Empower Ourselves with God
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She also talked about faith, and the miracles that can and will manifest into your lives even if you have one even as small as a mustard seed.
She talked about her own struggles with faith, and her disobedience to God's commands, and the power of love and forgiveness.
She also encourages you about parenting, and the magnificent work of the earth-angels that God send into our lives.
This book will teach you how to trust and obey God's commands, how to love, pray, when to pray and what to pray for, knowing that God is able to handle the impossible and he's bold enough to carry your troubles if you turn it over to him.
She talked about how to let go and let God and why it is important to build our own personal relationship with him.
Tracy-Ann Tracy-Ann
Tracy-Ann Latoya Lewis, was born on October 24, 1985 in the Parish of Westmoreland Jamaica, to Parents Dennis Lewis and Merverlyn Barrett. She was raised by her father and Grandmother Theresa Turner and her Two Aunts Karen Smith and Sharon Beckford. They had nurtured, cared and protected her during the absence of her mother. She then moved to the United States in the year 1999 to live with her mother, two sisters and her brother where she later attended Weaver High School and graduated in the year 2003. Tracy-Ann is now living in Connecticut with her Husband and their five-year-old son Christopher Martin JR. Tracy-Ann is not only enjoying her life and her son but she is also a part of the Church Community and has fallen in love with God. She is now walking in the light of God, but she will continue to entertain her fans with her work by sharing her relationship and her experience with God.
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Empower Ourselves with God - Tracy-Ann Tracy-Ann
Empower Ourselves
with God
SKU-000582535_TEXT.pdfTracy-Ann Lewis
US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.aiAuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2012 by Tracy-Ann Lewis. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 07/06/2012
ISBN: 978-1-4772-2494-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4772-2493-9 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4772-2492-2 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012911127
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Tracy-Ann Lewis is also the author of:
I still love him
&
Stolen away from happiness.
Chapter 1
SKU-000582535_TEXT.pdfIntroduction to God
Though I’m not a Christian seeing me today and the type of woman I’ve turned out to be, you wouldn’t believe me if I were to tell you that my grandmother used to have to spank me to go to church and when I was getting tired of that I found excuses, some of the most common ones, like, my belly hurt or I am over tired.
From doing what?
my grandmother would ask me, and would often and politely told me, that church is the best place to be whenever you’re sick. Being eight and disobedient, that was the last thing I wanted to hear, but I couldn’t argue with her because comes sun or rain I was going to church no ifs, buts or maybes. The sad part about it was that it took me a while to realize it.
My grandmother, father, and two aunts raised me, when my mother moved to the Unites States to live with her father. I was only two years old when she left and my brother Steven had just turned one. Our grandmother gladly opened her arms to us and treated us as if she was the one that carried us for nine months and endured the pain of giving birth to us. Up to this day I thank God for her wisdom, her guidance and the courage to take care of us as well as our father, who is my personal hero and the prefect example of how a father should be.
Though we spent most of our time with our grandmother, this was because our dad had to work so that he could provide money to maintain us during school, for us to have new uniforms, books and other things to return to school at the beginning of the school year and during the year, he would visit us at our grandmother most evening after work and he would be sure that our holidays and weekends were spent with him unless we chose differently, which I normally did because I found his home boring. At Mama, I had my aunts and my cousins to play around with and tell stories, some were true and some we made up, either way, at that age, we had fun and that was all that mattered.
For as long as I can remember or understood, my grandmother, has been a Christian woman of strong faith In God. I don’t remember the first church that I had attended with her; the one that I remember is the one that I’d almost gotten saved in at about the age of nine going on ten. We’d just moved to Shrewsbury Housing Scheme from the Community of Petersfield, and my grandmother’s main interest was to find a church, which she did through our new neighbor Sister Sharon. I overheard them talking at the fence line between the two houses, Sister Sharon told her that the church was located about ten minutes walk away and that she was looking forward to walking there with her Sunday Morning.
The looked on her face was priceless! She was happy and I could tell that she could hardly wait for Sunday morning to arrive, and when it did, she woke me up bright and early to come and eat breakfast and get ready for church. I was passed pissed.
Why do I have to go to church everyday?
I asked her, frowning and carrying on like a spoilt brat.
You have to go to church Tracy-Ann, God don’t like disobedience and you’re displaying just that. You need to thank God for what he had done for you and what he is doing and about to do for you,
she told me. Sounding like a broken record, I never understood any of it. Thank God! Who is God? I would ask myself, I’d never seen him; he never spoke to me so who is this person that I’m going to church to sing for, to pray to. I didn’t know that I was worshiping him or praising him those two words were unknown to me. After crying my eyes out simple because I didn’t want to go to church my grandmother got me dressed and asked one of my Aunts to comb my hair.
Why you can’t give her a break from church today?
my aunt asked her after I sat in front of her for her to do my hair while Mama got dressed in her bedroom.
Shut your mouth, it’s none of your business. I said she’s going to church, she could cry blood she is going. I can’t tell you what to do with your life because it’s too late now but Tracy-Ann will do what I tell her to do and that’s going to church this morning whether she like it or not,
she told my Aunt, hearing that made me cried even more. I hate this house, I’m going to go and live with my father and never come back here, why mummy have to leave us? These thoughts and questions would go through my mind each Sunday mornings when I had to get dressed for church while I cried.
Sometimes I would believe that she hated me because my brother didn’t have to go to church as often as I did neither my Aunts kids. After finally walking to church with Sister Sharon, I met her daughter who was a bit younger than I was and she made the walk interesting by talking and running jokes while Mama and Sister Sharon talk about what they would call grown folks business
. All I remember hearing was when Sister Shoran asked her if she had ever been to a (Pentecostal Church) before and Mama said no, I was with (Church of God) down at Amity.
She told her, I guess that was the first church I attended but was too young to remember any encounter with them, all I remember was the fact that I hated going to church.
Soon as we turned on the street where this (Pentecostal church) was located I remember hearing singing and shouting and praising the Lord and my grandmother’s face lit up like Christmas tree on Christmas Eve night. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that serious but I held my tongue because I didn’t want her to slap me across my face and shame me in front of our new neighbors, which she would had gladly done. I didn’t understood how is it possible for one person to love Church and this mysterious person that they called God so much.
Soon as we went into the church sister Sharon sat her baby down and introduced us to her friends and shortly after, the pastor, came over and introduced himself, shook our hands and welcomed us. I can’t remember his name but he was a very tall man, thick built body and had a very deep voice. Sister Sharon told us that we could sit anywhere we like and instead of taking a seat with her, Mama found a seat over on the right side of the Church in the third row closer to the alter.
Mama, can I sit over there with Sister Sharon and Raquel,
I asked her.
No, you’ll sit here with me. It’s closer to the word of God and as new members we need to show that we are no stranger to the Lord,
she replied. Again, I was pissed. I poked my mouth out to show my feelings, folded my hands and threw myself down in the seat, which became our permanent seat every Sunday until we left.
If you don’t want me to shame you this morning little girl you need to cut it,
she warned me. I unfolded my hands, straighten out my dress and sat up in my seat. I was afraid of her because when she spoke she meant business and she made it known that she wasn’t afraid to scold us in public and I knew it but still sometimes I showed up myself as if I forgot my place or who I was dealing with. Shortly after we got settled the pastor went up on introduced us to the congregation and they all came over, shook our hands and welcomed us. That Sunday wasn’t so bad because Raquel came over and we laughed and talked about whose stockings got holes in them and whose shoe heals were lean or walked down. After all, at that age what else was there to talk about? I never understood what the pastor was preaching about and I was too ignorant to learn.
The following Sunday went on to be just about the same as the last one, nothing excited happened people sang, shouted, clapped their hands and carried on, while Raquel and I found things of our own to entertained ourselves with until church was over and it was time for us to go home. That continued until I believe it was the fourth Sunday when I went to Sunday school for the first time and realized that Sister Sharon’s son Miguel hosted it, clearly! I was taller than he was only to found out he was about two years older.
How can someone so young be an assistant Sunday school teacher and sometimes take the lead role when Sister Natalie is away on vacations? I came out of my comfort zone and asked him one day.
Because I know the bible and God is talking through me,
he told me proudly.
God is speaking through you?
I asked him with a disbelieved looked on my face. I wanted to laugh out loud and told him that he’s full of crap but for some reason I didn’t. Instead I asked him, who is this God person that he’s talking about and that my Grandmother is so in love with? And every other student in the class turned and looked at me as if I was the world’s dumbest person. What I was hoping to gain from that question even though I really didn’t knew who God was, was to make him looked foolish and to make everyone believe that he was telling them false stories. Clearly that didn’t go the way I intended.
I’ll come over to your house after church and tell you who my God is,
he replied. With that said I was looking forward to it. I was ready to know about this God that everyone was so enthusiastic about and for the other reason I wanted to be in the company of Miguel, for one, I liked him. I liked the young man that he was, who wouldn’t? Everyone respected him, he was funny, he dressed nice, he played the drum for the church, from what I heard he was bright in school, he listened and respected his parents and took care of his sisters when Sister Sharon and his father wasn’t home.
Deep down inside I wanted to be like him, not that I was a bad child, I was disobedient and my lack of knowledge to who God is along with my own thoughts hindered me from being as good as Miguel was.
So that Sunday evening he had came over as he had said he would and Mama didn’t have a problem because of the kind of young man that he was, frankly, she loved the idea because we were going to read the bible, he was going to tell me what he knew about God. With him that evening he brought his bible and we sat under the Ackee tree in my back yard. He told me to open up the bible to the book and Genesis and read (verse 1). I did as he said and I read it.
It clearly said: (in the beginning God created the heaven and the earth).
Now you know who created the heaven and the earth, he told me. Didn’t I know that? I asked myself. At that point I didn’t, but I should because for one, I grew up in church and I knew that my Grandmother must have told me once, maybe twice or possible more, but truth be told I wasn’t listening. I went to church because I didn’t have a choice and everything that was taught to me about God I missed it or I purposely tuned it out.
Move on to verses 7
: he said.
And it read, "And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man become a living soul." Let me tell you readers, that I froze in that very spot, lets give God thanks
, I remember my grandmother always told me and I would asked myself, for what? How about for creating me, something told me that Sunday evening.
"Let’s move on to verse 21: he said, and it read.
And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fell upon Adam and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof: (verse 22): and the rib, which the Lord God taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her onto the man.
(Verse 23): Adam said: This is now bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh: she shall be called woman, because she was taken out of man." He spent a little more time with me explaining how God created us, the heaven and the earth, the trees, the beasts and the birds in the sky. On that day I found out who God is and so my interest grew. I wanted to know more about him and the only way to do that was to connect myself with him; so everyday after that one I went to church. My Grandmother didn’t have to wake me up anymore or listen to me murmuring about not going to church or asked her why I have to. I got up, ate my breakfast and with my little blue bible in my hand I was off to Sunday school to listen Miguel spoke of him and what he had done for him. Now he was studying to take his final exams to move on to high school and with God by his side he shall pass them all to go to Manning’s High School, It was and still is the most prominent high school in that parish and it was every child’s dream to be accepted and enrolled there. Their parents would be proud of them and they would be proud to wear the uniform that represents that noble institution and I was among those students who wish to do just that.
He did succeed in his exams and went on to attend Manning’s High, I remember how proud Sister Sharon was of him and how happy Mama was. She turned to me and told me that if I believe in the Lord that one day that could be me. Now I wasn’t only going to Sunday school and Sunday services, I was going to bible studies, prayer meetings, and youth services with Miguel and old folk’s services with Mama. Once the church hall was opened and something was going on there, I was there, not because I wanted to go