The reason for the season...

I believe in Christ as my Savior.  For many years, I didn't remember my childhood.  Deep inside I have always remembered believing in Christ.  Despair wrapped its tentacles around my heart in my early 30s.  The darkness on my soul seemed to blind me from all things except the spreading despair.  It was in this retched state that I curled up and prayed for death.  In my mind, I heard, "No."  I was responsible for 6 little kids while my DH was on the road working.  I begged to know what I needed to do.  Bit by bit, information came to me through reading that taught me how to keep going.  Prayer became my way to guide my study.  I regained some of my physical health but depression dogged me most of the time.  I called it my Shadow warrior, striking me down but never quite killing me.  I wondered if I had enough faith to overcome this trial.  I kept studying and learning until I had a half life.  I slammed to rock bottom yet again.  I prayed for answers and was led to KavinCoach.  I kept looking for answers outside myself KavinCoach directed my search to inside my broken heart.  I didn't even know the damage was there.  We had many discussions on Christ being the Master healer.  I visualized myself in dark, cold, murky water that closed over my head.  I was so exhausted I could barely look up.  I saw above the darkness a hand stretched out to me in the water.  I looked up further and pleaded with my eyes that I be rescued.  I found myself pulled up on the bank.  Then slowly I was encouraged to move farther and farther from the dark engulfing waters.  So many artists paint Christ pristine and tidy and a bit removed from the picture.   My picture is of Him grasping me by the shoulders and hauling me to safety.  He cared not at all what damage was done to Him.  He was on a rescue mission for one of His that had only sufficient faith to plead with my eyes.  He set me on the path to recovery.  I would stumble and He would be there.  I would sit down discouraged and He would continue to tug at me.  I get up again and again and again.  I was willing to follow but my strength was gone and my body and mind battered by things I barely remembered.  Integration occurred and emotions were reignited.  Like poorly used limbs the painful coming back to full feeling.  Numbness protected me but hindered me.  This past year I have studied Christ's teachings on emotion.  The shortest scripture John 11:35 "Jesus wept."  He felt strongly.  It didn't say He was sad or a little discouraged but the intensity of His emotion was physically expressed by weeping.  I feel and sense that when Christ pulled me from the murky darkness He wept.  Not because of anything I had done but for what I had suffered because of the choices of someone else.  He led me to where I could be healed.  He knew the necessity of rebuilding my strength and my belief in myself.  He understood my fears and led me at the pace I could go, too fast and I would stumble and fall.  He understood pain.  He understood suffering.  He understood betrayal.  He understood rejection.  Not one problem, fear, or feeling eluded His understanding.  I brought to Him my broken heart and He healed me in ways that I didn't even know needed to be done.  Not all at once.  Christ didn't try to rush me faster than I was able.  He taught me to feel peace.  He opened opportunities to feel love.  He prepared me to feel joy.  My journey is not over.  I understand the process of bringing to Christ a broken heart.  My heart was broken and He healed the hidden wounds.  He cares about how I feel.  He desires that I feel His peace and joy.  Not a little happy, not feeling good but the dizzying height of Joy.  He caused the blind to see.  He healed the halt and maimed.  He healed bodies and my soul.     

My Angel sent these to me:

Hi Ruth
 
I am sending you two of my favourite pictures from a children's bible I was 
presented with when I attended Sunday school in the late fifties.
 
Happy Christmas