Don't Take God Lightly

By Alice Lightly

Hopefully, this book will reveal how much God wants to help and bless us. It shows how He will answer the smallest prayer. Everyone should be asking God to help them with the big problems as well as the tiniest problems. He is always ahead of us. He already had the answer to the problem before you even prayed.

Don't take God lightly! He is mighty and loving and wants your love and trust. Try him!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781644689806

Book preview

Chapter 1

Distressing Times

When my husband Wayne came home one night, he fell on top of me, bleeding profusely from his head. He managed to say, I’ve been beat!

That was all he was able to say. When we got to the hospital, they called the police to report this vicious attack. They questioned me thoroughly and left satisfied that I wasn’t the attacker. After weeks in the hospital, the doctors ended up performing a frontal lobotomy. Wayne was never the same. We were going to celebrate our third anniversary that night. Wayne called to say he had one more stop to make and then he would be home so we could go celebrate. He had aphasia and suffered brain seizures. He eventually died a year and a half later after going into a coma for nine days. He was my second husband, a complete opposite of my first husband.

One evening, after friends of mine left my first husband Richard’s rental place, I was sitting on the sofa, watching a bit of TV before I went home as well. Richard was in the other room. All of a sudden, he just rushed into the kitchen. I could hear him riffling through a kitchen drawer, mumbling. Not too long after, he came out with a carving knife. He came swiftly toward me and raised his hand up with the knife. I quickly realized the knife in his hand was heading right toward my head. I swiftly grabbed the lamp next to me and pulled it in front to defend myself. He slashed and slashed the lampshade.

Eventually, he got between me and the coffee table, ready for a new surge of slashing. I grabbed the sofa throw pillow and held it up in front of me to take the knife stabs. I lifted my legs and placed my feet squarely on Richard’s stomach and chest while holding the pillow and weaving back and forth defending myself. My heart was beating so fast as he was about to stab me, yet I was worrying about hurting him. I shoved him back over the coffee table. He fell hard, a surprised look on his face.

I took advantage of the opportunity, grabbed my purse, and ran to the door. I looked back and saw that he was lying there just looking at me. I asked him to throw me my shoes, which were right next to him on the floor. He said, Come and get ’em!

I hesitated for a moment but heard a voice telling me, Get out of there right now!

I left barefoot and raced down the apartment building steps to the parking lot. I nervously searched for the car keys in my purse. When I finally found them, I looked back to see if Richard was following me. I jumped into my car, put it in gear, and took off.

Chapter 2

New York

I was born in New York City at the Saint Claire’s Hospital. I was brought up on Long Island along with five siblings, the girls and three boys. We started out living in Suffolk County, Long Island. We had the privilege of living in the beautiful town of Stony Brook and Setauket.

I remember mom was always strict with us kids so we were well-behaved because of her discipline. She definitely believed in spankings. We learned at an early age what was right and what wasn’t. She corrected us and loved us so there was no question about that. Dad was the softer parent, he let mom do the disciplining. Without the luxury of wealth or even middle-class status (having six children), my mother was still beautiful and always managed to exude a glamorous persona. She had style, that was for sure. She also had a certain style she liked for me. For example, she admired the pixie hairstyle, very short and oh so adorable!

I hated it, it was so short! I wasn’t cute like the other girls in first, second, and third grades. I was never popular in grammar school. I never had nice clothes that fit. All I had were hand-me-downs that were wrinkled and needed sewing here and there. I remember my kindergarten teacher who always ooh’d and ahh’d with the pretty girls dressed beautifully and had cute ribbons in their hair. My mom was not the best homemaker in the laundry department. We, the kids, usually did the laundry and were not always good about taking clothes out of the dryer, folding them, or hanging them up. We usually looked for things as we needed them and didn’t have time to iron or press. I was not considered very stylish. I wasn’t always the best student either. I couldn’t concentrate on my studies. I normally was a nervous wreck. I usually ended up in the corner standing in a paper trash bucket quite frequently. That was the punishment for kids who misbehaved or weren’t paying attention. I wasn’t well-liked because I didn’t know how to act. I wanted everyone to like me but didn’t have good enough social skills in grammar school. I was well-behaved at home though, that was for sure.

I had another problem, which didn’t help much in the popularity department. I wet my pants almost every day. It was very embarrassing, to say the least. One day, I had to go to an older kid’s classroom to drop off a report for the teacher. I was on my way home and had my lunchbox with me. I remember needing to go to the bathroom but just couldn’t hold it. It was running down my leg. One of the older students noticed it and pointed out, Your lunchbox is leaking. I was so happy that he thought it was the lunchbox and not the obvious. See there’s positive even in the most negative situations. Needless to say, I was given the nickname Stinkpot! There wasn’t too many kids who wanted to hang out with me. The only kids who would talk to me were other unpopular ones. One was way overweight and was called Fatty. Others with assorted and unacceptable graces were shunned. It didn’t help that one day after we had our class photos handed out to us, I looked at mine and thought there was a mistake. I went to the teacher to show her my photos and asked her if I could run them to my brother’s class as they gave me his photo in error. She said okay so I went to my brother Don’s class. We were only seventeen months apart in age. When I got there and showed him his photo, he looked at me and laughed, pulling out his photos. It turns out the photos I thought were of my brother were actually me! Embarrassed again, I took my photos back. My teacher asked if I was able to give the photos to my brother. I just said yes and didn’t tell her what I discovered. The pixie hairstyle had to go! After a few years in grammar school, we moved to another town. I could start all over with new kids. It got better with me each time we moved.

We were regular churchgoers but didn’t really get to know God in a personal way. Mom knew God but didn’t know Jesus. Well, God knew Mom and wanted her to know his Son. God used a most unique way for her and her children to know Jesus. He sent a big dog walking down the street right up to my mom and our little dog Nipper. The dog was very friendly and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave us. Before long, we heard someone whistling, and he took off toward the whistle. The next day, the big dog came to