The nightmare exploded onto the scene of my life about 7-8 years ago.

The dream occurred  soon after I had decided to rewrite my entire novel.

In the nightmare I had died and there appeared to be some mystery as to the cause of my death. I was looking down at my lifeless body lying on a table and they were about ready to cut my spinal cord open.

I remember thinking,”Ouch, that is gonna hurt!” Then I thought, “Wait a minute, I am dead I can’t feel anything.” And then in the afterlife I giggled a bit at the absurdity of my thought process.

The next realization dropped into my consciousness like a bomb. I had failed to accomplish what I had been placed on earth to accomplish. I had failed to finish my novel and this was of great chagrin to my God.

I can not tell you how heavy the weight of eternal guilt is but it is far more than I can bear.

That nightmare has been like a ghost haunting every second that I live. I have already written  400 pages of the rewrite.

I have shared parts of it with a dear friend of mine who has eaten up every word as if it is a delectable dessert.

I have told other friends of mine about it and they have begged me to finish it yet it still remains a work in progress.

Each day I wake up knowing that I have a calling from God, which I have not fulfilled.

It is a horrible reality to live within the crushing presence of guilt. So I brought this to my heavenly Father. I confessed that some days I just didn’t feel like writing.

I didn’t mean to be rebellious.

I can easily blog every day, but writing a novel is entirely different.

Blogging is like learning how to skip through a meadow. Writing a novel is similar to learning how to dance like a ballerina… on a stage of hot coals.

Besides, if this dream was prophetic and I wasn’t going to finish the novel, then why was I even trying?

I begged God to give me understanding and He took me back in the vault of my memories to what happened soon after this dream.

In close proximity to this dream I encountered the most vile attack of the devil.  I had my finances destroyed, my heart broken and some very special relationships almost completely severed. It was such a horrific battle that I contemplated forsaking my God. I also considered taking my own life.

The only thing that kept me tethered to this life was my unfinished novel. I knew I could not commit that horrible act of rebellion against God because I had not fulfilled my calling to finish this novel.

Yet it has been seven long years that I have been working on the rewrite and ten years working on the original manuscript.

Surely God is upset with my delay….

No, He isn’t.

Just this last week, He confirmed that He was fully in step with me on this journey. In Bible study, my good friend, David Roberts, threw out a morsel of wisdom. He mentioned the fruits of bitterness which gave me an idea as to how to better describe one of my characters.

There have been some other changes which the Holy Spirit has thrown into the mix also. I believe that God does not want me to carry guilt every day, although that is the first thing I clothe myself with every morning.

I think He enjoys working with me on this project and doesn’t need it to be rushed.  Something about eternity renders impatience an impossible characteristic to grasp.

The nightmare accomplished its purpose. In some strange way it gave me resolve to keep fighting to win the battle that had been set before me.

It is ironic that the novel I am penning has to do with spiritual warfare. In the process of sharing how my character won the battles that she encountered I,too, am learning how to win mine.



Through the grace of God, I have attained a very successful career as a home health nurse. I have also raised three children with the guidance of the Holy Spirit. These three children are all in college or have recently graduated and they are all working. God provided for my needs while raising my children, to the extent that I never took one penny from the government to assist in their care. The Lord gave me wisdom and strength not to align myself with a man who would verbally or physically abuse me. I am still a single mother 20 years after I separated and divorced my children’s father. I have had men who begged me to marry them, but I chose not to, because I did not see it as a move which would  draw me or my children closer to God.

Basically, God has put me together fairly well.

Yet when my air conditioner breaks down in the middle of the Texas summer I have the tendency to go “CRAZY.”  I do this on a normal basis when there is something presented to me which I have no mastery over.

My “Crazy” usually involves copious amounts of tears, going into the “victim” room of my heart and screaming at God.

It is a horrible thing to play the victim role. It strips you of all strength and ties your heart and mind up with ropes of helplessness. Of all roles in my life which I have played, the victim role is the one which I detest.

At times I will dissolve into a puddle of profanity also. Which there is really no excuse for.

Yet God does not protect me from these things which force me into the victim role. I wonder why not?

A couple of days ago, my daughter crawled into bed with me in the middle of the night saying in a sleepy voice. “The air conditioner upstairs has stopped working and it is too hot to sleep upstairs.”

This has become a summertime tradition in my home, but it usually does not happen until Independence Day in the blazing July sun.

I immediately started sprinting for my “victim” room. I told my daughter it seemed as if we were the only ones on the face of the earth which had continual air conditioning problems.

She said, “No, I have heard that a lot of people have air conditioning problems,” and rolled over to go back to sleep.

Wait a minute. I had to stop in my sprint. You mean others have air conditioning problems too?


Probably not as much as me, but I am kind of “special” in that department I guess.

So instead of bursting through the door of my “victim” room, I stopped in my tracks, turned around and walked boldly into the arms of my Saviour, Jesus Christ. I climbed on his lap and snuggled in his embrace and said,”I got air conditioning problems again. Could you please help me to walk through this without going “CRAZY’?”

Somehow the intimacy I feel with Jesus helped calm my CRAZY down. I have a home warranty company who paid for some of the cost and was out less than $200.00. My upstairs is now cool.

When I thought about my “CRAZY” self, I considered how Jesus must have felt when he left heaven and humbled himself to become a servant to us. To leave heaven and come to earth knowing that he would be crucified would have been sufficient reason to go all out “CRAZY” in my book. To have befriended twelve men who each betrayed him at his greatest hour of need would have locked me in my “victim” room with no hope for release.

The strength and power of Jesus, in addition to His love and humility, makes my “CRAZY” seem idiotic.

Yet when I drew near to him and asked him to help me with my air conditioning issue I felt such love.

It’s like I felt Him say, “Ahh, so you have air conditioning problems again, sweet Child of God? Why don’t you grasp my hand and let me walk you through this so that the devil doesn’t force you to go “CRAZY”.”

I love my Jesus so very, very much and I praise Him for all that He has done for me. Considering He helped create the world, conquered death and sits at the right hand of God, I don’t think he should even care about my “CRAZY.” Yet, I feel as if he cares more than anyone. What a love He is.


Hey there! I feel like a bad blogger for not wishing all of my single Mom’s a Happy Mother’s Day. So here it goes, I hope you all had a super duper fantastic day. HAPPY BELATED MOTHER’S DAY

I had a wonderful day. Actually, it was more like a wonderful few days.

My daughter graduated from College last Wednesday, so my son and his girlfriend flew in from Florida on Tuesday evening.

He is moving to Maryland in June to start working at the NIH. Then in August he will be moving to Baltimore to start his doctorate studies at the John Hopkins University.

I am very stoked about this, but the only downfall to this is that his girlfriend won’t be moving up there for a year. He is kind of like me in that he is highly intelligent but cannot, on a normal basis, find his keys. His girlfriend, on the other hand, always knew where his keys were. Love that girl! (Don’t know how that boy is going to survive without that girl by his side.)

I got an awesome T-shirt from this son, saying that I was a John Hopkins University Mom. Looking forward to wearing that soon!

Then I had an unexpected present from some of my daughter’s friends. Her sweet boyfriend threw a huge party for her to honor her for graduating from college. Some of her dear friends caught my ear and whispered “Thank you so much for raising Natalie. She is so sweet.”

I was so honored by that. My daughter is not only sweet, but it is clear that she is a champ when it comes to picking great friends. In addition, her boyfriend is so beyond perfect, it is unreal.

On Sunday my daughter invited me to a church I had not attended before and I enjoyed doing that with her. Then we went to lunch and to the Botanical gardens. It was a beautiful day.

I also got to speak with my youngest son on the phone. He is going to Louisiana Tech for Industrial engineering and is suffering through finals this week. For him to take the time out to call meant a lot. I didn’t expect anything else from him and when I unexpectedly received a card in the mail the day after Mother’s day I was surprised.

I opened the card and in it the card said I was “the biggest blessing in his life.” That made me feel so good. It was the most heartfelt and wonderful card I have ever received.

I truly hope that all of my readers who are Mother’s had a fabulous day. I hope your children honored you for the way you raised them.


The ability to change someone to become a better person is many times an elusive and frustrating feat.

Recently I became aware that I desired a change in my daughter’s cleaning habits or lack thereof.

She has been pursuing a college degree and working. She has been extremely busy for the past 3-4 years. She slips in and out of my house like a Navy Seal on a stealth mission.

I have been patient and kind regarding the disarray that has overcome her room. I keep telling myself, “she is busy and what she is doing is much more important than her having a clean room.”

But the other weekend I happened to walk into her bathroom and I was a bit frustrated because it looked filthy. So I chided her and told her that “this was unacceptable.” I went on to say that it looked worse than most bathrooms I had seen in my career and it could devalue my home.

Then I started praying.

I hate putting more pressure on my daughter than what she already has. But I also need to set a standard for her, so that when she is in charge of her own home, she will have an acceptable level of cleanliness.

Yet when I looked in my own clothes closet, I saw a fairly disorganized mess also. So I buckled down and went through all of my clothes and cleaned my own closet. I usually do this two times a year to coincide with the neighborhood garage sale, but I had failed to do it last fall. So it was a mess.

After I chided her, she cleaned her bathroom.

I snuck up there when she was not home and she did a really good job, but missed one area, so I cleaned that.

Then I happened to take some laundry up to her bedroom and while I was doing that I noticed that there was very little space which was not covered by clothes of some sort.

I started praying with more fervor.

I come from a long line of women who have nagging as a second language. My natural instinct was to nag her to clean up her room. But something kept holding me back.

I was still praying, but I was praying with the desire to nag.

Then on a Sunday morning I was looking for a notebook to jot down notes while at church. I happened across one of my journals from when my children were young. In this journal I had written about how disturbing it was for my mother to come visit me. All she did the entire time was nag about my carpet and how much I needed to get new carpet.

My mother has made most visits with her very difficult due to her constant criticism and nagging. I don’t want my dear daughter to regret the time she spends with me.

So I prayed some more, thanking God for the reminder of how I felt when I was a young woman.

Then a miracle happened. My daughter’s schedule lightened up and she went to town on her bedroom. In addition to cleaning her room, she deep cleaned two closets upstairs for me also. I didn’t even ask her to clean the closets and she did a super fantastic job.

It was such a relief for me to be able to praise her, instead of nagging her, because I am by nature someone who edifies others.

I am no self help guru, but as I reflected on this story I realized that there were certain steps that I took to achieve the change in my daughter which I had so desired.

The first step was to understand where she was at in life.  Being a college student is hard enough, but doing it while you are also working a job can at times be overwhelming. To nag at her about her room would have added unneeded stress.

The second step was to acknowledge my own shortcomings. I was very frustrated with my own closet. I needed to take care of that before pointing the finger at my daughter’s room.

The third step was to set appropriate boundaries. I needed to make sure that my daughter’s bathroom was cleaned on a regular basis to decrease the chance of mold. Mold can significantly affect the resale value of a home. Thank God she cleaned her bathroom before it got to that point.

The fourth step was to praise her for the successes I saw. People rarely change from criticism, but if you provide encouragement they are more apt to change. People and animals will work hard to receive a reward, but stop dead in their tracks if there is punishment ahead. Think of praise as a reward and criticism as punishment.

The fifth and final step is to PRAY CONTINUALLY WHEN YOU ARE TRYING TO CHANGE SOMEONE ELSE. God created us all in a unique and special way and sometimes we just need to chill and accept our differences.


Last week when my middle son was at my home to celebrate his sister’s graduation from college, there was another special day that required a celebration. It was his birthday that Saturday.

I asked him which cake he would prefer for the celebration and he chose the Oreo cake.

I discovered this cake a few years ago and it became a favorite of my sons.

In addition, I needed to find something which I could prepare in advance for the birthday dinner. That way  I could spend the majority of his visit chatting with him and his girlfriend.

After searching the internet for a bit of time I decided on Chicken and Spinach Lasagna,

I made a few changes in this recipe to kick it up a notch in the deliciousness and then put the Chicken and Spinach lasagna in the oven to bake half way through.

I was excited. I have always enjoyed hosting my children and their friends for big lavish dinners and my son had invited a friend of his over that evening.

My sons friend is Jewish so I was even considerate enough to use kosher cream cheese for the lasagna. I truly thought I had done an awesome job only to find out when my son arrived that the lasagna was not kosher. A kosher diet does not allow meat and milk products to mix. My bad.

My son said he would really rather go out to eat with his friend.


I mean we didn’t even know how strict this guy was in relation to his kosher diet.

He kept insisting that they go out.

I shed a few tears. I had already gone to so much work for this and I had no idea what I was going to do with the large 9×13 pan of lasagna.

So they went out and I started brainstorming about who I could share my lasagna with. For the record, they did come back and have some cake and ice cream. But not a bite of lasagna was to be had.

“Well,” I thought, “My boyfriend is having company coming from out of town. I will just give him the big pan of lasagna to share with his company.”

We picked up his friends at DFW airport Saturday night. This was after my boyfriend and I  had dropped my son off at the airport. We ate dinner at the Pecan Lodge and they rode all the way back to my place. I gave them a tour of my home. Not once during all of this time did it occur to me that there was a lasagna that was waiting patiently in my fridge to be eaten by them.

I didn’t remember the lasagna till the morning of Mother’s day. That was when I cried out to God. “PLEASE help me know who you want me to share this lasagna with.” It clearly did not have my son or my boyfriend’s name on it.

Then the thought occurred to me that I could share it with my friend, Kathy. Her and her husband, Darwin, have been such amazing friends to me. They have done so much to bless me and are so generous with me. This would be a wonderful opportunity for me to return just a smidgeon of the blessings I have received from them. So I texted Kathy and asked her permission to share.

She had actually been bed bound for three days with an exacerbation of lymphedema and she said she sure could use it. So I made a salad to go with it, along with some french bread and gave them some banana bread muffins for the next morning, along with 2 pieces of birthday cake.

They invited me to eat with them and I did eat a little bit. It was yummy, but even yummier because I was sharing it. This thought, which was obviously a God thought, just totally kicked my Mother’s day into a truly over the top amazing day and because of my children it had already been a fantastic day.


My son is in from Florida. He came with his girlfriend to attend the college graduation of my daughter. In June he will be moving to Maryland to start working at the NIH. In August he will be going to the John Hopkins University to work on his Doctorate in medical research.

The boy has God given brilliance and ambition and he wants to find a cure for cancer. I have no doubt he can accomplish this task.

This morning he and his girlfriend came down for breakfast and we started to contemplate the ailments of society. He is pretty far left and I was too, at his age. As I have matured, I have leaned more to the right in my political preferences.

As we were discussing life and the complexities of such, I realized that this was a moment I wanted to capture and tuck away in my memory vault.

There have been many moments in my life which have been painful. When I was a little girl I trained my mind to capture those moments so that I could cry myself to sleep. I didn’t want to give my mother the satisfaction of her knowing that she had hurt me. So I learned at a very early age how to wear the mask of a smile while harboring memories which could cut through my heart like a dagger.

As I grew older I have become more selective at which memories I treasure. I try to captivate all of the wonderful times I have had recently with my daughter. I love to revisit memories of being with my sons also. I realize that my mother did as best as she could and I don’t believe she realized how deeply her critical nature wounded me. I also relive each and every precious moment I encounter with my boyfriend.

It is a choice what memories we choose to treasure, but those which are filled with pain and anger have the potential to grow roots of bitterness which can strangle our heart. If we choose to treasure memories of happiness, we make the choice to nurture the fountain of joy which God instills in our hearts.

I still have to make a conscious choice as to what I keep in my memory vault and sometimes I realize I have to refile the memories in a different folder.



I am sure you had those days sometimes when everything seems to go wrong. Or maybe you have been put in a situation where other people don’t listen to you or they do things incompetently. The adage for this is Murphy’s law – : Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.

Days or situations like that can be infuriating and it is very tempting to give in to rage and profanity when facing that kind of a challenge.

For those of you who have visited my latest post. you may realize that my recent attempt to secure a storm door was riddled with obstacles.

Well, today the man was supposed to come out at 3 pm to put the new storm door up. He called at 10:30 am and asked to come at 11 am. I said,”Sure, you can come early.” I hadn’t set my appointments up yet because I was finishing up some documentation. So a morning appointment was suitable.

Then I happened to realize, with horror, that I still had my housecoat on. I jumped in the shower and quickly got dressed. Thankfully, he did not come any earlier than 11 am.

While he was putting up the door the thought occurred to me that I should tip him. Home Depot had been a bit of an issue to deal with but this guy wasn’t Home Depot. So I thought I would give him $10. Then I started praying about it and realized that God wanted me to give him $20. So I got a 20 dollar bill out to give to him.

After he put my storm door up I gave him the money and tried out my new door. It was perfect. He had given me a box of trash to throw away and for some strange reason I decided to sort through it and retrieve some new screws for my tool boxes. While I was sorting through it, I noticed a drill bit in the box. Surely he didn’t mean to leave that, did he?

My first thought was, “Yippee! A new drill bit for me!”

My second thought was, “I had better put a hustle on  it and try to catch that man before he left because I had a sneaky suspicion that he needed the drill bit.”

I listened and obeyed the second thought because I could tell that one was from God. I ran out my door and caught the guy before he even got back in his truck. I handed him the drill bit, saying, “I had found it in the trash.”

He said,”Thank you, I need that drill bit for my next job.”

This trial that I have had with Home Depot has been an interesting one. It is somewhat ironic that I was trying to purchase a storm door and through this purchase God was teaching me about how to keep a storm from my heart and mind.

He didn’t allow me to use profane words when talking with Home Depot. Although I was upset initially and had every right to become enraged. I kept my cool. Even in the last moment when I could have kept a drill bit that wasn’t mine, He nudged me to return it to the rightful owner.

I know the Devil thought that he would cause me to act like a fool in this instance, but I chose to draw near to my God instead.

Do not be deceived, I do not believe that we are to become door mats as a Christian. I asserted my rights to receive good customer service, but I did so in a measure which ensured respect for the other person. This is very hard to do in some instances, but God is gracious enough to keep teaching me how to tame my temper when going through trials.


I have needed a new storm door for quite some time. The hinge on the door was broken, so I just ripped it off. The only way I could keep the storm door from flying open in the wind, was to run a rubber band around the handle and pull the rubber band inside to wrap it around the inside door lock. (I can be creative when I need to.) But I was running out of rubber bands and getting a bit tired of my Hillbilly fix it solution.

So, I called my boyfriend and we scurried over to a Home Depot the weekend before Easter. We picked out a cool storm door and put it on will call for the next weekend. My son would be home that weekend and between the smarts of him and my boyfriend, I was sure we could have that storm door up in no time at all.  Piece of cake, right?

The Saturday before Easter arrived. My boyfriend and I hopped in his car and drove to the home depot to rent a truck and pick up my storm door.

They didn’t have no trucks. No problem, there was another Home Depot close by so we jumped in his car and sped over to the other store. We got the last truck they had. Whew! Wiping the sweat off my brow.

We went back to the original Home Depot to pick up my storm door. They did not have my door. WHAT? Yep, we ordered it the week before and put it on will call and they did not have it. Putting something on will call means you paid for it beforehand. So we essentially paid for something that they promised to have and they did not have it. WOW!

So, my boyfriend dropped me off at home while he returned the truck. I told my son, who got upset and he told me I needed to call the store and talk to a manager. So, I called and talked to the manager.

He looked up my order and said they had the door. YOU ARE KIDDING ME! Nope, according to this manager, they had the door. Well, I told him at that time we had already returned our rental truck so he needed to deliver it. He said he could not tell me when he would have the time to do so.

So, I waited a bit of time and then called back and talked to another Home Depot employee. I told him my predicament. He said he would load that door up and bring it to my home in his own personal truck and it would be there within an hour. NOW WE ARE TALKING!

I let that man into my backyard and told him a big thank you for delivering that door and thought that was the end of the story.

I started making brunch for my son and my boyfriend. They were working so hard putting up that door and I was toiling over the stove. I was so busy making them a good meal that I didn’t even look at the door until they had almost completed the task of putting it up.

I glanced at the door, did a double take, then looked again. Oh, NO! They had delivered the WRONG DOOR.  Furthermore, my boyfriend and son had PUT UP THE WRONG DOOR!  GADS!!!

So, I got back on the phone and called them and talked with manager #1. I told him I had paid for a different door than what had been delivered. They had delivered the cheapest door and I had paid for the middle of the road door. He said they didn’t carry the middle of the road door in that store. I asked him, “Then why did you sell it to me last week?”

I told him all of the many wrongs that Home Depot had done and asked him how he was going to make this right? He said he would give me an upgrade on the door for free and throw in a free installation.

I agreed to this. I went back to the store and they processed a refund and said they would arrange for the upgraded door to be installed. The manager said the people who measured for my door would call me Monday morning bright and early.

Monday morning came and went with no phone call. I called Monday afternoon to ask what had happened. I was informed by another store manager (#2) that the measurement people had 48 hours to call me. I told her that manager #1 had said it would happen Monday morning. She said he did not know the company policy and that was that they had 48 hours to do the measurements. So, they had until Tuesday at 3 pm to accomplish this task.

Apparently, Manager #1 needs to read the policy and procedure manual of Home Depot.

So, I waited until Tuesday at 3 pm and no phone call was received so I called them again asking when would it be convenient for those measurement men to come by? It had been 48 hours already. I was once again talking to manager #2 who had told me previously it was a 48-hour deal. She said, “They considered Monday a holiday because of Easter so they have one more day.” WHAT?!! NOW THE EASTER BUNNY IS IN ON THIS?

At this point it occurred to me that Home Depot really doesn’t care a bit about making their customers happy, but I wasn’t going to let this affect my outlook on life. They were clearly incompetent, but I was not going to get angry or use profanity when addressing them.

I finally got the assurance that they would be out on Thursday to get the measurements. I was home all day on Thursday and did not notice anyone taking measurements. Yet when I called on Friday they said they had done so. WOW! THAT IS IMPRESSIVE! THEY SENT OUT INVISIBLE PEOPLE TO TAKE MEASUREMENTS!

Seriously, they must have a corner market on ghost employees because I did not see one person walk into my backyard.

I don’t understand why anyone would need to take measurements in the first place, though, considering storm doors are all pretty much the same standard size. But they said they could not deliver or install the door until the measurement “people” (ghosts) had measured.

So now we had to arrange for installation. I called the store again. Kept hearing the same thing. That they were going to do it. I was first on the list… blah blah blah. I hadn’t paid for the new door yet and store manager #1 said I had to do that before they could arrange for installation.

So today I swung by and he showed me the exact door which would be installed at my home. We both wrote our names on the box to make sure it was mine and he said he would have the installers call me asap.

Well, I know better than to hang my hat on that peg. I will just be happy if I get the door installed within the century because they clearly aren’t to be trusted.

I was so proud of myself though, because through all this mess I kept my calm. I got a bit angry at first because this really messed with my Easter weekend. After a discussion with my son, I regained my composure and had a lovely time with him.

My sweet boyfriend kept his composure also, even though this wasted a full day for him right before he was set to cook a full blown all out-Easter dinner large enough to feed an army.

I also considered this kind of a test run for Home Depot. Sometime this year I intend to put new flooring in my house. I will not consider Home Depot for any other purchases no matter how large or small, except for one item.

Just one item…

That being cow manure because they clearly know how to sell a load of bullshit.



I am by nature a very content person. I have a house that I am very fond of, just recently bought a beautiful new car, I have a very stylish wardrobe but I will be honest I am envious. I get sick with envy when I hear of people that can travel.

I love to travel. I have been to Peurto Rico and the Virgin Islands as a young girl. I have been to many states in our country. I have traveled to Mexico and the Dominican Republic and also to England and Wales. Yet I want to travel so much more.

This envy has become an obstacle for me. I can’t even hear someone talk about their travels without going all green.

I started talking to God about it and the next morning the devil was knocking on the door of my thoughts saying. “Hey there, you know your sister is right now in Australia or New Zealand right? Don’t you wish that you were her?”

I prayed about it immediately and asked God to help me deal with this sin which so besets my heart. Then I got up and realized that the pain in my feet from my plantar fasciitis was just as severe as ever. It felt like knives were sticking through my feet. What fun would it be to travel when I can not walk one step without severe pain?

As I gingerly walked to my kitchen the cool of my tile floor helped ease the pain in my feet. My daughter was up and we exchanged morning pleasantries. If I had been overseas I may have missed that moment and I treasure each moment I can spend with her.

The other item of importance in my life is my novel. I am working on it and hope to finish it soon. God has revealed that this novel is of primary importance to Him and it is His will that I finish it while I am here on earth.

In regards to my novel, I try to spend as much of my free time as possible on it. When I have traveled, I have spent an enormous amount of time planning, packing and traveling. I do like to get away to work on my novel but I don’t have the finances currently to do that.

I hope and pray that someday I will be able to travel more. Yet, I realize that to walk on the path of envy and want to be someone else is not pleasing to God. It is also a path which walks in direct opposition to the peace that God wants me to have.  I am trying to enjoy each moment of this wonderful life I have in the place where God has planted me.



I got the email last night. My blog had been disabled. When I tried to go to my site I was forbidden.

What? I mean I have been blogging for over three years. I have over 17,000 people who have subscribed to my blog.

I launched the blog to build a platform for the novel that I intend to release within a year or two. I have been working on this novel for 16 long years and I am about ready to pull it to a close.

This couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune time.

I called Hostgator, my hosting service and asked them what was up? The first person I talked to said I would have to hire a developer to get my site fixed. Well, I don’t have a developer in my back pocket so I asked him if there was any way I could do the fixing. He put me on hold… for a very long time.

I hung up and called back again and then no one answered. I kept calling and could not get a hold of anyone. So I got smart and used a different phone. I got through right away.

I scored on this call. The young man was very kind to me and told me that all I had to do was install a plug in which would erase my cache.

I am not in any way a techy kind of person so I asked him if that would erase my archives? He said, “No, it is just like having 10,000 copies of the same novel running at the same time. No one needs to read 10,000 copies at one time do they?” (Well, not unless it is my novel, at least. wink, wink)

Okay, I got it now. I finally understood that without the right plugin I could take the whole server down which would not only inconvenience me but a lot of other bloggers also. That is when I started saying my apologies. I had no idea that I was that dangerous, nor do I even like being that dangerous.

So far with Hostgator I have had no problems with my server being disabled but the hosting site I had before Hostgator had major server problems and my site was constantly going down. I felt really, really awful for being so close to infringing upon the ability of other bloggers to get published. Thank God they disabled my site before that happened.

I installed the WP super cache and also upgraded to the new Word press system, got a better PHP going and took down a bunch of nonsense from my side bar. Pretty productive day for my blog, I must say.

I am happy it turned out well, but I remember how offended I was when I saw that I had been forbidden from entering something which I had created.

I can’t imagine how God feels when He is forbidden from entering a heart.