He Dances With Me

By Sheavaun Gales

Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way we planned, and we start to feel so out of control we panic, wondering how we're ever going to get off this crazy merry-go-round... and what we really need is a lifeline, a glimmer of hope that it won't always be this way. That it can get better.

I know exactly what that feels like. Trying to cope with the death of my infant son, the birth of my daughter with special needs, and a tumultuous marriage, I was convinced that they were all my fault, which in turn caused me to feel like I was on the crazy-train headed nowhere fast. I was angry, guilty, fearful, and lonely. I didn't know how to even begin to approach God, what with feeling torn between wishing for something more out of life, and the apprehension that He would take away anything good from me because I just didn't deserve it.

This is the story of my search for hope in the midst of despair, and I hope you not only catch a glimpse of yourself in it, but will also be able to recognize the whisper of the One who showed up to offer me more, calling me His Beloved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sheavaun Gales
• Release date: Oct 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301628667

Sheavaun Gales

Sheavaun Gales is a mom who loves her new-found freedom. As a former slave to time and fear due to trying to balance life with 3 children (one with special needs), a rocky marriage, broken dreams, guilt, and an inaccurate view of God, she uses social media to convey the message that feeling stuck in life doesn't have to be the norm. Sheavaun writes about personal stories and the unwavering belief that there is a big God who loves us individually and passionately, calling us to step closer to who He created us to be. Sheavaun is passionate about living a full life, and the importance of being happy, healthy, beautiful, and true to who God created us to be. Absolutely.

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He Dances With Me

By Sheavaun Gales

Copyright 2013 by Sheavaun Gales

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Introduction

We’ve all had those moments of disbelief where we think: "this is the kind of stuff that happens to other people." The feeling doesn’t exactly foster anything warm and cozy or a sense of value. No, it's all about survival, and it is comforting and encouraging to know that we’re not the only ones in the midst of it.

I lived for years in survival mode. Growing up in a nice, middle class home as a classic Daddy's girl I didn’t have to worry about much, so when I married and began to have children of my own, the concept of struggling was foreign to me. When I first learned of my Dad’s prostate cancer while I was in my mid-twenties, I distinctly remember thinking that this was exactly the kind of thing I’d heard stories about, and was shocked it was occurring within my personal circle. I had no idea things could get worse.

In relaying part of my story my hope is that you will be able to see some of yourself in it; not because I think I’m a great storyteller, but because I have learned that there is value in sharing our stories since we tend to see ourselves in each other. More than that, I hope that you will recognize my Rescuer, and be encouraged by what I have learned about Him, as well as myself, along the way. And maybe, just maybe, you will find the courage to look at your own life as a story, and be willing to share it with someone, too.

Chapter One

I was 25 years old, pregnant with our second child, and very uncomfortable. The sleepless nights and the fact that I couldn’t walk any farther than half a block or stand upright long enough to wash the dishes wasn’t enough to make me run to my doctor and whine. I had tried to tell her in my last appointment that things weren’t feeling right, but she dismissed my concerns with a flick of her hand, stating that it was probably going to be a boy this time around, so who was I to question? It wasn’t until my mother-in-law practically begged me to get a second opinion from her doctor that I finally relented, and found myself in tears as I tried to explain what was going on. By the end of that fateful day I was in the hospital on total bed-rest.

I’ve heard a doctor say recently that HELLP syndrome is a name for a condition that they don’t really know much about, but at the time I was told I had a very elevated form of toxemia which put my, and my baby’s, life at risk. No wonder I couldn’t stand or lie down for very long, my liver was freaking out. My kidneys were overloaded. I was toxic. There was something wrong with me.

After a couple of weeks of enduring early morning blood tests, frequent doctor visits, and missing my nearly-2-year old daughter intensely, I engaged in light banter with my favorite nurse while she squeezed cold gel on my tummy and ran the wand over-top of my baby’s form. There was a bit of a flurry around me that morning because my enzymes had come back even higher than normal, and my platelets were off. The attending doctor poked his head in to check on me, and after a brief chat