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These two years have been so very hard. I'm not sure I have the words to describe what it's been like. There has been so much ordinary goodness and just living life in there, that it's very hard to explain the feeling of loss and grief and dread that was always in the back of my mind, just all the time. And how even now, it's hard to recover. It feels like trying to jump onto something that's already moving. Disorienting and weird and scary. Closing the door on two years of unemployment, fear, and depression is very hard.

One year ago was probably the lowest time for me; I really thought we were about to be homeless. And it's hard to process the fact that now we're not, and it's only a year on, and will the rug be yanked out from under us again? And do we deserve this period of relative peace? Hard stuff, even harder to find the words. I'm trying to put some of this down, though, because it explains a little of where my head has been.

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Having four children has been a great gift during this time, because I was able to focus on them and their world. Keeping things stable for them was my full-time existence. I did not feel like making or doing other things. I have yarn here for sweaters for all four of my children, for a sweater for me, a granny square blanket barely begun.

When I was in the hospital with baby John after my c-section and during his unexpected long NICU stay, my sister told my mom to find my knitting and bring it to me. But I found I couldn't knit. I couldn't make myself pick it up. It might have been good for me to do it. I know it's meditative and calming and overall a healthy thing to do. But that time in the hospital when I couldn't knit was the beginning of two years of not wanting to pick up any projects.

I did knit a few stitches here and there; I completed one baby sweater for John, a couple of gifts for a new nephew and one or two friends' babies.

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But mostly, I had too much to process for even knitting to help. Today I wound a skein of the yarn I have had set aside for a sweater for myself. John, who at nearly two-and-a-half is not really "BabyJohn" anymore, but instead a delightful curly-haired imp of a toddler, squealed with glee as the swift spun jauntily on the table. I realized that he has never seen me wind yarn before. In his two short years of life, he has had a very different mama than the one his older siblings have known.

It was surprising to me. Not sad, just surprising. Anyway, I don't know if I will get this sweater knit with any speed. I am not sure I'll even cast it on for another month or two. But I'm reminded of things that have mattered to me in the past, and things that matter to me still, if I listen quietly to my heart.

Creating beautiful things is an important part of me. Maybe a part that's been resting quietly while the rest of me has been doing battle. But it's in there still. Today this adorably funny toddler is two years old! How can that even be?! He is the happiest, most expressive oh, the faces he makes! I'm in love with his curly hair and rosy round cheeks and the mischievous glint in his eyes. He has our hearts, this "Big Buddy" of ours, so beloved by all of us. He loves to give kisses, and then applaud right after. Today she is widely acknowledged as a master, if not the master, of the modern short story.

But there is a moment when that has to be dealt with. Interested in more? Subscribe to Angelus News to get daily articles sent to your inbox. You Might Also Like. Catholic LA. Flannery O'Connor: A writer of uncommon grace. Equiano actually seems the most grounded of the three.

Clarkson and Wilberforce are a little out there. Especially Clarkson. The thing that I learn from them is that maybe you have to be a little bit out there to take up the gauntlet of sharing the gospel as revealed in social issues as a life's calling. This I an relate to. You need to be an outcast to care about outcasts. The first time we came back from Haiti we were pretty strung out because we were overwhelmed with the magnitude of issues that God was revealing to us.

Among the myriad of issues were the children that we were ministering to. The unthinkable stories of abuse and torture that had fractured their personalities, and the presence of manifest demonic among them seemed insurmountable. I had arranged a meeting with a pastor that had visited Haiti and initially gave us advice in this realm.

He is like us and identifies with the outcasts. We sat down and talked with him and a guy that he is mentoring that had been to Haiti with him. We explained the things we were seeing and he seemed to understand experimentally all too well what we were explaining to him. I explained and he listened patiently. In the end he could have given us any myriad of morsels of advice that would have been significantly beneficial to our current circumstance. Instead, he chose one piece of advice that we are just now starting to grasp and put into practice three years later.

You have to bring some normalcy into your life. Go to movies, find a hobby, but don't get bogged down in this stuff and let it overwhelm you. That was basically all the advice from a seasoned saint on the same turf. I understand now how valuable that advice is. Our local library has tons of movies on the shelves and even more in the network that we can request. At least once a week now we can check out a movie. We're getting caught up and I am beginning to understand pop American culture a little better. I'm getting a vocabulary to converse.

Some of my favorites have been the Batman series with Christian Bale. I thought it was most interesting when he was formulating the symbol of the bat. He realized that he needed something that transcended himself and would strike fear in the heart of his enemies. This just happened to be the same fear that he had to overcome himself. I spent much time afraid as a child. I had a difficult time sleeping because of constant nightmares.

I remember the first time I really felt that not only did I not have to be afraid, but I was to be feared. I was in BUDs doing night surf passage. As our boat crew was paddling the boats in the dark I realized that we were the scariest thing out there. It was empowering and I never forgot it. As I thought about how these lessons applied to my life currently I wondered what the devil is most afraid of.

An Uncommon Grace

Angels in general are pretty scary things on their own. Good and bad angels are both scary in their own right and context. Specifically the Angel of the Lord as depicted in 2 Kings That night the angel of the LORD went out and put to death a hundred and eighty-five thousand men in the Assyrian camp. When the people got up the next morning-- there were all the dead bodies!

I have begun to learn about and use offensive prayers. We are told to submit to God and resist the devil in James A person that has been washed clean by the blood of Christ, adopted into the family by God the Father, and empowered by the Holy Spirit has been given authority to resist the devil.

This has to be the scariest thing that a person can be to our enemy. Someone that is aware of his schemes, filled with the Holy Spirit, and engages in active resistance against him. The night after watching Batman I felt empowered to live out my faith in an active resistance against the enemy. I was tired of taking his crap.

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I spent some time in prayer worshiping God, giving glory to His name, and asking to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I prayed against satan and his demons. I prayed that any demons that were actively engaged in harassing my family or I would be cut off from help from other demons.

I prayed that they would be tormented tenfold whatever they were trying to do to us. I prayed that satan and any demons that were in my presence would be blind, deaf, mute, and unable to touch my family or I. I told them I didn't want them here, and they were unwelcome intruders that had no place with my family or I.

An Uncommon Grace | Favourite Books and Authors | Amish books, Books, Novels

Then I commanded them to leave. I gave them no quarter. That night I had a strange dream. I have learned to distinguish normal dreams from dreams that are somehow connected to a spiritual battle. This was the latter. I dreamed that I was walking down a road in the dark. The moon was shining and there was mist all around. I was nearing a mailbox. When I got close to the mailbox someone came along and kicked it and it floated down the road.

When I got to the place where the mailbox landed there were two young twin ladies standing there. They had dark hair and fair skin and stood there glaring at me. I don't know how but somehow I knew who they were.

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When she said this she reached out to me and began to reach into my stomach. I felt pain and commanded her to stop in the name of Jesus. I was awakened by saying the name of Jesus out loud. There are many symbols that could be analyzed from the dream, but the point that I came away with was that my prayers had been effective and someone was mad. I went back to sleep satisfied that I had the upper hand. In addition to watching movies we have also taken up hobbies.

I guess skateboarding is the closest thing to normal that I can find to do at this phase of life. It is cheap and convenient compared to any of the other past hobbies I've tried. The first time I went to the skatepark here we started out as the only ones there. After a while a young man about 15 years old showed up. He started skating and was trying a trick on top of a ramp.