The Great Depression....

There is a great chasm that is often found within the confines of moms,  full of dark days and even darker nights, where they feel as though their worth is far less than anyone can imagine.  They feel as though no rope is long enough to help lift them out of the ever deepening gulf that has swollowed their hopes and dreams. Here is a story of a woman who is still fighting this battle but hopes to bring comfort to someone that is in it as well.   Here is a journal piece that she has allowed me to share.....
"It's still dark outside. I can literally feel the rain and the barometric pressure change as I lay in my bed.  I keep wishing myself back to sleep but no, my brain will not allow it.  Each morning begins this way; with a sudden awakening and a realization that I am still alive, and I am still here.  I hate waking up; truth is I wish that I would never wake up.  This is a very selfish thing to think because I have a family that is counting on me but I can't help it.  My mind holds the realities of who I am too close to my heart; and so, here I lay with the constant barrage of images and affirmations of what my worth is, on replay and fast forward so that I don't miss a single one. "You're useless, you are a terrible mother, you're way too fat, you are definitely going bald, you are worthless, your husband and family would be better off without you,..." this list goes on and on.  The ones about my family sting the most because in my heart I know that they are true.  I am ruining them.  Every day I ruin them just a little bit more. I would close my eyes to get away from it but when I do I see images of me ruining my family that back up the thoughts that are there on display.  During my morning mental movie I also have the to do list playing in the back ground. Clean, Clean, Clean... Today is laundry day.  I hate laundry day.  But to be fair I hate most things right now. I hate how it sounds when the kids run through the house, I hate how it feels to see the living room a mess with play forts, I hate that I have worked so long and hard at cleaning the house and knowing that in about 30 seconds it will be destroyed all over again with toys and dress up clothes all things that bring joy to children of growing age.  I know that these are things that people typically hate but for me it feels almost life and death.  I HATE IT!!!  My kids should be allowed to have a messy lunch and enjoy every second of it.  They should know the joy of a properly made blanket fort and not be afraid of the final clean up.  They should be allowed to blow bubbles and not worry about the slippery mess that can be easily cleaned up. I feel totally out of control when my kids want to go to a friends but even worse when they ask for one to come play over here.  But they aren't even allowed these joys.  Why?..you ask. The answer in short is Because of me.  I feel as though my head and body are about to explode with the knowledge that there again I have to clean.  I become angry when I look around and feel as though the only thing I am good for is being a maid. I Have found that my life as a house maid is the only thing that defines me any more.  I no longer do the things that I loved when we first got married because a maids job never ends. ( Get up do breakfast, clean up, do laundry, clean bathrooms, bedrooms, living room, repeat every 5 mins until lunch.  Then repeat again until dinner.  Repeat again until bath and bed time.) It has been years since I have drawn or painted and those were things that I loved whole heartedly.  When I take the kids to the park I do it with a sense of duty rather than love.  I see on social media how families are enjoying water parks and fun in the sun, yet here I am wishing night would come so that they would go to bed and I would be allowed peace again for the night.  I know that I chose to be a mom.  This is a sacred duty that some will never be able to enjoy and yet here I am complaining about such trivial things.  Trust me I get that this is a vacuous way to look at a life so blessed, but the darkness seems to seep in from every corner. 

I already feel useless, worthless, a parent that is nothing short of a mistake.  I hate what I see every time I look at my self in the mirror. So nothing anyone says will surprise me.  But this is how I feel.  I wake up being exhausted wishing it was bed time but then it becomes night and I wonder how did this all came about,  when did I hate being me? I cannot recall when it all started but it felt worse right after my last baby was born.  I really didn't get a chance to love him and feel like the mom of a newborn.  I was sick and so was he.  We both spent the first year of his life trying to get better.  I remember the first 2 weeks of his life lying in bed with him next to me because I was too sick to get up and move.  I had a really hard time bonding with him.  I loathed the way I felt, sick, weak, and no way to sleep with a nursing baby. There were days that I felt if I moved too quickly my body would shut down and I would die right there. I was so scared that I called my family in and told them how I felt.  They thought I was having anxiety attacks but I knew it wasn't.  This was a constant feeling not something that would come and go like anxiety attacks would.   Then Suddenly my baby became critically ill and was put in the hospital and there I sat holding him crying a deep hopeless cry that we both were in a predicament that I had no control over.  I held him watching him fight for his life while I desperately held on to mine. Once out of the hospital he began to mend but truthfully I still have not.  My body is still struggling to find that place of healing but my mind has become so lost in it all that it feels as though there is no hope of finding health and what is left of me after all of the trauma of birthing several children. 

 

It has been almost 2yrs now and i seriously feel more lost than ever.  I am not even sure that I can pull myself out of this hole!'" My journal paints a dark picture. This has been my life for quite some time.  I have felt lost and alone for so long that it is extremely difficult for me to allow you to read this . But here I am I have walked out of the bedroom disheveled and exhausted from a lack of sleep.  I mindlessly go to the fridge for milk and make up bowls of cereal.  The kids sit and eat and I watch.  I cringe at the idea of the doing dishes, and yet somewhere inside I know that it will be ok to just let them sit while I write to you.  You see I have a very good friend who began telling me about something she was discussing with her class it was on the art of war.  In preparation for war people will build a wall around their city that is set upon a hill.  This is for protection and also so that they can see what is coming.  As the war descends upon them they see it afar off and can battle effectively.  However once the battle reaches their  wall a siege begins to take place.  This siege will cut off their supply of food and also their communication.  They will become isolated and feel all is lost.  Once they are totally cut off then the enemy begins to pound and pound at the fortification with all sorts of battle efforts in order to bring down the city. 

As she was telling me about this my mind began to swirl about with thoughts and emotions.  I realized that me, as a person, as a mom and a wife, I was being attacked.  This world and all that is required of me was battling me on all fronts.  Somewhere in the midst of this battle the catapults had sent in firey balls of pain that damaged something within my fortified walls and slowly everything inside was being depleted and burned with searing amounts of pain.  All of the negative thoughts were constant balls of fire obliterating every chance of hope and rescue.  I thought back to the times I felt that my prayers were not being answered.  I am not as haughty as to believe that God should give me what "I WANT" but any answer would suffice.  Flash back upon flash back I saw all the moments I sat on my bed just holding a pillow wishing the noise would stop, hiding behind the bathroom door hoping no one saw me go in, crying myself to sleep and hoping my husband wouldn't hear my sniffles, and in that moment I knew what it all meant. 
The wall (as she explained) was our prayers and living as righteously as possible, service, etc.  The Hill is our foundation built upon Christ where he would give us the ability to see the adversary as he approached.  Thus giving us the advantage to defeat him before he even got close.  Communication was with our family and friends and even the savior.  These are the things we begin to shut out once the depression gets too bad. Our food being sprititual and possibly even literal food are the things we feel we no longer need because the hurt is too deep and nothing has satiated it before.  However If we forget to pray or be obedient then our walls begin to become weak and not as tall as they would have otherwise been.  Thus allowing the adversary to get in and destroy us from the inside out.  Without those fortifications we will not be able to withstand the forces at our emotional, mental, and spiritual door.
I knew now...it wasn't me!!  I am not worthless,  I have strength (somewhere), I am a good person (I hope) I am better that the enemy wants me to believe; and I am not staying in this hole.  I realized that he had reached me.  He reached me because I stopped praying; I stopped reading my scriptures, I stopped building and rebuilding that barrier between me and the enemy, and because of this here and there small cracks in my wall began to open allowing the enemy to tell me I was worthless; this fight was useless and that I would never amount to anything.  Slowly but surely the cracks widened and catapults thrown until now my battle field looks as though an atomic bomb went off and there is a huge hole where once there was a city on a hill.  If you are like me looking in on the destruction you are feeling that ever familiar feeling of this is useless.  There is too much damage.  I can never get back to the way I felt.  But I have a question for you...
Whenever there is a war or a tragedy what do people do?  They rebuild right?! They clear out the debris, get rid of what is broken and start fresh.  They begin with clear ground and then build a sure foundation.  This is my job now.  Now that I know where I am within my mind this is what I have to do.  It isn't going to be easy.  I will have to actually get out of bed.  I will have to sweep out the pain and the dragging belief that I don't matter even though it feels like I have 300lb weights on my ankles and arms; and I will have to begin again.  The only way to defeat the enemy is to never give up.  Begin building again.  To pray when it feels useless, to believe even when you're not sure,  to live as though the war is just about over so that hope doesn't feel so far away.  Today I feel a little bit of light shining through the dark clouds.  That ray of light may or may not be there in the morning but I know that if I clear away a little more of the debris then that light will get brighter and brighter.
We are children of God and he has said:
Matthew 5:14-16
14 Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

 15 Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

 16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

One day I will get there.  I have to...

 

AND SO DO YOU!!!!

anonomyous.

 

Depression hits home to so many individuals. If you are feeling this way please find someone to talk to.  Depression is hard on you and your family.  You battle a very real war each day and I am often amazed at the triumphs that you all reach.  I am so grateful to this mother for her willingness to share how hard it is to pull and dig her way out of bed each day.  You, dear mother, are a hero for still trying despite the heart ache and pain.  Thank you again, and Good luck with ALL my love to you and your famliy in your ability to conquer.

*Please send me your edge of the miracle story to (edgeofthemiracle@outlook.com). I will preview it and then keep in close contact with you before featuring it in an upcoming blog.  There are people out there that need your strength.  They need the kind of peace only your story can bring.  Even if you don't feel like it is worth a feature, just know that someone out there somewhere is needing to hear how you have overcome and the lessons that you have learned.  You may save their life or quite possibly save many lives. We need your story.

 



 

 

 



The sharp edge of "new life" ...

Suppose you were told when you were 16 that you'd never have a child of your own.  Suppose also, at that age you had a surgery that supported the doctors claims.  What would you do?  How would you react? Women are supposed to be mothers!  They are supposed to bare and rear and nurture beautiful babies into adult hood. Right?!  So now what?

*****"As a woman I know there isn't much I wouldn't do to become a mom.  There are some women out there that feel just fine with pursuing a career or other pursuits and that is a fine goal for them.  But I knew at the age of 7 that I wanted children and lots of them. During Family Home Evening when I was 8 My dad played this game of "pretend ancestoral lines."  This is where we would take a family tree and write the pretend names of our spouse and children on the lines.  For me that huge page of 20 or more lines was totally filled.  Each child that I put on there not only had a name but had a gender and a twin.  Yep you read that right a twin.  I wanted children, and I wanted them to come at me like Noah wanted animals on the ark, in pairs.  My dad laughed at me and I remember feeling very confident that all would be perfect.  So at the age of 15 I began having pain.  Not a lot at first just some here and there, but it was bad when it did come.  By age 16 it was coming more frequently.  I hadn't said much to may parents but one morning when I tried to get out of bed the pain was so bad the I fell to the floor.  I couldn't stand up because it was so excruciating.  I used every strength I had to crawl up the stairs to my parents room.  I laid on the floor in the door way of their room and called for my mom.  She came to my aid. She quickly booked an appointment for a clinic that we could go to but it was 30 minutes away.  I did my best to get out to the car and we began the commute. Once there the Doctor took a look.  His diagnosis:  "I'm not sure...its either her appendix or it is her reproductive system. We'll need to do an ultrasound to find out."  After the ultrasound they told me that I had A LOT of free fluid in my system and they were not sure if my appendix had ruptured or not but that they needed to do surgery right away to stop what ever source the fluid was from.  I was in surgery for a very short time (at least to me :+D). Once awake I was told that my appendix was bad but the source wasn't from that.  It was from some very very large ovarian cysts, 14 of them to be exact, that were rupturing and bleeding internally.  I had been bleeding to death slowly.  They said that the damage done would most likely prevent me from ever having children and that I also needed to be on birth control for a very long time to try and combat the affects of all the problems these cysts caused.  They said that if I ever went off of the birth control that the amount of cysts that would return would be catastrophic and I could possibly die.  My dreams of being a mom were crushed. I left that day in heavy spirits.  Flash forward to a bright beautiful sunny day in July when I meet the man destined to be my husband.  I have dated many guys and none of them were told of this possible road bump.  How do you tell the man you want to spend eternity with that his hopes of ever having a child of his own were next to zero?  However that night I did I told him with fear in my heart. As he looked at me with love in his eyes his response was incredible to say the least.  "we'll just have to adopt then." he said while looking straight through my eyes and into my heart. I knew that this man was mine and he would love and understand me.  One year after our marriage I made a decision to stop the birth control.  My husband was worried but I was sick of how it made me feel and I wanted to know if I could have a baby so I stopped taking them.  3 months later I awoke in the middle of the night with full confidence that I was indeed pregnant. 3wks later the test confirmed.  This was joy beyond joy! I remember my husbands reaction to the news.  He was so excited and he said "It's going to be a girl."  I asked him how he was so sure and he said, "Because I need to do some growing up."  We laughed but those words were more true for us than we would have ever imagined. On the flip side it was an incredible feeling to know that I was beating my own odds.  We were religious with the appointments and ultra-sounds. But at 23 wks something wasn't quite right.  I had gained 27 pounds in 3 wks. Being my first baby and first pregnancy I had no clue as to what might be going on so I just waited for the Doctor to explain to me why nothing fit any more..including all of my large maternity clothes.  He responded in a way that I can only describe now as complete mockery and medical negligence.  "You gained 27 lbs in 3 wks you know that right!?" he said.  "well ya, I am not sure why but nothing is fitting anymore."   "you need to lay off the potato chips!" he announced in such a demeaning manner that I felt 1inch tall.  "I watch what I eat I promise."  is the response I peddled out as quickly as possible hoping to bandage the gaping wound that I now felt. "Well it was over the holidays maybe YOU WEREN'T paying attention."  I went home so deflated and ashamed that I began doing something that made my situation deadly without my knowledge.  I began to run.  Every night I jogged.  Trying desperately to squelch the issue that I was told I had started.  27wks gestation a mere 3 1/2 weeks later my husband and I were at a pre-super bowl party.  When suddenly I had pain in my stomach area.  Thinking that it was the hot sauce from the wings I went upstairs to be alone and not inhibit the party going on.  The longer I sat there the worse the pain became.  About an hour later the pain was so unbearable that I could no longer walk.  I crawled over to the stairs and called to my husband.  He came up just in time to see me begin vomiting.  We went home from the party where the pain just kept increasing.  My husband kept trying to get me to go to the hospital but the fear that they would send me home kept me from agreeing.  At some point in the night my husband decided that enough was enough and he took me in.  They attached me to all sorts of machines and then took my blood pressure.  186/212...Nurses began to scramble and yell things.  I was in too much pain to notice. Here I was sitting on the bed with the garbage can in my lap just heaving and heaving.  A new pain began to emerge.  My head began hurting so bad that I couldn't see.  Eventually I blacked out. I could hear voices but I couldn't see anything.  I don't know how long I was unconscious but in the darkness I heard a voice.  It was my father in law telling me he and my husband were going to give me a blessing.  I fell asleep right after that moment and I felt a deep sense of peace.  The next day I was awoke to the sound of a lot of movement.  When I was finally able to open my eyes I realized I was being prepped for life flight.  They flew us to St. Lukes Hospital in Boise.  That night I underwent emergency C-Section to save both mine and my daughters life.  When they delivered her she made a very small cry and then instantly turned blue.  They showed her to me as they whisked her past to a bed made especially for her with a ventilator and all sorts of tubes and lines.  She was so small!! 1lb 10 oz and 13in. 

this wasn't real, this couldn't be real!!! This isn't supposed to be how this works!  My thoughts were reeling. After recovery they allowed me to go in and see her.  I was in denial at first.  I still felt asleep.  Back in the darkness of the hospital room in Pocatello, not here in Boise.  I had made this up.  But as my mind slowly began to realize the reality of it all a deep deep sadness, a kind that I can only describe as a 200lb weight tied to my body dragging me down to drown me, was pouring into my mind and heart.  What now?, What if...?  How do I care for her? What should I do?  So very many questions and very few answers awaited behind that Pediatric Intensive Care door where our child lay under warming lights and a cover over her eyes.  "Don't talk loud." they told us. "it makes her breathing stop, and her heart rate drop."  "try not to touch her, it stresses her out and causes her to have problems."  they said.  I felt helpless.  Still trying to recover on my end but trying so hard to feel like an actual mom when I can't hold her or touch her or even talk to her, it was the worst feeling of my life.  I suddenly felt as though I really wasn't a mom.  I was just an observer of someones  life while I tried to recover from some accident or illness or something.  5 days later they discharged me from the hospital.  I still remember the day so well.  It was raining out, similar to the scene of a movie, I stood at the window and watched the rain pour down and I cried.  The intensity of my tears I had not felt ever before.  My daughter lay in the hospital on deaths bed and I was no longer near her like I should be.  I was 3 1/2hrs away from any family or friends and I felt so empty.  At this moment I should have knelt to pray but I didn't.  I just let the sadness take me away.  I just closed my eyes and allowed the darkness to swallow me whole. 2 wks later I still hadn't even tried to pray.  Not because I didn't believe but because I was so consumed in my situation that I didn't think about it.  However at 2 am We received a call from the PICU informing us that our daughter had a really bad infection and she probably wouldn't make it.  She had to have a surgery to insert a line into her heart and we needed to go to the hospital right then and sign papers.  I sat outside that door and watched through the window as they performed surgery on our little lady and I prayed the entire time.  2 hours of constant prayer awoke something in me, it awoke my spirit to something I had been missing. This thing was My Father in Heavens love.  During the 2 weeks that we had been there and during the times I felt so alone he was there just waiting to lift me and help me if I'd ask him. But I hadn't until now.

  My husband had been the rock up until this point. He was always praying, always by her side ready to give her a blessing when she needed it and always prepared to pick me up when the darkness was just too much, and I am forever grateful to him for that. But it was time for me to give up my worries, my sadness, my anxieties to someone that knew what to do.  Someone that could take the reigns and help guide the doctors and give them success. That morning she barley pulled through the surgery. She lay swollen and feverish but stable. We watched our beautiful peanut endure and overcome many many other scares during her 4 1/2 months in the PICU.  But from that moment forward I never forgot to ask God for help.  This moment in my life had been so hard but I realized that It had been harder during the first 2 weeks without the Lords help. I have said many times in the past that 1st time parents should never have to go through this.  But the truth is,  I am grateful for the experiences that I have had. I found a strength that was beyond my own, I found a hope that was more sure than anything I had ever felt, and I also gained a knowledge that God is there and he knows our needs.  All of our needs.   My daughter is 13 now.  She went through 5 surgeries in her first 2 years and a couple others along the way.  She has more scars than I could ever count all over her tiny body but along the way she and has always remained happy and optimistic. She is an incredible source of joy, love, and strength.  This girl is not afraid to tell someone how much she and Heavenly Father loves them and she bears her testimony of love and peace to whom ever she meets.  She is a defender of those that are down trodden and will give her very last penny to anyone that needs it.  I learn from her every day, and I am grateful for the opportunity I have had to be strengthened by her. If I could go back in time I wouldn't do this any other way.  Its what we learn when we are pushed to the very edge that makes us appreciate all that we had to endure along the way.  It is all worth it if we allow ourselves to learn while God is teaching."  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1CSVqHcdhXQ


Moroni; chapter 7
 40 And again, my beloved brethren, I would speak unto you concerning hope. How is it that ye can attain unto faith, save ye shall have hope?

 42 Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope.

 43 And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart.

44.........by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, he must needs have charity; for if he have not charity he is nothing; wherefore he must needs have charity.

 48 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen.

*Please send me your edge of the miracle story to (edgeofthemiracle@outlook.com). I will preview it and then keep in close contact with you before featuring it in an upcoming blog.  There are people out there that need your strength.  They need the kind of peace only your story can bring.  Even if you don't feel like it is worth a feature, just know that someone out there somewhere is needing to hear how you have overcome and the lessons that you have learned.  You may save their life or quite possibly save many lives. We need your story.

A Clear Edge.

Every school has tests,  tests that check their ineptness, tests to show their ability to learn to be "just like everyone else."  This test defines a child's future according to this worlds standards.  But what if the worlds standards are wrong? What if the way most children learn isn't the only way?  Children come into this world so small and at our mercy...but what if we took a moment and learned from them? What if our world combined all of the ways of learning and created a new world of love?

Here is a story of a young man who learned differently his whole life and yet his abilities to do things are very profound.  Here is a story of  Joshua Lind a young father who has struggled with these things his whole life and yet he finds the silver lining within it all. (see some of his drawings at the end of the story,they are Incredible!)

" Well, let's see, where do I begin?   I know every person has a story within them, I have many.  Many of my stories I keep secret to the point that even family members and close friends do not fully see until I reveal it to them.  It wasn't that I wanted to keep my secrets confidential, it was more like I wanted to understand my personal cryptic life more correctly first before I said anything to... well really, anyone. I knew I was different growing up, but not until adulthood did I learn why.  Here is one of them, I was never shy growing up.  Surprised? Yes it's silly I know. Most people would argue with me on that one who grew up with me in school.  To me, the definition of a shy person is a person afraid to talk to others. Someone that perhaps gets in a state of apprehension, uncertainty and fear resulting from anticipation in thinking  of talking to someone.  At least, that was the definition of what I thought shyness was and that was definitely not me.  So why was I considered shy growing up?

Here is another secret, I can't remember your name very well.  Yes everyone forgets names now and then from time to time, but is it to the point you can't remember a name of a person you known for 30 years? Not just with one person, but with every person. Luckily I can remember some family members and my wife's, but that's it.  Does this make any sense?  

Okay, last one and then I'll stop being so vague. In High school I have been told I am a smart person. Others would even cheat off my homework at school and get good grades, but did you know when I took my A.C.T. test. the most important test in school to take when wanting to get into collage, I scored just an 11 on it.  I have not met anyone lower yet when trying to score good, and I promise you I did my best to do good on that test and I had no test anxiety.

So, what is all this about then?  Well here's the truth,  I'm disabled.  Yup, I have been all my life.  I am a jumble of hidden things in one body.  I'm dyslexic, have Dysnomia, Low Latent Inhibition, and lean towards the Aspergers syndrome disorder.  Not to mention RLS, but that's another story.

So to the normal person, what does all this mean? Well most people think with mainly with words when talking to others.  With me, it's was different.  There was very little dialogue in my mind. I think with mainly pictures and concepts and virtually no verbal words in my mind at all. I'm a picture thinker.  It's my first language.  And when talking to others, there is  a time delay to translate pictures into words, and when I found the right words to say, the conversation would then be long gone and onto another subject.  Because of that, I didn't contribute much to talking to others. I got labeled as shy when in reality I was just a little two cylinder engine trying to keep up with a six cylinder type of average person.  

This related to my dyslexia because I see words in pictures form and my mind is good at spinning and moving those words in different prospective and points of view. This becomes fun when a person talks.  I had to go to speech therapy to learn to memorize common sayings to just keep a conversation going like, nice weather we are having, or that's awesome, or my favorite, you stumped me there, let me think for a sec.

 Dysnomia is a type of aphasia. It is when you may know what a person, place, or thing is, but your mind cannot recall the names of those things. You have the tip of the tongue experience all the time every time.  It's similar to those in nursing homes that start losing their minds of names of things, but luckily I don't have to go through that because I have already been born to think that way. I have this problem because of Low Latent Inhibition. 

 Low Latent Inhibition is better understood when you understand Latent Inhibition.  Everyone has it. It is when you go to a door, for example, for the very first time.  You look at it and notice the details of what you see.  There is scuff marks on the handle that is made out of brass, crackly paint on the door, and smudge marks from others from the past kicking the door with their shoes.  But, after awhile, you go to the one door, you gone to them all.  Your brain adapts, you see less details.  You know what they're used for and open them and shut them and go on your way.  You notice less details, because you brain treats it as old stimuli so it doesn't get bombarded all the time with all the information around you. This is normal.  It's healthy. If you didn't have this happen, you would go crazy with all the mass of information going into your mind.  A person with Low Latent Inhibition is a person that has a low ability to stop old information to be treated as new.  For example you go to a door that you been to many times and you notice the details all the time as if it was new.... every..... single .....time.... Okay, I got to let out some frustration and use my adopted swear word.  Ready, cover your ears, "Curse words....."  There, I'm better now.   Anyway, You can't shut it off, it just doesn't work that way.  You don't have the ability to stop all this incoming information. Your body starts developing disabilities like autism, Aspergers, or other similar disabilities if you can't handle it.   This is where my Dysnomia came in to play.  My brain threw out names of things as useless information so it could handle all the incoming details around me. Trust me, it's involuntary, or rather, I can't control it, it just happens.

So why do I share all this, It's a little detailed and scientific to explain but to explain it in any other way would not be possible. I share this so that you can have a perspective of my secret.  

It's a blessing.  Compassion for others has been the fruit of this experience... I learned that I am not dumb, or less intelligent. I am just wired different.  It's only a disadvantage in a world that works opposite in the way I work.  In fact, given the right situation provided, I do good in schooling and test and have even been on the dean's list.  But at the same time and in the same measurement of time when achieving this awesome goodness, I also performed the worst and still do. It will be something I will live with the rest of my life.  But I know God lives and is good to us all.  I would love to share more, but to understand my true story, I had to share this secret first.  I'll only be able to share my story of blessings in life if only you have an understanding of my little hiccups of this mortal body.  If I am able, I will share them latter, but as you can imagine.  writing this took just over 3 hours and I'm tired of writing for now.  but until then, stay tuned."

What an incredible life.. and what an amazing way to look at your challenges.  Thank you for inspiring me to be more positive and looking at things in a better light. Josh you are an incredible example to all.  Thank you again.

 

John from the New Testament on the left.
And an old man on the right that has a hidden meaning.  Cover up half of his face to the left and right and see his expression change.  (Both drawn by Joshua Lind)





*Please send me your edge of the miracle story to (edgeofthemiracle@outlook.com). I will preview it and then keep in close contact with you before featuring it in an upcoming blog.  There are people out there that need your strength.  They need the kind of peace only your story can bring.  Even if you don't feel like it is worth a feature, just know that someone out there somewhere is needing to hear how you have overcome and the lessons that you have learned.  You may save their life or quite possibly save many lives. We need your story.