Don't Pull That Plug: The Intimacy of a Coma

By Terrell L. Clima

This is an amazing story of a woman whose husband has had a horrific accident. The resultant voyage begins in a situation similar to a Stygian hell; yet her faith transforms the situation, day by day, into a journey of hope and redemption. Terrells courage and love, along with her undying faith in God, allow her and her husband to heal and begin the long journey back to life and love. This account should be read by everyone who has had to deal with trauma, disappointment, and roadblocks in the journey of life. All those who have had to cope with addiction or have a loved one who has been an addict will also find hope and redemption in this wonderful account of overcoming unbeatable odds
Patti Weiss, PhD, psychologist specializing in troubled teens


Terrell has written a book that takes you from the depths of uncontrollable addiction and a near-death experience to the long road to recovery and the Lord. Anyone that knows a person going through brain-injury recovery must read this book! A story of faith, prayers, and true lovethe love of God!
Kim Allgrezza, freelance editor


For more information on traumatic brain injuries, please go to http://TBI.com, http://TBINET.org, and http://www.braininjury.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 18, 2009
• ISBN: 9781469115009

Terrell L. Clima

This is Ron and Terrell Clima and they would like to invite you into their journey, a journey that all began in February 2005, when Ron hit a tree on his motorcycle. Their journey is one that will take you to places they never thought they would go. They are telling it to hopefully help others who are put into the place they have come through, a place where you have to make the biggest decision of your life, to Pull or Not Pull that Plug. The Clima’s have only begun their journey – at three years post traumatic brain injury they are more excited than ever to watch the miracles unfold each and everyday. They feel blessed and hope you will too by sharing their story with them.

Book preview

Copyright © 2009 by Terrell L. Clima.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

51959

Contents

BETH AND LEE

This book is dedicated to all of the people who have

walked through our lives and left your footprints on our

heart.

We couldn’t have gotten to where we are without you.

This book is dedicated to all of those you have to walk this

journey with your loved one. It may be the hardest thing

you will ever have to do, but I promise you from the

bottom of my heart, you will never regret it.

We pray you will follow your heart and

listen to the whispers of Gods voice when

you are left in a position to give or to take a life.

Don’t pull that plug.

Please.

For more information on traumatic brain injuries, please go to http://TBI.com, http://TBINET.org, and http://www.braininjury.com

The day was February 7, 2005. It was a cool and foggy day in San Francisco as it usually is. I woke up in my Haight-Ashbury apartment as I had been doing for the past year or so, and I was ready to conquer the world, or so I thought.

My life was one of many chaotic mishaps, but this day felt different. I had been confused for many years as so many of us are, but this year had only added to my confusion. Eleven years or so before this date, I had fallen head over heels in love, for the first time in my life, which had been thirty-six years in the waiting. I had a few relationships in my life and even an ex-marriage, but they were all loveless relationships. I had learned the hard way at a very young age that love had way too high of a price, so at a very young age, I built myself a wall. A brick wall that protected me from feeling almost anything. I loved my two daughters, that was for sure; but everyone and everything else was at distance, far enough away to ensure they would never penetrate my brick wall.

Until that day in April 1995 when I saw Ron, he was a rebel, the kind of guy your mom warns you about. There was something about him my mind couldn’t let go of; we started a love affair soon after our meeting, and he tried everything he could to stay away from me. There was something different between us, something neither of us could explain; in fact, we spent the next several years trying to figure it out.

When I would ask Ron, Why do you love me? He would simply say, I don’t have a clue. I don’t question it. I just love you as much as I possibly could. Ron was a man that did anything and everything to not love anyone. He tended to run when he got too close to anything, and run he did, a lot. Ron had been hurt from people as a child; he felt abandoned by those he loved, and he swore no one would get into his heart; no one would ever make him feel alone or unloved again. When things started getting inside his heart, he tried to run. He told me, I let you in my heart, and now you want to rearrange all the furniture. You see, my husband worked very hard at keeping people far way from his emotions; and his heart was untouchable, until now.

I was so overwhelmed by this love stuff, I would just run with him or after him or behind him, but I never let go. How could you when you had finally found the love of your life after thirty-six years? I was also into listening to my heart/God, and I was being lead down this path of love. Many times, I fell off the path of right and followed the path of wrong. This was because that was the path where Ron had been running. The path to all the wrong places. I followed him to some pretty dark places. But thanks to the seed God had planted in my heart and soul, I was able to keep climbing out to the light when I knew things were way too wrong.

My heart was always right there with Ron no matter what, no matter where. He always told me no matter what, even if we were not together in the physical, no one could take away what we had in our hearts. I believed him.

We had many ups and downs in our relationship, and but I held on. I got closer and closer to God, and the more and more I knew God, the more I knew it was wrong for me to continue a relationship as Ron and I had without being married. I knew Ron was not into getting married; he had tried it once when he was very young and said he would never make that mistake again. I also knew I couldn’t live this way anymore, so I gave it a try and prayed really hard and told him I needed to be married, or I would have to move on. The funny part of that was he knew after six years, I wasn’t going anywhere; but to my amazement, he agreed. I knew it meant he really loved me, and for the first time in my life, I felt complete and loved, like I belonged to someone. I came from a very dysfunctional life, one where everyone was loaded. No one had a clue what love meant, no one ever wanted me, and no one ever really claimed me. I never even knew who my real father was, and the ones I thought were my father only wanted me only for their own sadistic pleasure. Now a man loved me, a man who made me love like I never knew possible. A man who let me trust him enough to give me his last name; he loved me enough to go against everything he believed and marry me and make me his wife. A woman with my own last name for the first time in my life. I would be proud of my name, and it would be mine. I still had the brick wall up, but I had made a secret door that allowed Ron in. And he loved me enough to really marry me. It couldn’t get much better than that.

We got married twice, once in our front room two months prior to our real wedding ceremony. Me in my work scrubs and Ron in his shorts, my pastor came to our home at the last minute and prayed with us and then married us right there in our front room. We drove to Sacramento afterward and had a little honeymoon. It was great, and I was the wife. I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. Our lives were basically the same except I felt closer to Ron, and he tried so hard to be a good husband. He got a job at a local tire company, and we had the perfect little life for a minute.

The time came when our planned wedding day itself arrived, and Ron was sick to his stomach. It was really the last place in the world he wanted to be. It was a lovely day, and all the birds showed up to sing for us. My soon-to-be husband (again) was lost in his world of getting way too close and wanting to run real bad. He couldn’t run now; he was there, and he had to stay.

Our wedding was on a lake at a bed-and-breakfast that had nine train cars all decorated differently; ours was the Orient Express. We rented them all so our family from out of town could each have their own train. It was magic just like a wedding day should be. I was the happiest bride on the planet. I had never owned a last name of my own, and I had never loved another person the way I loved this man; and on this date of September 16, I would be honored with a last name given to me in front of our friends and family by Ron’s free will, and I would wear it proudly.

The best part of this whole thing was when our friend and pastor Joe said to our guests, I would now like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Clima.

This was one of the best moments in my life. Right up there with the birth of my two daughters and my grandchildren. I truly felt blessed. I finally belonged with someone. I had never felt like I had fit in anywhere, and now I fit perfectly into my husband as his wife, a man I adored. No matter how long I was with Ron, I had butterflies every time he came near me. We had been together off and on for over five years when we got married, and he could still drop me to my knees by just walking in the room. He was surely the love of my life, the one God had planned for me. Ron told me, I don’t just love you, I am in love with you. Every pot has a cover that fits perfectly, and you are mine.

The years to come were filled with a lot of huge challenges, but we made it through with a few scraps and bruises, but still we made it. My love for my husband never faltered. When I said for better or worse, richer or poor, and in sickness and in health, I meant it. I didn’t take my marriage vows lightly, and my husband was having a really hard time trying to be a husband. He tried so hard, but he couldn’t part with who he had become over the years.

Many times, I felt bad for trying to make him be someone we always knew he couldn’t be. He fell deeper and deeper into his addiction, and it always pulled him further and further away from me. I was no stranger to addiction; it was a disease I fought my whole life or since I was twelve years of age anyway.

I came from a really sick family full of addiction for generations and lost most of my most precious things to addiction—including my two special brothers, one at thirty-three and the other at forty-three. That is a loss you can never get over. I feel the hurt so badly as I write this. I feel the tears start to run down my cheeks.

I loved my husband so much, he frequently blinded me to what was right and what was wrong. As God put His hand on my heart more and more, I had to finally listen to God’s final words and walk away from my husband and that life and let God fix things. Wow, what a concept that would be… I had for years walked through the doors of Narcotics Anonymous’s (NA) twelve-step meetings.

I read the words over and over again but never really heard them turn it over. I thought I had given to God each time I cried out for Him to fix this mess, but in the back of my head, I always knew my husband was one thing I just couldn’t seem to let go of. He was mine, the first time I loved any man; and he made me complete, completely crazy. I could let go of him. I thought somehow I could fix him. I couldn’t even fix myself; how could I fix anyone else?

I had to let go of him at the beginning of our relationship. Ron went to prison for drug charges seven months after we were living together. God told me to back up and walk away for one year. He told me if it was meant to be, He would take care of it. I trusted God, and I did. I wrote Ron every day, and he read them every day, but I didn’t see him or talk to him for the stated year.

On that exact day, one year later, as God had said, I went to the prison that Ron was in. When I got there with my knees a-shaking, they told me I couldn’t visit him. They told me I was denied because I had an old charge on my record. I, without hesitation, told them this was impossible. God had promised. I asked to speak to the warden, and they actually got him. The warden came out and told me unless I had the original paperwork from the court case saying it was dismissed, I couldn’t come in.

It was at that very moment I knew God was in charge, and Ron was meant to be mine because early that day, someone called my home; and I had to write down a phone number, so I quickly reached into my file cabinet and pulled out a random piece of paper to write on. That paper just happened to be the exact form the warden had asked for. I didn’t remember ever even getting that piece of paper, but God did. I pulled it from my purse with tears streaming down my face; no one understood why the tears were there, but I felt a joy I couldn’t explain. I was confronted with the huge power of God and how awesome He was to take such good care of me. To know God had that much power and that He allowed me to see Ron that promised day signifies that he meant what he had said, and it was meant to be.

I rode proudly down the hill in the prison bus and walked with my head held high into that very large and scary building knowing God had my back. I stood there waiting for Ron to come through the door with a huge look of surprise, but he didn’t. He walked up to me, and he gave me a huge hug; and in his eyes, I saw something I had so longed for—love! When I asked, Aren’t you surprised to see me? he simply said, I knew you’d be here. It’s been one year, and you always do what you say. During our visit, Ron told me I made a huge impact on his life as no one else had ever done; he said I always kept my word no matter what, and I was always 100 percent faithful to him, and I never abandoned him.

Now it was years later, and our lives and our marriage had gone through many ups and downs and rounds and rounds, and God was telling me to back off again and let Him fix the mess we had gotten ourselves into. God said, Terrell, you have been trying to fix this mess for a long time, and all you seem to do is get caught up in all the ugly. He told me to back off once again for a year and let him fix things. Ron is my son. I made him, and I know his woes. It is only through Me it will get better. God told me to leave Ron with Him and to go fix my own life, and He would bring Ron back when He was done with him.

So after getting caught up in that ugly world one last time, kidding myself, thinking I was stronger than the hold the devil had on my husband or me anytime I went around it, I went back for one last taste; and it was very ugly. I knew it was the bottom I guess I had to hit to know it wasn’t me or my life, and I could never again go back there to the evil it all carried. My tears fell hard, and the rain poured out over my lost and lonely face. I stood there using every bit of faith I had to tell my husband I had to go! I had to leave. I had to be done. I tried hard to tell him it wasn’t him I was leaving; it was the addiction and all the ugliness it brought with it. Ron looked at me with eyes I didn’t even know; it had seemed the devil had taken over in the middle of all the chaos. My husband’s soul would peek through for brief moments, but it wasn’t him anymore; it was surely the devil. I had to listen hard over and over and over again to God. I will fix this for you! It is only through Me that we will get him back! Leave and do not look back. This is My place to be, not yours!

I felt so all alone; this man was supposed to be my life. God had made us one flesh, and now here I stood, being told to leave him and let someone else take care of him. I knew God had the power to do it. I just had such a hard time letting go. Fighting back the oceans of tears, I drove away in my old beat-up van; it was really all I had left to my life. How could my life had gotten to this place so fast, again? I was driving away with my knees shaking and my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. I was lost in a place of uncertainty, and I didn’t like it one bit. It had been eleven years since I made this man my world; how could I just drive away and not look back? This time, I was giving it to God. I had screwed up way too many times. I had to let go and put 150 percent of my trust into God, for it was only through Him that I was going to make it through this. My world was there in Ron’s heart, and I had to believe he couldn’t get me out. He wouldn’t just forget about me. I couldn’t imagine my life without him no matter how bad it had gotten. I knew through my faith and past experiences with God that this was in no way a goodbye; it was truly a new beginning. I told him as I left, I will see you in a while, baby, as soon as God brings us back together. I told him I will only be a phone call away, always.

I needed him to know I was in no way leaving him. Abandonment was always such an issue for him. I didn’t want him to think I would or could ever do that to him. I made sure he knew I was only taking a step back to let God do His work. To tell this to a man who was covered with the dust of the devil was rather interesting, but I said it anyway knowing that some of it would seep into my husband’s soul. As I was driving up that dirty old mountain, I had to keep telling myself I couldn’t change things—only God could.

The definition of insanity was trying to do the same things over and over again and expecting different results, so I must’ve been as insane as they come. It had to be the time to let go; it had to be the time to leave it to God. If I didn’t, we would all lose.

It was in God’s hands…

The next year, I went on with life one day at a time. At first, I wanted to die and be the victim and tell myself I couldn’t do it without him. The thought of him with other women and being driven by the devil really wanted to take up residency in my fragile recovering drug addict mind…

So each day, I got on my knees and told God to lead me; minute by minute, I pulled myself out of the blackness. I saw a light at the end of the dark tunnel. The light was faith, and that made it easier. I was broken and homeless sleeping on people’s couches and once even sleeping in my van. I stood alone, and it wasn’t the first time we had lost everything. It was just this time, I walked away alone, very alone. My daughters had their lives, and I seemed to have no one or nothing. The loss of everything was more intense than I had felt since I was a little girl. It almost felt like living in hell with my husband was better than living without him at all.

Again, down on my knees came frequently at this time in my life. I had to hear God’s words and His promise that He would take care of this for me. God would bring mine and Ron’s life to a place of certainty, a place of no drugs and insanity. Once again, it was all gone. I was standing all alone, and I felt terrified. I wanted to run and find Ron; no matter what, I needed him. God’s voice won out and told me loud and clear, Leave him alone. I need to fix him My way. I was to stop whining and start working on myself. I was to fix things on my end. Get myself together physically, mentally, and spiritually; and then and only then would our lives be OK.

I knew I had to listen. I had tried way too many times to fix us. I was feeling I was getting in the way of God’s plan, so I backed up and pulled myself up. I stopped feeling sorry for myself and started feeling grateful for my relationship with God and my ability to hear His voice within my heart. I stood up tall and brushed myself off and looked up to the stars and said, OK, God, I am ready. Let’s rock! I found an apartment with my oldest daughter, which was way cool since I had not lived with or been around her much since she was seventeen. My two daughters and my grandson were my true lifesavers through this whole thing. My daughter and I ended up with a train car-type apartment in the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco. It was a very strange place, and I knew it wasn’t going to ever be a home, but it was a place to rest our heads at night. I had never really been without a home before, and I have to tell you, I didn’t like it. I never wanted to be put in that place again. To be standing alone was bad enough, but to stand alone and have nowhere to go, no place I really belonged to.

It caused a lot of panic from the inside out. So I was more than grateful to God for giving us this place to live. We had no furniture to speak of, so the house was bare; and every time I wanted to get something or even hang a picture, my lovely daughter disagreed. So our home stayed pretty bare and cold. My unemployment was about to run out; and there I was, moving into an apartment in one of the most expensive cities in the world, San Francisco.

I needed a job! So off I went in a hunt for work. I was getting clean and sober again, I was walking away from my husband, I was living each day by 100 percent faith in God’s ability to make all things right. As I let go, all things were falling into place, and it felt very good. It was all falling into place because I was allowing God to run the show, the entire show—not 90 percent or even 98 percent. This time, I had given it all to Him 100 percent.

I was never far from my husband within my heart. I lit candles daily and said prayers several times a day for his salvation. I wanted more than anything to know that the devil had lost his control over him and me and that God was leading our way. Even more, I wanted him to come home. I just wanted him to be free from the devil. I needed to know that if Ron was to leave this world, it would be into heaven and never would he have to spend eternity in hell, and that’s where he was heading.

Not a day went by that I didn’t plead with God to make Ron OK.

God found me a very interesting job, a job I would’ve never came up with for myself. My younger daughter, who is also a nurse, and I went for a walk around my new apartment. As we strolled by a nearby hospital, we went in through the back door, and there on the wall was a list of job openings. Right there in front of my face was the job I thought to be perfect for my daughter. Adolescent psychiatric nursing. I didn’t even think about it being the perfect job for me until the interview. The interview went very well for the both of us, but my daughter decided it wasn’t a job for her, and I decided to follow God’s lead. I felt very blessed to have a new job at a hospital that had a stated mission to carrying on the loving ministry of Jesus Christ. Since God is my boss, this seemed perfect.

I would also be able to walk to work, and I would be working with teenage psychiatric patients. This was great. I raised teenagers who all went through their own crazy times, and I personally was a very screwed-up teenager. This job was made for me. I had always thought God put us through our trials to be able to share them with others as the need arises. I had been through a lot of pain in my life, and now I was put into a space where I could share my pain and my success with others. I was never a victim. I was always a survivor; and I could, by the grace of God, be able to share that in this new job. Perfect.

I had sold my beat-up van, so walking was a good thing. The parking in San Francisco was more than horrible. I had grown up in the city of San Jose, but the parking was never an issue. Then I moved away to the country, and parking was just parking; you never had to think about it—you just did it. Not true in this crazy city; parking became a nightmare for the person with a car. The city thrived on parking tickets, and when you got enough of them, they would book your car. That was a large metal circle that fit on to your tire, making it impossible for you to drive away. Until you went and paid all your tickets, you were stuck; and with each minute you were stuck, they would give you more and more tickets. My poor daughter whom I was living with found herself prey to the city and paid thousands in boots and tickets.

Over the next year, I had a dream over and over again. I can’t really call it a dream, for it came in my head while I was awake or asleep. It was just a thing I knew and saw frequently, like a vision. The vision was my husband, and he was on a motorcycle in the dark; he was driving on a mountain road, and he saw a cop. He sped up, and when he went around a corner, he slid sideways into a tree on his left side. My dream or vision also showed him walking with a walker and looking over at me, saying my name as if everything was OK.

I left messages frequently for my husband at numerous places he had been staying, and he never replied; even when I talked to him on the phone and tried to tell him myself, he just wouldn’t hear me. I sent letters and insurance cards to our friends, telling them to tell him. He was told about my vision. He made mention to some friends about the times in our lives that I saw or knew things that were going to happen, and they did. He felt it was a little scary. Scary or not, I had seen things over the years concerning him, and he should know they were real. So I am not sure why he wasn’t listening to this one, or perhaps he heard it but didn’t care. His life was at a point of self-destruction at the time, and he didn’t know how to get out.

My life continued with God reminding me frequently to let Him do his work. The memory of the first time God told me to leave Ron alone for one year kept coming back into my mind frequently; this helped me to be strong and keep moving up the hill. Knowing God’s power and how He always keeps His word helped reassure me. God always came through on His word to me over the years. Sometimes, I didn’t choose to hear it; and other times, my mind was too altered or too busy to hear it. But this time, I was looking to hear it at all times, with 100 percent clarity and eagerness. When I pushed and pushed God for a date, He reminded me of the promise of one year. I was sure January 28, 2005, would be the day of wakening, for that would be the one-year mark.

With faith, I just knew on or about that day, I would see my husband again; and God would be complete in His work on him. God would have fixed it all, for He never breaks a promise.

The following days, weeks, and months didn’t go by as fast as I would’ve liked; but again, it was in God’s time, not mine. I worked on myself, which was a different concept. I walked a lot. I loved walking and checking out all the wonderful old buildings that line the streets of San Francisco. The people were as interesting as the buildings. I went to Curves five to six days a week and got my body in shape, and I went to church as much as possible. I knew I needed to work on the inside even more than the outside, and I did. I had pray time with God throughout the day, every day. He had become my very best friend.

As the day came closer to the promised year, my dream/vision came more and more frequent. I packed up my favorite little man/grandson, and we drove up to the town where my husband had been staying and causing much havoc. He left his medical insurance card and asked for it to be given to him ASAP. We had been truly blessed with great medical insurance at my job.

The morning of January 28 came, and I was ready for the big miracle to just happen: my husband would appear, and everything would be all better. I wasn’t sure how this miracle was going to come about; you see, my husband and I had talked a few weeks before on the phone, and his words and actions were still that of the addict who was still in the world of the devil. I could hear he loved and missed me. I could also hear that his soul was still very trapped under all the darkness and evil of the devil. How could this disappear all of a sudden and, poof, everything be all right?

There were times in our relationship when my husband was clean and his mind was clear; these times came mostly when he was incarcerated. When he was behind bars, he saw how his addiction was killing every good thing in his life and how much he wanted to do things differently.

Some of our best times were behind the gates of some prison. Many of our years were given to the prison system, and things were always wonderful for a little while after Ron was released. It was never long that in the heat of the night, the disease of addiction peeked its head back out; and poof, there went my husband again. It was surely a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing. I could actually see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; it was scary.

How would this time be different from the times he went to prison or the times he just ran to his friends in the mountains? I was no saint. Many times, I went down the wrong path; many times, Ron took me down that horrible path with him. I can’t blame him or anyone for my choices. I have been an addict my whole life, and I needed to remember that every day. I would do wonderful while my husband was in prison.

I would be clean, and I would go back to college and get another degree. I have several degrees. I would try to prove myself to my husband and to the rest of world. I would think I had it all under control; nothing could rock my boat, and then my love would get home. Life would be perfect for about a minute, and then I would see him get restless, and his behavior would change, and then he would run or get me to get loaded with him. If he got me to use, then he would be able to use also. It was always back to the place of sin, a place where there was no rules. You could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, and to whomever you wanted—and he did.

I loved my husband more than words could say. I knew the things he did when he ran and used, but I knew it wasn’t him; it was the drugs. I also knew if I kept going around him and that world, I too would keep falling.

I wasn’t made to be that person. I never really fit into that world. I didn’t fit into any part of the crazy world I had been led to.

This time was different; it had been a whole year. I had talked to Ron a few times over that past year, and it broke my heart each time because he had never been that self-destructive before in his life. I saw him once in that year, and he told me he’d never stop loving me; he said he really tried hard to not love me. He asked me why I married him when I knew he had no compassion. He said he tried to be the man or husband he was supposed to be, but he just couldn’t be that guy. His eyes looked sad at first as he told me he would always love me; he also said I lied to him. I asked him, When? He looked at me and said, You know! After that, his eyes grew cold and dark, and he said something mean about Jesus and sped away on his motorcycle up the hill into the dust. I thought about that lie for a long time. I never lied or cheated on my husband ever. I was very faithful and honorable to my marriage. I couldn’t look at another man if I tried. The only thing I can think of what he meant was I told him I would never leave him nor abandon him.

That’s what he thought I was doing. If he could’ve only realized what it was I was doing and how hard it was to do. I wasn’t leaving him. I was doing the only thing I knew how to save him from a life in hell. I wanted so bad to hold him and fix him; but I remembered how many times I tried to fix him, to fix me, and to fix us, and how many times I failed. This time, it had to be through God, or it would never be. I had faith way bigger than a mustard seed. I knew God kept his promise before, and He surely would again.

Over the year, I prayed more than I ever knew possible. I had every person I knew and every church denomination I could find praying for Ron, yet here my year was up; and he still sounded like he was the same man in the middle of his addiction, still working for the devil. God, what is going on? My mind kept racing with this thought. Thank God my faith was strong. I had made a lot of growth over the past year. I had done everything I possibly could to be whole from the inside out. I was clean and sober and didn’t smoke cigarettes, and I went to Curves to exercise five to six days a week to keep my body fit. I was attending churches to keep my spirit and soul right, and I was working a lot and making great money. I had done it, and I did it through the voice of God leading me. How could this day be coming, and there had been no changes in Ron? This was a huge miracle I knew, but my faith kept telling me to get ready because God never breaks His promise.

January 28 came and went…

I cried a lot on that January day, feeling let down by myself for thinking that God would bless me with this miracle. Letting the devil slip his tool of doubt into my life for a quick second. I need you to know that I wasn’t paying very close attention to the many things God was showing me. God was letting me know to trust, always trust, and in His time. It is in God’s timing, and His timing is perfect, not mine! My flesh voice, the one that always gets me in trouble, was telling me all negative things. Perhaps it wasn’t in God’s will this time; perhaps I wasn’t hearing God’s voice all this time. Maybe it was just my sick brain tricking me. I stopped running the devil’s doubt through my brain, and I picked myself up and held on to the cross that I always wore around my neck and told the devil to take a hike. God would do as He said, in his way on his day.

I wasn’t really paying too much attention to my life, or I surely would’ve seen that God was in charge and that He had been getting things ready this whole time. My life had been changing drastically over the weeks prior to this time. I had been in the open-minded mode this whole year, letting God run the show. I was just following His lead. God had led me from the funky little apartment we had been renting to a flat. A two-bedroom-home-type place with a fireplace, a backyard, and a garage with a washer and dryer of my own.

These two things were very positive to me; you see,