all his men. The largest fighter jet manufacturer had just designed a new FA-18 airplane and had informed the Navy that they only had one condition – find LCdr. JJ James and put him in charge of testing it. For JJ had been the Test Pilot who had developed their Missile System for the Iraq War – completing an average 3 year task in 6 months at a savings of millions of dollars (according to the Corporate VP who snagged me at the unveiling ceremony). One Admiral had once commented that, among his peers, word was that JJ James was a "future CNO". Nonetheless, when JJ looked at the toll that his spectacular career was taking on his family, he decided to leave it all behind – for us.

And as we have all seen by now – there is nothing like a huge sacrifice to drop a NBOB (Nuclear Bomb Of Blessing) into one's life...

And so the Navy was out, but what would we do next? JJ worried about feeding and housing his family of six, but I felt that God had a plan for us, and we just had to wait and see what it was. During the next few months JJ and I saw miracle after miracle as amazing 'coincidence' after amazing 'coincidence' occurred. But that's JJ's story. Next thing we knew, he had a job at a major US Airline. So excited, we were amazed at how absolutely everything fell into place to enable this to happen. But we still had to sell the house, so the trials in Florida were not yet at an end. JJ soon left us for training across the country, so I guess I should have been expecting another disaster.

And so one morning, almost a year to the day from when the school lost Colby, I was cleaning the bathrooms when a ring came at the front door. I opened the door, yellow gloved and all, and found the Principal standing on my front stoop. _"Hello, Mrs. James,"_ he said nervously, _"Um, is Rachel home by any chance?"_

I stared at him. _"Mr. Dibbs,"_ I replied, _"I put Rachel, a kindergartner, on the bus today to go to school. Please don't tell me that you do not have her."_

" _Now_ _don't panic_ _,"_ he said, _"they've already organized a search party and I'm sure they'll find her soon.... Do you think you could come up to the school, Mrs. James? And do you have any recent pictures of her, the Police are asking for one."_

Once again, my stomach started hurting. Telling him I would be right there, I walked to the phone and picked it up – for you see, I remembered what Mary had told me the year before about Colby – _"Genovi, God knew where Colby was, you should have been praying for him."_

I began calling all the praying people I knew and told them that Rachel was missing – and to please, please PRAY. I then went up to the school.

Once there I found a crazy scene. It was field day and all the children were running about in the fields around the school. I had been told that Rachel was missing, but you see, but I was NOT told for how long. But when she showed up outside her kindergarten class that morning, another little girl named Jenny was there with a big, out of control dog that had followed her to school. The teacher pointed at Jenny and Rachel and told the two little girls to _"catch that dog and take it to the office."_

Backpacks still on their backs, they did what the grownup had ordered them to do and for the next several hours, and several miles through the swamps (with the alligators), they tried to 'catch that dog'. So they had been missing since before school. It was now noon, the search party had gone out and no little girls had been found. The whole school was aware. There were little crowds of teachers and parents, at this point, standing in circles and praying for my child and her friend...

I showed up to school, oblivious.

Right when I got there, I saw Jessica out in the field with her class playing kickball. I ran up to her and asked if she had seen Rachel, because Rachel was missing. Jessica's teacher suddenly turned and exclaimed, _"Oh my God Genovi!!! Is that YOUR child?!"_

And with that, she burst out crying. I told her, while backing away – _"just pray."_

I ran into another good friend, helping out at field day. Her daughter played with Rachel, so I asked if she had seen her. She too let out a scream of fear. However, knowing she was a big pray-er, I asked her to pray. She immediately began shouting out to God for protection for my child.

My best friend Charlotte and her parents, who were visiting, rushed up to the school as soon as they heard. That was the one time I almost started to cry (in the principal's office(!)). I looked at their grim faces and asked, _"Charlotte, do you think I should try to call JJ?"_

As though she knew what I needed to hear, Charlotte responded, _"No Genovi, let's wait, I'm sure they'll find her any minute."_

At that the Principal and the police tried once again to get me to sit in the room they had cleared out for Jenny's parents and me. I looked in and saw Jenny's parents holding onto each other and crying, totally helpless. _"No thanks,"_ I said _, "if my child is lost in the swamp, then it's the swamp I'm going to."_

With that I ran out to the woods, which led to the swamps that surrounded the school. I had no idea that they had already been searched and found empty.

At this point, having seen the reaction of all the others to the situation and realizing that it was worst than even _I_ (the voice of _doom_ ) had imagined, I could feel the fear beginning to wrap around my mind. It fueled my efforts, and I frantically ran on and on, calling for Rachel. I came to streams and culverts, each time looking and imagining that I would see her body in one of them. I began to cry, calling for my baby and calling out to God to save her. Over and over I kept envisioning my precious child in the back of some van somewhere, being taken away to be abused. Those were the stories we heard all the time in the news – terrified, I began to realize that it might be my child's story this time...

I reasoned with God over and over, told him I'd do anything He wanted, just save my child. I told him to take me, do anything He wanted to me, just save my child. I begged him to let me keep her; I loved her too much to let her go. I kept seeing her sweet little face in my mind.

Having given in to fear, it only worsened. It became so overwhelming; I began sweating and shaking. It was like a black cloud descending around me. I could barely breathe, my chest felt so constricted with sheer terror. Not knowing how to deal with such panic, I ran faster and faster. And still I kept seeing her little face, and I imagined the terror on it if someone had her, the pain she would go through if they abused her, if they tortured her. And I knew I could do nothing to stop it – that if someone evil had her, she would suffer so.

And then I stopped.

I just stopped. I looked up to the heavens and my heart completely and totally broke in a million pieces at what I knew I had to do. I said out loud, _"God, you know how much I cherish my child, just as You cherish yours. God, I pray and I beg that you keep her safe and that you return her to me."_

I took a deep breath, because this was the hardest thing I had ever done, and I began to sob. _"But Lord,"_ I continued, _"if someone has her... if someone is hurting her... if someone is torturing her and terrifying her – then I ask You to take her to heaven right now. Don't let her suffer pain like that, don't let her go through it! Oh Lord!"_ I continued, _"I would rather live with the agony of going through the rest of my life without her, knowing that she is safe and happy with You, then I would want to keep her and have her go through that horror. If the only way You can keep that evil from her is to take her now – then just do so."_

Totally drained, I sat down, hard, because I knew I had just given my child away and I believed in my heart that God would honor my prayer if she faced such evil. But I just knew that I could not bear the thought of her being tortured, of her being in agony and terror. I couldn't selfishly want her to go through that, just so that I could keep her.

And suddenly the most incredible thing happened. Like a rainfall from heaven, I felt Peace falling down onto me. My heart suddenly began to fill with the most incredible peace I had, and to this day have, ever felt. And I realized what St. Paul meant when he said that faith in the Lord gives you _"a peace that passes all understanding"_ – for there was absolutely no understanding how, in that most horrible moment of my life, I could feel such peace.

I sat there, blinking my eyes and shaking my head – when I heard, in the distance, someone calling my name. I got up and traveled toward it. It was Charlotte, running hard, looking for me. _"Genovi!!! They found her!!!!"_ she was yelling over and over, _"THEY FOUND HER!!!"_

Amazed, I looked up at heaven and then began to cry again – but this time over the incredible mercies of our God.

It was only when I finally saw my Rachel again that I realized how important it was that Mary had said those words to me the year before. Rachel and Jenny had followed that dog miles away to the very edge of the big swamps – where the houses stopped and the wilderness began in earnest. It was there that a young woman, out hanging her midday laundry, saw them. Something did not seem right to her; it was lunchtime, it was a school day and here were these two little girls hot and dusty; trudging through the woods at the border of her yard with their backpacks still on their backs. She lived in the last house before the big wilderness started, and watched as these little girls began to trudge into it. Calling out, she stopped them and asked if they needed help. Ever instructed to be wary of strangers, Rachel responded, _"No, we're fine."_

Jenny chimed in, _"Yeah, we're fine,"_ and then blurted out, _"but we're REAL LOST!!"_

The woman called the police who yelled through the phone at her, _"GRAB THOSE KIDS AND DON'T LET THEM OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!!"_

They told her that they already had a helicopter launched trying to find them, complete with a body-heat seeking device to try to find them in the swamps. They were beginning to lose hope.

There was great cheering at the school when the police car drove up and unloaded these two little girls; hot, sweaty and covered with mud and cuts. While driving home Rachel told me all about their long journey, and I discovered why Colby had been lost the year before – so that I would learn to pray this time. For during their travels they had come upon the roving dog packs that ran wild through the swamps – often killing other animals and even attacking small children. And then Rachel said, _"You know Mommy, it was really weird! We kept getting surrounded by thousands of mean dogs!! We were SO scared. These mean dogs would get all around us in a circle and get closer and closer growling and snapping at us – but they never touched us. They would get real close, but then turn and attack and bite each other, and we would run away..."_

It was then that I realized that the prayers that were being sent up for her had formed a hedge of protection around them, a hedge that was impenetrable. Bruised, shaken, tired, thirsty and hungry – my child came home... alive.

And to God be the Glory.

Chapter 15

" _He who believes in the Son HAS eternal life..."  
John 3:36_

I began telling JJ that all I wanted was to get out of the state of Florida with my four children _still alive_ , and our prayers to sell the home ASAP intensified. Right after school was over, we got a buyer!! Thank God! Our joy was tempered only by my disappointment at JJ getting assigned, at the end of his training, to Chicago. I had had my heart set on finally being able – after 20 years – to move closer to family. In an instant, my dreams were gone.

Well, actually, we could still live in Connecticut, but JJ would have to commute – and we both knew how hard that would be on him and our family. Once again I turned to the Lord and said, _"I know You work through the head of the home Lord, I will step out in faith and follow JJ. You know my heartbreak, but I will trust in You."_

We moved to Chicago.

But I would be remiss if I neglected to tell yet another amazing story that our family was part of in Florida right before our move. It is one that has held me up whenever I have heard of a sad or tragic death of someone. I tell this story in "Prodigal's Steps"; but since it occurred in Florida during this time – I will tell it again here.

At the time this happened, Jessica was about 10 years old, Colby was about 6, Rachel was about 4 and Sarah was about 1. We had neighbors who lived across the street by the name of Laura and Joe Carlson. They had a daughter Emily, who played with Jessica, and so we knew them fairly well. Laura's parents were both retired and lived in the same town. Their grandchildren called them 'Oma' and 'Opa'. Laura's mother was born in Poland, and married Laura's dad when he was a young soldier in WW2.

Oma was the oldest of about 13 children and probably around 16 or so years old when Hitler's bombs fell on her city. In the resulting panic and confusion, the entire family was split up. Oma spent the rest of the war going from refugee camp to refugee camp looking for her siblings. Although her father was killed in the war, by the end of it she had found every other family member – including her mother and the baby – and she managed to keep them all together. She met Opa after the war, married and came to the US. Laura was their only child.

A few years before I met Laura, Oma had come down with breast cancer. She was close to death when her siblings in Poland pleaded with her to come back and visit them. Laura and she went to the doctor for permission for Oma to travel. The doctor refused to give his consent since the cancer had spread throughout her entire body; but nonetheless, Oma was determined to go. The doctor told Laura that if she let her mother go, then she'd better be prepared for her to return home – in a wooden box.

Oma landed in Europe, and her siblings immediately bundled her up and took her to the miraculous waters of Lourdes, France. Oma continued to spend the next few months there – visiting with all of her many family members. At the end of her visits, she flew back home. Once home, she and Laura made the trek back to the doctor. He was obviously surprised to see her; and sent her for testing. Laura told me later that she would never forget his face when he came in with the test results. He was white as a ghost she said, as he laid the results out in front of them. There was absolutely no sign of cancer anywhere in Oma's body.

It had plain and simply disappeared. A miracle.

Well, a few years went by and now we were part of their lives. Oma and Opa loved being grandparents, and doted on their two grandchildren. Unfortunately, they had very little in the way of material things to give them, as they existed pretty much on social security. But love more than made up for material lack.

Laura's husband Joe had an interesting business. He and his father owned a large car dealership and also engaged in offshore shipping. J.J. and I were just a young Navy couple – and had no idea what 'offshore shipping' was – but hey, how would we?! Overnight, we would see expensive foreign cars and huge yachts on trailers appear, and within a couple days they would be gone again – just another day in the neighborhood. Laura had never worked outside the home, and had never gone to college. She was just a regular wife and mother raising her children and caring for her family.

Until the day of the accident.

On that day, Laura was driving her husband's dealership car when another driver hit her and totaled it. Laura actually had to be cut out of the car to be rescued. Miraculously, she was not badly injured. The rescue squad took her to the hospital, and laid her on a gurney outside the emergency examining room.

It was there that she was arrested.

In the course of about 5 minutes, she discovered that her entire married life was a lie. For you see, the very fancy dealership car – from her husband's business – that she had been driving, turned out to be stolen. Her husband's 'offshore shipping' business was offshore all right. It was 'offshore' where stolen luxury vehicles were taken outside to international waterways, stripped and disguised – and sent back in as 'foreign imports' for sale in her husband and father-in-law's dealership.

Pretty much the bottom fell out of everything after that. Laura's husband, and his father, went on the lam, and she filed for divorce. It was then that she discovered that absolutely everything she owned – house, cars, possessions – were in her husband and father-in-law's names. Shortly thereafter, Joe filed the legal paperwork necessary – and had his wife and children thrown out of their home and into the street.

I remember the day we helped her and the kids get their own personal items – clothing, etc. – out of the house before the sheriff came to lock the door. We were all racing in and out of the house trying to extricate as much stuff as humanly possible. I had Sarah in a backpack, and was grabbing everything I could. Oma and Opa were there too – with ashen faces. They were trying to help their daughter and grandchildren retain as much of their things as they were able. What they must have thought of their son-in-law, I can only imagine. They never said a word.

Suddenly, as I passed Oma with another armful of stuff, I saw her put her load down and sink into a chair.

" _I don't feel well,"_ she said.

Something about the way she said it gave me a dreadful feeling. Sure enough, once she went back to the doctor, we heard the grim prognosis. The cancer was back, and it was everywhere.

So began the slow and sad deterioration of Oma. Throughout the months that followed, everyone was grief-stricken. Everyone, that is, but Oma.

Yes, she was heart broken that she would not see her grandchildren grow up; but she continued to tell everyone over and over:

" _God is taking me home for a reason. We have no money to help Laura and the children; there is nothing that we can do for them here. I know that God will use me to help them – and that is why He is bringing me home. It's the only thing that makes sense."_

Everyone was too grief stricken to respond. As the months went by, Opa and Oma helped Laura find a nice rental home for her family. They helped her look for, and get, a good secretarial job. They walked with her through the divorce process, helping her in every way they could. They just couldn't – as much as they wanted to – give her any financial support. They lived month to month on their social security. Residing in a tiny mobile home – they didn't even have space for their daughter and grandchildren to live with them.

As Oma sickened, her work on a quilt for Emily intensified. She was determined to give it to her as a lasting remembrance. She sewed many meaningful things into that quilt – things that she hoped would help Emily remember her. She finally finished the quilt and lovingly gave it to Emily. The next day, she took to bed – and within just a few days – was gone.

Laura afterwards told me of an amazing occurrence. As her mother slipped into a coma, she reverted back to speaking Polish. Neither Laura, nor her father, had any idea what she was saying. For a day or two, she kept gesturing and urgently speaking in Polish. They had no idea what she wanted. Suddenly, Oma's sister arrived to see her. She walked into the room; and froze. Oma was doing her gesturing and urgent speaking.

" _Heinz!"_ her sister whispered in awe, _"she's speaking to Heinz!"_

It turned out that their brother Heinz had died years ago, and Oma was talking to him. She kept asking him to come closer, so that she could hold his hand. Laura said it pretty much freaked _everybody_ out.

Oma passed away shortly before we moved out of Florida. It was a year or so later that I got an unexpected phone call from Laura in our new home. Now it was her turn to speak urgently.

" _Genovi!"_ she exclaimed, the minute I said hello, _"do you remember what my mother said? What she said about 'helping me out' when she gets to heaven?"_

I cautiously said yes; and then the story unfolded.

Apparently, Joe, her ex-husband, had finally gone off to jail a couple months prior. It had been in the news all over the state. On the other side of Florida was a married couple that had gone to school with Joe when they were younger. They had no children; both worked, and they were very well off financially. The husband showed the wife the story, and they both expressed surprise at what had become of their childhood classmate. Suddenly one of them noted that Joe had left a wife, and 2 young children, totally unsupported when he went to prison. They agreed that that was "so sad"; put the paper down and continued with their breakfast.

When they later called Laura, they explained that – since that first moment of reading about her ex-husband – neither of them had gotten _"a single minute's peace."_

They were both consumed with the thought that they _just had to_ help Laura and the children financially. After all, they had the money, and what else were they doing with it? They were awakened with the idea at night, bombarded with the idea in the morning, interrupted with the idea at work, fell asleep with the idea at night again. They simply, and plainly, could get no rest until they did something.

So they had set up a bank deposit for Laura and the kids; and called her to let her know how much money they had designated to put into it each month from then on out.

Laura was obviously speechless. But at least she was _not_ also clueless. She had inside knowledge of exactly what was going on. And 'what was going on' was this:

" _Gen, my mother is harassing the heck out of this poor couple – because that's apparently what she went to heaven for."_

Who knew? Besides Oma, that is...

And so now I realize that we will eventually _all_ know what Oma did – that our work here is not finished just because God brings us home to heaven. When you go to God in faith, like St. Thérèse of Lisieux, showed us, you can still be used on earth. For Jesus told us himself that: _"He who believes in the Son_ _has_ _eternal life..."_ John 3:36. Jesus does not say that one who believes WILL have it; but that he HAS it already. We are already living our eternity right now. Location doesn't really matter; once we were conceived our eternity began...

Just as I look back on these remembrances now, I will look back on all the ones still to come – from the other side of eternity one day. Will they be embarrassing memories – or good ones? Each day I make the choice.

Oma somehow knew that; and having witnessed her faith on earth – I now know it also. For the ties between heaven and earth are stronger than we know; the invisible cords are actually quite taut – and the joy – unspeakable...

Chapter 16

" _They do not know nor do they understand; they walk about in darkness"  
Psalm 82:5_

We spent the first few months in Chicago settling in. The airline's first year of pay qualified us for food stamps – had we had less pride, we would have taken them. Making ends meet was a challenge, especially since we moved to a land where I had to run out to the second hand store searching for coats, boots, hats, gloves and blankets – for 6 people. What was with this _cold_?! But it was amazing to live as a civilian. When my children were sick, I simply called the doctor's office _and made an appointment!_ Just like that. When I got to the doctor, they _treated us nicely!_ Just like that. No one told me that I should shut up and not complain about sitting for 6 hours in the waiting room with sick kids because I wasn't ' _paying'_ for this service anyway. (There's that great socialized medicine again!) It was amazing. Equally amazing were the things that civilians took for granted. And the things they complained about. Everything! To me I kept pinching myself that life was this good – and then I'd get around civilian moms and listen to them complain about how this (same) life was so awful. I bit my tongue so much it's a wonder it didn't fall off.

But I didn't care. JJ was around, the children were healthy and happy and I was breathing a sigh of relief. And then the strange things began happening again. It turns out that we had moved into a nest of spiritual activity. I should have known the first day when I was unpacking. I was so used to God's miracles that I was starting to realize that He sends them all the time if we just ask and pay attention! For instance, on that first day, I was driving down the road and could not find a Christian station anywhere on my radio. _"Well God,"_ I reasoned, _"You can just change the station and get me one!"_

But nothing happened. Darn.

About an hour later I was in the house, windows open, unpacking. Suddenly I heard a radio blaring Christian music. I ran out front and there, one house down was the UPS truck. I walked up to the guy and asked if that was a Christian station. _"Sure is,"_ he responded, _"do you want me to write them all down for you?"_

I smiled; something about _"my ways are not your ways..."_ came to mind...

But it shows how slowly it takes a stubborn, prideful person like me to begin to wake up to, and acknowledge the Power of, the Living God! After all I had been through – I still didn't get it. If my prayers were not answered – ASAP – then obviously, I reasoned, God wasn't there.

But perhaps I should go easier on myself. It took decades for cynical unbelief and distrust of God to become implanted in my mind – why would I think it would be rooted out any quicker? Especially if I was doing nothing to go back into my life and address the reasons why that cynicism grew so strong in the first place – i.e. the wounds they came in under... And also, how would I change if I was still immersed in, and listening to, the same culture that taught me that cynicism?

Nonetheless, it didn't take long for me to realize that other odd things were going on. The Catholic Church in town had begun a 24-hour Eucharistic adoration where you signed up for a one-hour commitment each week. I signed up for Friday mornings at 5:00 am – figuring that would be a time when I could count on an hour to myself! Well, people in the community reported that after beginning this adoration program some surprising things were starting to happen.

There was an elderly couple in town that had retired. After a while they got bored with retirement and decided to open a tiny little Catholic book and gift store. Suddenly strange things began happening in their store. Statutes were crying and people who had gone to see them were healed miraculously of cancer, and other equally amazing things. This little couple was beside themselves, not knowing what to do. They were just an elderly couple that wanted to do something so that their retirement would not be so boring. Well, relief from boredom was certainly what they got! Things were interesting, to say the least.

And then one day I had to take JJ's shirts to the cleaners. I drove up the hill, looked at the morning sky – and almost drove off the road. There, directly in front of me in the eastern sky, rising up from the horizon were three (count em, 3) suns. They formed a kind of semi-circle. The regular sun was in the middle with two smaller suns on either side as though on the sides of a rainbow. I was speechless. I sped into the parking lot, got out of the car and RAN into the cleaners. The girl there was talking on the phone. Gesturing wildly, I said, _"Come here, come here! Look out this window, what do you see?"_

Still talking, she calmly looked out the window and said, _"Hey, how funny, there are three suns in the sky."_

And she turned back, went behind the counter and kept talking on the phone. And that was that.

I kept pulling other people outside and asking them what they saw. To a person they would all look up, remark how odd that 3 suns were in the sky – and calmly go back to what they were doing. Just like that. I began to think that there was something wrong with ME, in that I thought this was a 'big deal'. I headed home and immediately turned on the TV, expecting a report. Nothing. Nothing on the radio either. I told the kids, they went outside, looked up and began to shake. It scared the heck out of them. They thought the world was ending or something.

Throughout the day it was the same story, everyone I pointed it to paid little, if any, attention to it. I finally realized that perhaps no one thought it a big deal because it happened out there a lot; maybe it was the northern lights or something. And all day these 2 extra suns tracked through the sky just like the regular sun, right alongside it.

Finally towards dinner I remembered the elderly couple in the Catholic bookstore. I called and spoke with the gentleman. I asked him if he had seen the sky that day; he said yes. I told him that I had not grown up there, and so I asked if it was the northern lights or something. He responded that he was 70+ years old, born and raised in that town and he had _never_ in his entire life seen anything like it before. He said that people had come to his shop in the morning and had been there praying all day – they had no idea what the meaning of it could be.

And so evening came and the 3 suns set in the west. And life just plain went on – nobody really noticed.

I thought afterward of Corrie Ten Boom. She was a Christian who had been sent to a Nazi concentration camp with her father and sister for sheltering Jews during WWII. Her book "The Hiding Place" is about her life. (Read it if you wonder if God is still working miracles in the world!) Anyway, she was the only one to survive the concentration camp, and when the war was over she began telling people of the incredible miracles that she had seen; before, during and after the war. Once the war ended, she began a ministry to German people and soldiers because the Lord had shown her that of all people they would need ministry the most – as they would be the most hated people on earth – and they needed forgiveness and compassion more than all others.

She wrote later of a speech she gave when she was much older and in a communist country. She was in a huge auditorium filled with hundreds of people. The authorities were trying to show the world that they allowed their people 'religious freedom' by letting her speak – but they had strictly forbidden her to speak about certain subjects – most notably Jesus and Satan. As she began speaking, she looked out and saw nothing but hundreds of eyes staring at her blankly. She spoke and spoke but there was little, if any, response. The people seemed like statutes.

Suddenly the idea came into her mind that Satan had a hold on these people – they could not really hear and understand her because they were in a deep spiritual darkness and bondage, and it was up to her to break it. She realized that she had to speak the words to command Satan to release these people so that the blood of Christ could heal them. _"Oh great,"_ she thought _, "the two things I will get arrested for saying!"_

Nonetheless, she caught her breath and, before the guards could do anything, called out for Satan to let these people go in the name of Jesus, for His blood to cover them and break the bondage that Satan held them in. And then she returned to speaking. The guards began to jump up, but since she just calmly continued speaking 'appropriately' after her quick outburst, they sat back down.

But then it began to happen.

She said that as she continued talking, one by one she could see the people start to blink, then shake their heads and blink again. Then they began looking around with interest. Slowly they began to smile, then to move, and within 15 minutes she had hundreds of those people on their feet, clapping and shouting in praise of the Lord.

It was a miracle.

It was also an example to me of how entire peoples can be bound up in such a spiritual darkness that they can have ears to hear – and not; and eyes to see – and not; and just go about day by day without witnessing the incredible power, glory and signs of God all around us. And I realized that that was the state of the people in Chicago that day – in fact, it is the state of a large part of our _nation_ today. The spiritual darkness is so great that we have completely and totally lost our way. And as Jesus himself said, if such _"darkness is within you, how great will that darkness be."_ Matt. 6:23

Chapter 17

" _And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself"  
John 14:3_

But by far the most important thing spiritually to happen to us while in Chicago happened to Sarah. It was the day that JJ had left to go pick up his mother Mary at the airport in Chicago. Sarah had just woken up from her nap and I was in her room changing her diaper. She was about 2 or so years old. She laid on her back on the bed while I changed her diaper and the whole time she had a little toy in her hand that she was looking at and playing with. She asked, _"Where daddy go?"_

I replied, _"Daddy went to pick up Nana, Nana is coming to visit."_

" _Oh,"_ she said, _"Mary."_

" _Well yes,"_ I responded, _"Nana's real name is Mary, but you children call her Nana because she is your Nana."_

Sarah kept playing with her toy. _"And my name MarySarah. Jesus call me 'MarySarah! MarySarah!'"_

I just chuckled at that. _"Oh really, Sarah? And what else does Jesus say to you?"_

I kept laughing. Absentmindedly while playing with her toy, she continued, _"Jesus say in the last days He come back and get me."_

I froze. I stopped laughing. Sarah just kept playing with her toys.

" _Sarah_..." I said very slowly _, "what does Jesus look like?"_

" _Oh,"_ she replied, _"Jesus real sparkly, Jesus sparkles."_

At that I realized that Sarah had just told me her real name, MarySarah – but she had never been called that in her life. It was just on her birth certificate – she wasn't even in school yet, where she could have heard it registered. No one in our home had ever called her by that name; in fact no one outside of the immediate family even knew it _was_ her name. But she knew it – and she knew it because _Jesus_ called her that. I decided that, if Jesus calls her by her full name, then so should we. And we have since then. I also realized that, whatever the 'last days' are, they would happen in MarySarah's lifetime.

When JJ and Mary returned that day from the airport, and I told them what had happened, Mary stated that there must be a very special purpose for Jesus to appear like that to a child. She admonished us that we needed to be careful that MarySarah was raised in a manner that kept us, and her, focused on God. Sadly, I'm afraid that I have not been consistent with that – for my actions have not always matched my words...

(But you know what? God is just a little smarter than me, and a few steps ahead – as you will see later...)

For soon after, things 'improved' again. On New Year's Eve, JJ and I went out for dinner. We had been looking at homes to buy in the Greater Chicago area and were beginning to narrow our focus. JJ went over all of the places we could afford. I hesitated and he stopped and asked what I was thinking. I told him that, although I was okay with making this area our home, I really had had my heart set on moving closer to family. Once we bought a home, I knew that that option would be out.

The next morning was my Eucharistic Adoration and so I was up and out by 4:30am. When I returned to the house, I found a map on the table opened to Connecticut, with a big circle including my parent's town on one side and his parent's town on the other. Smack dab in the center was Old Saybrook.

It seems that when I left for church, JJ got up, went on the computer and saw that there was a job available at his seniority level flying out of JFK. _One job_ , his seniority level, posted right at that moment in the middle of the night – he happened to wake up bothered by our conversation, checked the computer and saw it. He instantly applied for it on the computer and got it. It would be two more years before a job like that _ever_ reached as low as his seniority level again. Another fluke?

I had already learned that there are no such things as 'flukes'.

I also saw, once again, the blessings God sends to those who obey Him and step out in trust. In hindsight I realized that if I had thrown a tantrum and insisted that I live in Connecticut near family at the very beginning – regardless of where JJ had to commute to – then our marriage would have probably never survived. Thrown into the civilian world with its emphasis on 'entitlement' and 'rights', I would have been overwhelmed by dealing with JJ's absences again while he commuted, and my anger would have been stoked over and over again by well meaning people telling me to just 'assert' myself. Had we tried to do it all on the shoestring salary he was paid that year, we would have been miserable – and we would have been divided. A house divided cannot stand.

As it was, I followed JJ, trusted in the Lord to deal with my disappointment, and was rewarded beyond my wildest dreams. Another lesson I've learned – God is much more reliable than anybody else. Better to put my trust in Him then in women's rights, entitlement programs, assertiveness training or anything else!

Chapter 18

" _And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled only to those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers..."  
2 Corinthians 4: 3-4_

And so we moved to Connecticut. Things changed there. Just like my Christian friends in Florida had predicted, as I moved deeper into the heart of the spiritual darkness of New England, my eyesight dimmed and my hearing dulled. I spoke less about Jesus because when I did it was like striking a match on flint. People who would never _think_ of making fun of another person thought nothing of ridiculing my faith – to my face. Not being much of a fighter, I withdrew. It's natural to want to be liked.

And so I bought into the incredibly stupid **Lie** that we should put God in a box – a _1-hour-on-Sunday box_ – and not let Him impact our, or anyone else's, lives in the meantime. The deceptive **Lie** that indifference for the eternal souls of other people can actually be relabeled as 'tolerance'; and become a goal to strive for.

Boy does that **Lie** make Satan's job so much easier! Ignorance then rules! In fact, it rules all the way to the grave.

And of course, once we moved to Connecticut, life was much easier. Keeping close to God is very easy when He is all you've got. We tend to take Him for granted though, when the living is good and we just plain don't _need_ Him much anymore. Hey, we'll come visit for an hour on Sunday, okay God?

Put in a box, God gets awfully little in our eyes – and conversely, we get awfully big – which helps explain our excuses for sin. The CREATOR OF THE UNIVERSE becomes nothing more than a feel good tonic, or, at best, a tradition we undertake each week. Imagine if we were that powerful – and that disrespected...

If it were me, everybody would have been fried long ago.

But actually, this is nothing new. Around 622 BC, God was pointing out this same problem to Ezekiel. _"Now look at the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters were proud, sated with food, complacent in prosperity..."_ Ezekiel 16:49.

Let's face it – there truly IS nothing new under the sun! _"History merely repeats itself. It has all been done before. Nothing under the sun is truly new."_ Ecclesiastes 1:9.

What a shocker – God has said THAT before too! It's almost like He is _all knowing_ or something! Freaky!!

Even so, forgetting about God may just be human nature, but in the last 15 years I have also come to meet, and grown to admire, people who have grown up with deep devotion and spiritual faith. Whether in Protestant homes where scripture was read and memorized daily, or Catholic homes where rosaries were prayed and sacraments attended; they were taught as children to turn to Jesus day and night, in good times and bad, for help – but also simply for companionship. As children they watched their parents, and grandparents, turn to God before anything else – in happy times, sad times, stressful times and plain old everyday times. As a result, they are now people for whom prayer is as natural as breathing.

In the Bible it states plainly that ALL knees will bend at the name of Jesus. It is just a question of when. Those who grow up 'bending their knees' all the time – naturally just seem to walk through life a little lighter. They 'get it'. Alcoholics anonymous was created by a Christian with Christian principles – the greatest of which is the concept that most people will not accept their alcoholism until they hit rock bottom – until they are driven to their knees by losing absolutely everything and having to confront their deficiency. I see now that that may be God's method for ALL of us, as well.

(Case in point – how many Prophets, with warnings, did God send to _speak_ to Israel? And what did it finally take for them to listen? Oh, that's right – destruction and deportation...)

And yet people who go to their knees often and willingly, seem to get through this life with better understanding; more joy. Their lives are in no means _easier_ – they just know there is a meaning for everything that happens, and that makes all the difference. How you view something matters. If someone comes up and hits you, it makes you mad. But if someone comes up and hits you, to push you out of the way of a car, it makes you grateful.

Same action, different feelings. And that's the difference I see in people of faith.

I have come to believe that unfortunately, people like me who do not instinctively 'go to my knees,' are forced to them through one awful life experience after another until we finally 'get it' – until we realize it is on our knees where we find the most peace and joy. I think that that actually shows how much God loves us, how much he wants us to return to him. If he didn't want us, he would not be taking such drastic measures to bring us back. He just wouldn't care. I thank him now that he didn't give up on me, that he _did_ take those measures to bring me back – regardless of how hard it all was. But it sure was not easy.

Nothing of real value ever is.

Nonetheless, when I look back at my time in Connecticut, I am saddened that, with all I had been through, I still let my faith slack off. An easier life caused my focus to turn back to this world – and I lost focus on the next one. I also lost focus on how much my spiritual Mother, Mary, had done for me; how close we had become. She had _never_ neglected me, but I came to neglect her. How would I feel if my children did that to me? How does Jesus feel to see me so disparage his own Mother? But as a mother still loves her child, regardless of what they do, so does Mary. And for that I can only thank the Mercies of God.

Anyway, in hindsight I'm able to see that spiritual things of course kept happening during our time in Connecticut, but I just didn't connect them together like I had before; I was always so _busy_. Another victory for Satan is our busy-ness – which keeps us, and especially our over-scheduled children, from paying any attention to God. It keeps our focus on this world and ourselves. There's that ignorance to the grave program again – notice how Satan has different methods that all lead to the same thing?

Notice how stupid we are that we don't see what tools we've become for him?

And of course, pride and selfishness don't help either. Once back in the state where I was a licensed attorney; JJ encouraged me to return to the practice of law. Suddenly being a person who shapes an eternal soul was not quite as attractive as being something that society thinks is special – a 'professional'. For the first time I was attracting respect for doing something that was really 'important'; and I must admit – the respect was kinda nice. Who cared that it was not based on reality, and what _really_ matters?! It was enough to pull me in...

Nonetheless, building up a law practice certainly added to my 'busy-ness.'

Even so, one thing did stick out during the last few years in Connecticut. It involved a visit to My Father's House in Moodus, Connecticut. My Father's House is a Charismatic Catholic retreat center in Moodus that often brings in speakers who are part of the charismatic movement. One weekend several years ago, I saw that there was a woman coming who had the gift of prophecy. I went to check it out. She spoke a lot about the visions she had seen of the 'end times.' She spoke that we needed to be ready – that the Lord showed her that a great number of people were not going to make it through those times. She went on and on. After her speech, she was able to meet with people individually to see if she had any insight for their lives. I said why not? I sat down with her and we spoke for a while. She then laid her hands on my hands _. "Oh my goodness!"_ she exclaimed, _"God has a special purpose for you picked out! He will send the children to you! In the last days there will be so many children without parents; God plans to send them to you. You will care for them."_

And that was that. It seemed pretty odd and so I just forgot about it. Which was easy to do since I was so... _busy._

And then about 3 years later Jessica got involved in a Protestant church nearby. She went each Sunday and Wednesday to services. She raved on and on about the pastor, an older black woman who Jessica said was amazing because when she laid her hands on Jessica, she told her everything about her.

Jessica kept asking me to go to a service with her. So one Sunday I did. It was nice, kind of like a Bible study. At the end of the service, the pastor asked if we wanted her to lay her hands on us and bless us. Jessica said yes and I said, "well, ok."

She laid her hands on Jessica and blessed her, speaking of all the things the Lord loved so much about Jessica. They were all true. Then it was my turn. She placed her hands on my head and began praying for me. Suddenly she stopped. Then I heard her say, _"Oh my goodness, God has a special purpose for you picked out! He will send the children to you! He has chosen you to care for the children in the last days!!"_

I was amazed. Two different people, years apart, two totally different faith communities and both said the _exact same thing._

Kind of freaky, eh?

But time goes on, and remember – I was _very_ _busy_.

And then in the spring of 2005, Sally, a Prosecutor in one of the Courthouses, asked me if I would be interested in going on a pilgrimage with her to a place called Prince Edward Island. She knew I was also a Catholic, and thought I might want to go. All I could think was.... _"Time away to myself? Where do I sign up?"_

I barely knew her, but figured it couldn't hurt, plus maybe it would be good for business to become better friends with other lawyers. (There's that worldly thinking again. Isn't it amazing how God uses _where_ we are, to take us to where _He_ is?) Anyway, only half thinking about it, I signed up. What I didn't know was that God was getting ready to reach back into my world and shake me awake again.

Chapter 19

"... _to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God..."  
Acts 26:18_

Before I knew it, it was early on a Wednesday in July, and we were all getting on a huge bus. There was Sally (my age), me, and 48 elderly-people-on-oxygen.... Alright, so really it was Sally, me, families with kids and a few older people. It just seems like they were all elderly-on-oxygen every time we had to get on and off of the bus – do you know how long _forever_ is?

You see, I knew nothing about the reason why we were all heading up to Prince Edward Island. (I was just too _busy_ to take any time to look at the information before we left...) I'd never even _heard_ of Prince Edward Island! And I had _no_ idea how _far_ it was away!! But once on the bus, I discovered that there was a Priest up in PEI who had been having apparitions of the Blessed Mother, who he referred to as "Our Lady." Seems she had told him that all people who came to her there would be healed, and blessed in some way. Interesting, I thought, somewhat cynically.

I had been a long time in Connecticut; cynicism ruled.

Anyway; what with me, Sally, and 48-people-with-one-foot-in-the-grave (oh, alright, make it a few older citizens); it took FOREVER to get to PEI. 2 days to be exact. We traveled 3 hours, stopped for a full sit down dinner for 2 hours, drove 3 more hours, stopped for another sit down meal, drove again and the pattern repeated. You don't get very far traveling like that. So we did not reach PEI until late on the second day. By then Sally was about to strangle someone.

Sally is a prosecutor and has the power to send bad people to jail – as she'll tell you; patience is not her thing. Then again, I am _not_ a prosecutor; I have a bunch of kids and you would think that patience _would_ be my thing – but even so, I was ready to hand Sally the rope. Add to that, my neck was KILLING me. I had dealt with neck issues since lugging all the kids around in front, and back, packs as babies. However, the stress of my law practice is what _really_ brought it out. My muscles were tied up in one solid knot – but of course I was so _busy_ – I really hadn't the time to deal with it.

But that was all irrelevant when we reached the bridge to the island. We drove over the bridge and I could see the island in the distance –

And it was like looking at heaven.

We stopped and did tourism stuff first. We went to the home that was the setting of the "Ann of Green Gables" books. It was beautiful. It was also a little odd. Sally is an avid gardener. The house had gorgeous full gardens, but Sally starting muttering to herself, _"that's not right, now how can that be?"_ and on and on.

Finally I asked her what she was talking about. She replied that different plants bloom at different times, different growing seasons. But she was looking at a garden that had early, mid and late spring flowers; early, mid and late summer flowers; early, mid and late fall flowers – and every single solitary one was blooming. It was eerie. It was also the most beautiful and colorful garden I'd ever seen. In fact everything was more beautiful than I had ever seen it. The grass was such a brilliant green, the sky such a deep blue. Brights brighter and whites whiter – I felt I must be in a detergent commercial!! But seriously, you just looked around and felt, well, _joyful_! It was as though all your cares were gone and you weren't actually on a bus with 48 people dying all around you (Ok, Ok....). I couldn't remember when, if ever, I had felt that carefree before; and happy.

It was actually kind of unnerving.

Anyway, we all traipsed back on the bus, me, Sally, and 48... You know. The feeling of happiness continued, but it was also bound in with the feeling of exhaustion and so I was only half listening to our tour director Ellis as he began talking about the island and Father Douglas. Ellis is quite a character. Picture Santa Claus, and picture Jesus – you've got Ellis. Ellis had early in the trip told us the story of his life. It seems that he was raised by (I think) university professors; both stanch atheists. He had had atheism drilled into him from birth, and just assumed that those who believed in God were simply ignorant. About mid way through his life, he had a pretty incredible miracle happen to him. After that he traveled the whole country seeking the truth. He is a writer by trade, and after learning about Christianity, he was led to Mexico where he saw Our Lady of Guadalupe, and more miraculous things happened to him there. He is now a devote Catholic who seeks the intercession of Mary daily. His faith is amazing.

The power of faith is amazing, and you see it in lives lived such as his. They are like sparkling jewels among a sea of monotony – the power of God just radiates out in every single direction.

Anyway, Ellis was rambling on and on and I was barely paying attention, just looking out the window in my tiredness. And then I heard, _"well, I don't know about you, but I just feel better when I'm on this island... Nothing hurts me here."_ Suddenly, I realized – my neck!! It hadn't hurt me since we drove onto the island! That's odd, it was KILLING me before. I swiveled my head back and forth, _"Sally!"_ I exclaimed _, "My neck doesn't hurt!!"_

I perked up and listened closer.

Ellis went on to ask us to imagine living in Nazi Germany in WWII. Now people in Germany got up each and every day and made breakfast for their kids, went off to work, did laundry, watched the news and went to bed each night – all totally oblivious to the fact that, on the outskirts of their towns, millions of innocent people were being gassed, tortured and murdered each and every day.

" _Now,"_ Ellis noted, " _if you are a person who believes in spiritual things, if you are a person of faith, then you must recognize that there cannot be that much raw evil in a land without the spiritual darkness of that evil seeping into every part of that nation."_

Ellis then went on and explained that today in _our_ nation, we get up, go to work, come home and live our lives while, at the same time all over our country, young, confused, scared and hurting mothers are convinced by those in power to lay their bodies down (for a price, of course) and let their children be killed within their womb in the name of 'freedom'. They of course are not given any other _choices,_ just the one choice to kill. They are brainwashed into thinking that to choose 'death' is better than choosing 'life'.

Yet when God's law was first given to Moses, (the one and only time God himself wrote it out with His own hand), the people were explicitly told _"See, I have set before you today, life and prosperity, death and adversity.... I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live..."_ Deut. 30:15,19.

See why Satan wants us to be too _busy_ to read the Bible?

If God Himself is setting up a dichotomy of either/or, and He is pointing out that only one of the 'eithers' is acceptable, who do you think is promoting the other one? If you look in Deuteronomy at the blessings that God promised them (and us) for choosing life and following his ways; you will see a utopia, pretty much what I found on Prince Edward Island.

Conversely, if you look in Deuteronomy and see the curses that God has promised will follow those who choose death, you will see a picture of America today. Illness, pestilence, horrific weather, mental disease, murder, cynicism, selfishness, hate, jealousy, prejudice, disrespect, envy, contempt, immorality and everywhere good being made to look bad, and evil being made to look 'hip' and attractive.

Ellis then explained that Our Lady had told Father Douglas that she considered Prince Edward Island 'holy ground'; and that was why she was appearing there. PEI is the only location, in the entire Northern hemisphere, where 'her children' are not being killed, and young mothers are not being abused; i.e. where abortions are not being performed.

In Genesis 4, you will find where Cain became jealous of his brother Abel and killed him. The Lord thereafter appeared to Cain and asked, _"Where is your brother Abel?"_

Cain said, _"I do not know, am I my brother's keeper?"_

And the Lord replied, _"What have you done? Listen! Your brother's blood is crying out to me from the ground! And now you are cursed..."_

In Prince Edward Island, life is matter-of-factly accepted as coming from God and hence evil does not permeate the air. In addition, the blood of millions of tiny innocent bodies (conveniently labeled 'medical waste') does not cry out to God – _and you can actually FEEL it._

Ellis explained that the result of this evil in our land is slowly having a toll. People just feel oppressed, unhappy, lost. We are the richest nation on earth and even the poor among us live better than the kings and queens of 300 years ago. Yet we are depressed, unable to shake this feeling of oppression and hopelessness. There is no clear thinking because the effects of the evil in our land are strangling it out.

Once in PEI, that was so clear to me. The whole time there I just _felt_ better, free-er, more content. My thinking was clearer, quicker. I wondered how it was I didn't _see_ this mental slowness in the States; it was just so plain in PEI... but ultimately, so... inconsequential. For the problems waiting for me at home were still there, but somehow they just didn't seem as important, as troubling as they had before I left. Looking upon them from PEI, there seemed to be easy answers, and none of the heaviness of decision. The stifling oppression was gone. And those feelings of surety and peace lasted – until we left Prince Edward Island.

Chapter 20

" _The One forming light and creating darkness, Causing well-being and creating calamity; I am the LORD who does all these."  
Isaiah 45:7_

But that wasn't all I realized in PEI. When we first reached the Prayer Room at Father Douglas's home in Tignish, I still didn't 'get it'. I felt better, but was still so cynical. Although Father Douglas seemed like such a sweet, simple and holy man, that was still a long way from admitting that the Blessed MOTHER was _appearing_ to him!

Nonetheless, something was going on. Sally had grown up in a devote Catholic home. She had been to a Charismatic Catholic college, and then a born again Protestant Law School. A lot of this she had seen before. She had seen her share of real spiritual happenings, and fake spiritual happenings. I kept asking her opinion, but she was withholding judgment. Yet after a while, there was no mistaking it. You could feel the spiritual power in that room. The effect on people was incredible to witness. The culmination was a healing mass where people were 'slain by the spirit'. I had never heard of that before, but Sally explained that it is essentially when the Priest blesses you and calls for the Holy Spirit to heal you and descend onto you. Some people receive the power of the Holy Spirit so strongly that they are literally knocked over and/or out. It happened to practically everyone in that room.

Even Sally finally admitted that something was going on. Father Douglas told us in amazement how, each time Our Lady asked him to do something and he responded that, as a retired priest he had no money to do so, she would send someone who did have money. Within days people would call him, offering him their professional skills, and even the funds necessary.

Sally mentioned that she was involved in the early Catholic Charismatic Movement in the US, and saw people being very generous to the Priests then also. _"But,"_ she continued, _"They were all young, handsome, and dynamic speakers. Look at this guy! He is so unassuming, who would give him anything?!"_

And I had to admit that, sweet as Father Douglas was, he was not exactly what I would call 'young'; and at times when he began giving his doctrinal lectures, it was obvious that there should have been a supply of 'no-doze'. It was surely nothing that _he_ was doing – it had to be a connection made spiritually.

But the most amazing thing was what I saw that evening. The night before the healing mass we were at the prayer room. Richard, a friend of Father Douglas's, was visiting. As we were leaving I noticed him excitedly telling someone about something. We went over and discovered that he had seen the sun spinning as it was setting – a classic sign of Mary's presence – first seen at Fatima in 1917.

We were so disappointed to have missed it that we made him promise to get us if he saw it again. Sure enough, next day in the middle of the healing mass I saw him come into the room and gesture to us. A young woman named Jen and I saw him and left the room. We got to the back door and Richard said, _"Look! It's spinning!"_

Ever tried looking, really _looking_ at the sun?

It's impossible; it is just so bright it burns your eyes. In fact, I'm told that it will blind you if you stare long enough. So I tried to look at it but it was too bright to hold my gaze more than an instant. But suddenly, clear as a bell, something clicked and I could SEE, actually SEE, the sun.

And it was spinning.

Jen spoke in an excited whisper, _"OH MY GOSH!! I CAN SEE IT!! Can you see it Genovi?"_

I responded as honestly as I could, _"I can't believe that I am staring at the sun!! I can stare at the sun!! I can't believe it!!"_

It was amazing. As we stared, the sun continued to spin clockwise, throwing off shadows as though liquid on its surface. It looked a little like a child's pinwheel. Just as suddenly, it began jumping up and down in the sky – just a bit, as though dancing. Jess would ask me each time what I was seeing – I kept responding that I could see it spinning and jumping, but I still couldn't get beyond the fact that I was staring at the sun!!

We stood there for at least a half hour, all three of us staring at the sun, asking each other if we were seeing the same thing – all of us finding it difficult to believe it was happening. And slowly, after a long time, while still spinning and dancing – the sun began to set into the horizon.

And that; was that.

The only place I know where the sun has been spinning currently is Medjugorje. Now I first heard of, and researched, Medjugorje while in Florida. It is the city in Yugoslavia where the Blessed Mother has been appearing to six children since the 1980's. They are no longer children and she continues to appear to only three of them. Her message is always the same.

It is, in fact, the same message that Thomas Jefferson gave at the dawn of our nation. He wrote that when he considered that we serve a Just God, he shuddered for our nation – for he knew that God's justice could not be delayed forever. Mary says the same. Over and over again she begs for us to 'Pray, Repent, Pray'.

Mary appeared in the late 1800's to Bernadette at Lourdes and begged for the same – prayer and repentance. Although documented with miracles and witnesses, not many responded to Mary's call. World War I followed.

During World War I, Mary appeared to 3 small shepherd children at Fatima and told them to tell people to pray, pray and repent or the world would see an even greater war to come. Again, though documented with miracles and, this time, thousands of witnesses, how did we respond? We launched right into the roaring 20's; with money, sin and greed.

At Fatima Portugal, over 70,000 witnessed 'The Miracle of the Sun'. The Blessed Mother had promised a miracle for those who attended her final Apparition on October 13, 1917. Thousands responded, many of them atheists, along with cynical reporters for the major secular newspapers in Portugal.

It was a rainy chilly day in Portugal and everything was drenched and muddy under the steady downpour. Still the people came, growing saturated in the rainfall. Suddenly, the 3 small shepherd children fell on their knees, as a sign that Mary had appeared. No one else could see her.

Yet as she was leaving the children for the last time, the clouds began to break and suddenly the sun shone through. As the thousands of witnesses shouted out in surprise, the sun began to spin and then to dance up and down throwing off colors against the clouds. Suddenly, it seemed to break free from the sky and begin falling toward the earth. The people panicked. A reporter who had been there to mock the children wrote afterwards that his new bride, who was with him, fainted at the sight – but the reporter was too overcome with terror to help her.

The sun grew bigger and bigger as it fell to the earth – and then – just as suddenly – it stopped and climbed back up to its proper place in the sky. It was then that the thousands realized that their clothing had dried completely – and in place of deep, deep mud – there was nothing but dry earth.

Even so, this miracle was still not enough to convince people of the reality of God, and so the Depression and World War II followed, forcing the entire world to its knees. After that we built up our prosperity and not only did everyone get up from their knees, most in our country now ridicule those who still _do_ fall on their knees!

Mary has allegedly been appearing in Yugoslavia now for pretty much 20+ years – the longest time ever. (Whereas Fatima has long since been acknowledged as true, the Catholic Church has withheld opinion on Medjugorge. It is still open to individual interpretation; although the lives of countless millions have been changed by going there.)

Nonetheless, it seemed that Mary was now appearing in Prince Edward Island also. She continues to ask people to pray, to change their lives, and to turn to her Son Jesus so that souls will be saved. The times are serious; as Pope Pope Pius XII (1939-1959) declared: _"We believe that the present hour is a dread phase of the events foretold by Christ. It seems that darkness is about to fall on the world. Humanity is in the grip of a supreme crisis."_

And as St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582), a Carmelite nun and a Spanish mystic **,** noted: " _I saw souls falling into hell like snowflakes."_

Yet how have we responded? Well, look around; we had the roaring 90's, money, sin and greed.

Not much has changed.

Does following Mary's request for prayer and repentance matter? You decide.

The atomic bomb that devastated Hiroshima, Japan, on August 6, 1945, landed just eight blocks from the Jesuit church of Our Lady of the Assumption, instantly killing a half-million people and leveling homes and buildings for miles around. Yet the church, rectory and the four priests inside were undamaged and unhurt. Those four priests had heard and followed Mary's Fatima message, and prayed the Rosary daily in response...

It matters.

While at PEI, Father Douglas gave a lot of talks on Contemplative Prayer. He also spoke of the effect of the prayer room on people who had gone there. Right before we left he mentioned one man who had come to check it out. This man was very successful and had a sports car that he loved. That car meant everything to him. After he returned home, he called Father to let him know that as soon as he got home he sold the car – it just didn't really mean that much to him anymore. As we were getting ready to leave PEI, I spoke with Father and his friend Richard. I joked that the sports car story was really a convincing miracle, because I knew how men were with their sports cars – my husband had one that nobody could go near!!

As I left, I asked them to pray for JJ, our family and me so that we would turn our focus back to the Lord. I asked the same from Our Lady. I apologized to Her for letting other things in our life take away our focus on the Lord, take away the closeness I had felt when it was just me, 4 sick kids and a husband on the other side of the world. I asked that she intercede with her Son on our behalf so as to help draw us all back.

And with that, we left for home.

Chapter 21

" _You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit..."  
John 15:16_

It was a long trip back – remember the bus schedule? When I got home I gave JJ a big hug. The first thing he said to me, before I could get a word out was, _"Hi honey, guess what? While you were gone I decided to sell my car. It just doesn't mean very much to me anymore."_

And who says miracles don't happen?

The other effect the trip had on me was a burning desire to buy a piece of property up there. The same day I got home, I went on the Internet and started looking for PEI property. When I saw how inexpensive it all was compared to Connecticut, I was fueled even more. Over the next few weeks, I contacted realtor after realtor, making plans to come back at some point. Finally, Joanie, my adventurous sister, said she would go back with me.

I HAD A PLAN!!

My idea of buying property was finally starting to get on JJ's radar screen and he wanted to know what in the world I was talking about. He wasn't too keen on the whole idea. We had just purchased a condo in North Carolina after years and years of planning, looking and saving. And that had stretched us to the limit. Was I insane?

I pressed on.

And then the call came from Will, Joanie's husband. Joanie and I were planning on leaving in a week. I had properties lined up to look at – especially a tiny home right on the water. I had seen that cottage in July when I first came back, listed at a price we could afford. Miraculously it was still on the market in August! I was anxious to see it. So when Will called to tell me that Joanie had injured her back and could not make the trip, I was bitterly disappointed. I had so looked forward to the time away with her; I wanted to get her up to see Father Douglas and to show her the island. She had been suffering from MS for almost 20 years – I was hopeful she could be cured. But it was all gone in one phone call.

The call came while JJ and I were walking the golf course with Colby during one of his tournaments. Feeling sorry for me, JJ said that he would go to PEI with me during his vacation time in September, instead of going to North Carolina as we had planned. I couldn't believe it.

I got home and called Father Douglas – guess what? There was another group there during that week – French Canadians from Quebec – and they were having another healing mass!! JJ would get to experience one just like I had! I was so excited, though still somewhat disappointed as I suspected there was no way the cottage I liked would still be on the market come September.

And then September came. One thing after another kept coming up, almost causing us to cancel our trip. But I pressed on and insisted we go. At the last minute I contacted the realtor again to see if the cottage on the shore was still for sale. He responded that it was. Funny, he said, they kept getting contracts on it and for one reason after another; each contract would fall through....

We left very early for PEI. Five hours to Maine. 3 hours from there to the border. 5 hours from the border to the island. (But at least no 2-hour sit-downs in restaurants along the way!!). We got in late. I watched to see JJ's opinion of the island. He thought it looked _'nice'_. That was about it.

The next morning we went to the prayer room for morning mass. Richard was there too. I reintroduced myself to Richard. He gave JJ and me big hugs when he realized who we were. He had been praying for us – and here we were!!

After the mass we drove to the west coast where there was a piece of vacant land, several acres on the ocean that I wanted to look at. We found it. The beach was beautiful, but JJ said he didn't like it. Although the cottage I wanted to see was on the east coast, we decided to head to the northern tip of the island, and see that first. So we headed back to the car.

As I got in I suddenly noticed that the clouds were blocking the sun in such a way that there were streams of light shining through and forming a half circle right over toward the eastern shore. It was so bright, and so precise; it was kind of weird looking. I pointed it out to JJ. _"Yeah, nice,"_ was his enthusiastic response...

We started off northward, but then JJ suddenly said, _"well, we're pretty close to the east shore, let's go look at that cottage there."_

We turned toward the rays of light, still in the same place several minutes later. It was like the clouds just weren't moving. As we got closer we kept getting lost, each time we turned back toward the light, we were able to find the right road. All this time, and the rays of light were still there, still forming the shape of a cupped hand around something in the distance. I kept pointing it out to JJ; more, _"yeah nice"_.

Finally, we turned onto the road that would take us to the shore. Sure enough we saw a sign marking the tiny (a dozen homes maybe?) community. We turned onto the road – the light still shining. We pulled up in front of the house. _"Wow,"_ said JJ.

He got out of the car and immediately walked down the path to the beach in front of the cottage. I caught up to find him standing on a gorgeous beach, red cliffs in the distance to the right, a fishing harbor with lighthouse down a ways to the left – lobster boats pulling in and out.

" _Wow,"_ he said again _, "how much do they want for this?"_

I told him. _"Wow,"_ he said a third time.

We walked up and looked at the outside of the house. It was cute, but a fixer upper. Looked like an old farmhouse. At that I asked him, _"So do you think you might be interested in buying something while we're up here?"_

He turned to me, and then pointed to the house, _"I'd be interested in buying that, and only that."_

We got back into the car. I looked out the window; the rays of light were gone.

Chapter 22

" _Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths."  
Proverbs 3:5-6_

And so now, what can I say? It was JJ's idea to change the original title of this missive from A Memoir of Faith to something about the home. (I've since changed it to the current title, after 1st writing Prodigal's Steps.) Jessica asked if I meant to say that all that has happened has simply led up to this story about the shore.

No, but it has all led up to now, today – just as today will lead up to tomorrow.

And on, and on.

I've long since realized that we are on a journey, each and every day. We are not citizens of Florida, Chicago, Connecticut – or anywhere. We are citizens of heaven, and God is trying His hardest to get us all safely back home. If we care enough about other people, we are also trying our best to bring them along.

In my humble opinion it seems that God sometimes has to let our own choices knock us around a bit so that we wake up to His presence, and turn our focus back to Him – and our real home. That is what happened to me all those years ago in the Navy. And for that, it was all worth it.

For once we wake up to reality, I think that God is able to use us for what our real purpose here is – bringing as many other people home with us – as we can.

Nothing else matters.

_Nothing_.

We will not spend eternity _here;_ we will spend it in Heaven. _That's_ where you want the people you love.

Since the dawn of time God has been wooing all his children, – and since the dawn of time Satan has been working to trick them into thinking that _this place_ is the one that matters, the one we should work so hard for. God has given us the free will to make that choice – which place will we live for? Whose side are we on? Where are we 'storing up our treasure'?

I now know that He uses his children (us) as soldiers in the fight.

But until we finally 'get it', we are just plain worthless in the battle.

I don't know about you, but when I walk away from movies like _Star Wars_ or _Lord of the Rings_ I wish that my life could matter that much. I wish that, like Luke Skywalker or Frodo, I would have the courage to persevere and conquer evil. Since God has woken me up, I have come to believe that we are living in the time that will see just that. And there is really not much that we need to do, besides continuing to walk the path God has placed us on and try to bring along all those He puts in our way.

For that is the goal – the ONLY goal – getting His children back home.

Due to the path I have walked, I think I know just how He feels. When Colby and Rachel were missing, I didn't really care what they had done (or not done), how talented they were (or weren't), even how much they loved (or didn't love) me.

All I wanted was to just get them safely back home.

It is an overwhelming need, a desire that screams through every fiber of your being – _'Just let me get them back home, let me get them where there is no more pain, no more sadness, no more terror – where there is only my love.'_

I simply don't _know_ how the Lord can live with such agony each and every moment; watching, waiting and hoping that we make that choice – that we say we want to go home. And if we choose to go home, we will – no matter our past, no matter what we have or haven't done.

All we have to do is what, if you think about it, Frodo did.

We have to make sure that we watch the path carefully so that we don't get lost, that we walk it with a true friend (Jesus), and that we don't cling to one spot so long that we don't want to leave it.

For we will _always_ have to leave, and after we have left, we will always wonder why we were so attached to that spot back there when there are so many better things, downright _glorious things –_ waiting ahead of us.

And so I send this to you now. I hope that it explains 'where I am coming from'. To some people, I may be "too" religious. To me, it is simple. I have had the veil pulled back and seen the reality of this world, and its place in the greater scheme of eternity – once seen, it is impossible to look at it all in the same way again.

Am I desperate that others know these things before it is too late? Yes, for I love them. And I see the pain in all of our lives, and it cuts to the heart.

For I know that it is solely because of Jesus Christ that I have hope each day, and a peaceful heart. It is because of Him that I don't worry so much anymore, that I laugh more and feel a real joy within my heart that is unexplainable. It is because of Him that I am no longer afraid to grow older, for I realize that I am getting closer to going home – to going to my _real_ home.

For surely:

'I know the plans God has for me, plans for good, and not evil; plans to give me a future, and a hope.' (Jeremiah 29:11)

He has the same plans for you.

Afterword

I originally wrote this little book for my parents and siblings in 2005. I had seen how much God had done in my life; and I had hoped for theirs to be so enriched. But that didn't happen. Instead the culture grew ever darker around us, the evil encroached on our own home, and in 2007 my husband and I had no other choice but to flee for our children's lives. I wrote the story behind all that in my earlier book: "Prodigal's Steps". However, _this story_ is the precursor to "Prodigal's Steps": for it tells how I grew to have faith to begin with. It all happened exactly as you saw in this book (though of course, not everything could be included – that would take forever...); but it sure was a huge wake up call for someone like me who had it all 'figured out, suitcased AND controlled'.

When He walked on this earth, Jesus was always asking people if they had 'eyes to see, and ears to hear'. Yet as far as I could tell, he was always asking that of people who DID have eyes that could see; and ears that could hear. So why in the world would He be asking perfectly healthy people that question?

What on earth was He getting at?!!

Well, after my 'wake up call' I realized that I could stop wondering what His problem was; because I could finally see what MINE was. I had eyes – that didn't see; and ears – that didn't hear. Seems nowadays that pretty much describes everyone else also... We miss God's presence and work in our lives because we just don't SEE, and we just don't HEAR.

But nonetheless, God is there, and He is ever working. He is working in my life – He is working in yours. Please don't be as hardheaded as I was – and both of your jobs will be much, much easier!

Confession

The experiences, joys and trials that I have written about here are all entirely true. They happened – I was there. However, because this is a story about my children as much as it is about me, and because the information about their lives in my other book, _Prodigal's Steps_ , involves awfully personal stuff about things they did – I have changed all of our names and many of our places to protect them. They didn't ask for their mom to blab every single personal thing about their life to the world – and so I have promised them that they can continue to live their own lives in peace. Therefore, you will not find a 'James' family, or a Genovi, J.J., Jessica, Colby, Rachel and Sarah James anywhere.

But know that we exist under another name – and could in fact be the neighbor down the street.

Jesus frequently works quietly and unobtrusively – but never forget the fact that... He is Everywhere.

I wish you the joy and freedom of finding Him active and alive in your own family.

Blessings!

About the Author

I am a fairly predictable person: a woman of steady habits raised in the land of steady habits – New England. If left to myself, I would be found with a good book and a cup of tea. Unfortunately, with four children, I am rarely left to myself. I am, in other words, a predictable person living an unpredictable life. Children will do that to you. One minute you're sitting there, drinking your tea and reading something like 'How to organize your life in 10 easy steps'. The next minute you answer the phone and you are living 'How to keep your life from spinning out of control in 1 frantic step'.

It ain't easy.

But that's motherhood – yet apparently not ALL motherhood. I have friends (also mothers) who tell me that they are living vicariously through my stories. My stories, and my children, often make for a good laugh. Usually afterward. And always because I believe a good laugh outranks a good cry.

It wasn't always this way. There was a time in my life when I was a young, liberal, feminist law student; well on my way to solving all the problems of the world. I married a young Naval Aviator and began to travel that world. During the next years, we had 4 children and suddenly all the problems of that world seemed to move into my living room. They had names: Jessica, Colby, Rachel & Sarah.

As time went by, I began to realize that, just perhaps, I wasn't sure how to solve all the problems of the world; heck, some days I had no idea how to make it to dinner! But I hung in there and slowly, as the Lord used my 'problems' to grow my faith in Him, my focus became much clearer. And as my focus grew clearer; I began to realize just how OUT of focus so much of this world is...

Just as a camera lens has difficulty focusing in dark places, so our spiritual lenses are skewed for lack of spiritual light. Our culture is growing darker; and focusing is harder than ever...

Unless one walks with the Light of Faith – one stumbles about aimlessly. And unless one reasons with the Light of Faith – one reasons blindly. This book is the story of how I learned to walk, and reason, with that Light.

And it all came from having 'problems' with 4 children...

Also Available from Genovi James

" _As I've mentioned, the problem with seeing the world through worldly eyes is that evil disappears from your view. Yet it never really disappears. You think that you are walking in a kingdom of light, but in reality, you are walking in the wrong kingdom – and you don't even know it. And the problem with walking in the wrong kingdom is that sometimes that kingdom can come and start to walk in us. We may not even realize it – but sooner or later – we begin to figure it out_ _._ _"_

The James Family had it all: Dad, a dashing Navy fighter pilot, now skillfully flying commercial planes; Mom, a compassionate small town attorney with her own law firm. Their 4 children completed the picture: smart, athletic, successful, beautiful. This is the perfect story of how, by American standards, they had finally 'arrived'. Yet, it is also the story of how while living the American Dream, they woke up in a nightmare. And in this nightmare, life unraveled as they desperately fought to save their children – from hell itself. Join them as they equip you for the same battle.

"... _never in a million lifetimes would I have guessed that within 2 short years...; I would be back at the little cottage... – and that I would have one hand holding desperately to Christ and the other trying to pull my daughter back from the pits of hell. I was in a tug-a-war with demonic creatures that I had had no clue of until they manifested – and attacked. All I knew was that I could not let go – if I was dragged into hell itself. I would not, and could not, let go. For this was my child, flesh of my flesh and heart of my heart. Even though I no longer recognized her – I knew that she was in there somewhere. And if Satan had her captive, then by gum, he had me too; but unlike Rachel – I was still able to fight."_

Excerpt from Prodigal's Steps

It was a spring day in 2007 when my blinders finally, and completely, fell off. It was the day when my illusory world – the world our culture tells us is 'normal' – came to an end. It was the day I realized that, as we all walk this world, contrary to popular belief – we do _not_ walk alone...

Chapter 1: "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give you light. Look carefully how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:14-16)

My dear friend Grace; you know that I often tell people about the amazing journey to wholeness that my family has been through. It has been one miracle after another.

Things had gotten so ugly in our home, that we literally were thrust to our knees desperately seeking a way out. The only way that opened was the way of Abraham, the way of Moses, the way of Pilgrims, the way of countless other people of faith who have gone before:

the way of the crushed and broken Prodigal.

We could no longer stay where and how we were, and survive as a family. We simply had to leave.

Well, 7 long years later, people no longer believe me when I tell them that our children were rebellious; and our home a war zone. They think I am making it up when I say they cursed us, attacked us, ridiculed us, hated us. Our children are now beautiful, faith filled, exuding mercy and grace. Our home is now peaceful, joy filled, exuding laughter and light. In modern terms, it is even 'successful' with young people excitedly embracing caring, professional careers.

And so I blithely tell people – "step out in faith, you never KNOW what God can do!" I tell them that absolutely every good thing in J.J. and my life (and there are innumerable ones) can be traced directly back to a moment in time when we looked at each other and said, "This is the absolutely WORST thing that could have ever happened to us." I believe that this witness gives people hope; gives them a reason to hang on, a reason to try.

But I think I am neglecting something. I think I am neglecting the pain. It is easy to brush it off, to try to forget it, compartmentalize it, celebrate the good and forget – the evil. However – most people I speak to are still living the pain. That is why they are desperate. And so perhaps I should begin to mention it more.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

I had promised you, Grace, that I would write you my story – the story of a mother's hand-to-hand combat against evil, against Satan himself, to save her children. It's the story of the realization that when you fight Satan long enough – you begin to recognize him very well in the battle – BUT only when you are looking through the eyes of faith. Once your eyes are clouded with this world – he disappears into the fog. And that's when you begin to lose...

And so I begin where I last left off in my earlier book. I had written that book for my family; a family that promptly thought I was nuts. But as St. Paul went to the Gentiles in the hopes that his own people would be brought back to faith – so I am now writing _this book_ to non-family in hopes that perhaps it might speak to my own.

And hope is all I have.

My first book had detailed all the miraculous interventions God had made in my life to open my eyes to really see. It was my first cure of one of the diseases of this modern world – cynicism and belief in the futility of goodness...

This was during the time when the children were very small (Jessica was about 10, Colby was about 6, Rachel was about 4 ½ and Sarah was about 1) and I (Genovi (Gen) James) was a young Navy wife trying to make it through constant moves, long deployments (of my 'fighter-pilot' husband Jason (J.J.) James), and even more constant attacks by the enemy.

I had grown up as a "New England Catholic" – someone who went to church on Sundays in some vague hope that if this 'God thing' was actually real – then it might be my ticket into heaven. But after God sent an angel to save me, physically, from death; my eyes began to open and my mind began to wonder. Hard to deny the reality of evil, when evil had just tried to claim your life; and hard to refute the reality of goodness – when goodness showed up to save you.

So I had prayed for knowledge to know if demons were real. God opened my eyes to see them. I had prayed for knowledge to know if angels were real. God opened my eyes to see them. I was walking with eyes of faith and could see the truth – good and evil – so clearly. I was pouring that faith into my children, and they were excited to live it.

Hence, the constant attacks.

At the time, seeing through worldly eyes, I just figured that this was the way life was – very hard. Now I look back through the eyes of faith and see an enraged enemy – angry that I had 'woken up' to the truth, in this world of lies and deception – so angry, in fact, that he was just plain trying to beat me down. But there is one thing, I think, that blindsides Satan; because there is one thing, I think, he just can't understand – **Love**. I love my children, and hence, the more he attacked them, the more I fought to save them, and the harder I clung to Christ.

Because Christ was all I had.

No money, no family, not even a husband around most of the time. It was Jesus, and me; and I was holding on for dear life. Not much else you can do when you have 2 missing children in 2 years – with search parties, helicopters, swamps and alligators. Or when you have doctors telling you that you need to find your husband (on port call in Spain – sure, no problem doc!) and get him home a.s.a.p. as there is a good chance your child will just not 'make it'. Or even the little inconveniences like broken bones, constant ear infections, emotional distress, and exhaustion...

Christ – was ALL – I had. And I gotta tell you; it was hard, but it was also the best time of my life. Clinging to Jesus leaves you clinging to... joy.

And hope.

And love.

Which is a good combination, in a not-so-good world.

Story continued in "Prodigal Step's:  
The True Story of a Family's Desperate Flight Back Home"

