I refuse to stay in the Pit of Despair!

 

Depression is often related to one having a sense of loss to something dear to them. In my case I am grieving the loss of my adult children's affection and the feeling that to them I am already dead. I have been tossed out like an old shoe.

Second is the fact that they aren't very nice people and I suspect that one way or the other, I have failed as a mum...

So I had a time of prayer and during that I felt that as far as mothering goes, how they now act as adults is not my fault. I know now that God knows I did bring them all up in the faith and they were taught to be honest and decent people.

I have now decided that I will not stress about not seeing my new great granddaughter or even grandchildren...  it is pointless to bond with them when I wont probably see them... I will not waste my last few years waiting for a word from them or even acknowledgement that I exist... if they cared, they would call 

So now I am going to move forward and enjoy as much as possible those who do love me and want me in their life... 

The hardest lesson I think was to realise that my love for them is not reciprocated and I am not  important or valued much in their life at all. It's a bitter pill but once taken, it helps alleviate the grief of unrequited love... 

So I am going to move forward and start thinking of positive things, like Chris and those in my family who do love me...  

Another lesson was that even though I have no expectation of a relationship and have pulled back to stop hurting, it does not mean I don't love them... it just has to be from afar as they are toxic to me. At this stage of my life, I just need peace. And that doesn't mean  I am selfish...

I refuse to stay in the Pit of Despair!

 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength faileth. Psalm 71:9

I couldn't live with myself

 

I have been grappling with writing what's on my heart lately. As a deep thinker, I ponder daily on what I feel God wants me to write about in this blog. I try to encourage and edify, but I know that sometimes what I speak of upsets some people.

As I looked at myself in the mirror today, I saw a woman whose life is spent mostly on studying the Word of God, praying and blogging in between bouts of chronic illness. It's all I can do now.

Writing's been a passion of mine for the last 30 years after three separate pastors at different services prophesied over me, saying that God has appointed me to be a spokesperson- actually the word was "mouthpiece" for Him throughout the world.

I really took this to heart and started writing Christian personalised verse and self published a book of poetry called "In Spirit And In Truth". It sold at various Christian bookstores, but somehow this didn't seem the way that I was meant to go...

With the advent of the internet, I started blogging and that and writing for various Christian magazines have become my form of service to God. As the blogs and articles circulated, I realised that that was where the "throughout the world" part of the prophecies were coming from...

Apart from obeying God by writing, I realised that I burn with the desire to see the lost being saved and that I do indeed love people. Christian or not. Coloured or not. 

As I combed my hair, I realised that I must write more of Christ and His offer of salvation than focus on our many illnesses and the Corona Virus. Times are short.

I know some who read may take offence, but please recall that I do so out of love and nothing personal to gain. I want you to be saved from the imminent wrath of God for people who prefer to live in their sin than to repent and serve God.

This world is getting darker and very soon Jesus will be taking the Church- His Bride, to be with Him. This is known as the Rapture and only believers will go. 

My prayer is that you will go with us and not be left on this earth which is going to be hell on earth. I need to say it, before it's too late. 

I don't want you to be offended, but saved. God doesn't want anyone to go to Hell, and neither do I. Times are short as I said and we have millenia of prophecies that have come true  to uphold this.

One must be saved or born-again to get to Heaven. Jesus is the only way and that choice must be made personally and voluntarily. Either we accept Jesus and go to Heaven, or we go to Hell.

I have written this post for those who as yet aren't born again, because if I didn't warn you, I couldn't live with myself.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8

Heinous acts

heinous

/ˈheɪnəs,ˈhiːnəs/

adjective

1. (of a person or wrongful act, especially a crime) utterly odious or wicked.

   
   

   "a battery of heinous crimes"

   
   

   synonyms:

   odious, wicked, evil, atrocious, monstrous, disgraceful, abominable, detestable, contemptible, reprehensible, despicable, horrible, horrific, horrifying, terrible, awful, abhorrent, loathsome, outrageous,  shocking, shameful, hateful, hideous, unspeakable, unpardonable, unforgivable,  inexcusable, execrable, ghastly, iniquitous, villainous, nefarious, beneath contempt, beyond the pale;

With the advent of the latest abortion law passed today in New York which allows abortion of a baby for any reason until its due date,  and now allowing infanticide of a child up to 28 days after birth, I thought this word heinous described it to a tee.

To wilfully kill a child that is viable and days away from being full-term is murder, pure and simple. To kill it post birth is an abomination. I cannot fathom the depth of depravity of the carrier of the fetus- I refuse to call her a mother,  that she could nurture the life within her only to terminate it just before it comes to see the light of day. 

Not that the length of gestation matters because a person is a person from conception. But to feel that life within, to endure any hardship socially, physically or financially until the final hours of that pregnancy and then to kill that child beggars belief. I simply can't fathom it. The darkness of the mind of that "mother" is perplexing to me.

Furthermore, the very act of abortion at any stage not only brings death to the baby, but potential death to its carrier, and a very real grief in most women at some stage later in their lives. There is also an increased risk of breast cancer in women who have had abortions..At a late stage like the third trimester terminations, surely it would be better medically if the woman just gave birth and relinquished the baby?

Surely having endured a pregnancy with or without social or financial pressures and having felt the child's movements and steady growth, there would be some interest in the baby's future, and well being? Sufficient to birth it and give it up for adoption?  There are so many people longing to have a baby or adopt one, but sadly there are not enough children given the chance of life to meet that need.

I am flummoxed to understand how medical people can inflict such violence on innocents. Human life to them must be so cheap! And as they hold a new family member in their own arms, I wonder if the faces of suffering children they have destroyed come to mind, and if so, does it not move them? I suspect not.

I know I am not alone in feeling sadness, anger and dismay at the destruction of so many babies, and I also know that it strikes at the heart of most people, both saved and unsaved. But I cry for how Father God must grieve for each lost child and for their lost "mothers",  for a woman who can destroy her child on a whim is lost until or unless she repents and seeks God's forgiveness. 

I truly am in despair for the world right now. It has sunk to an all time low as the fires of Moloch on which innocent children were sacrificed reach an all time high.

Let us all pray for this law to be repealed and for the saving of the innocents. Let us pray for women tempted to utilise these heinous laws that they are given a heart of flesh instead of stone. For make no mistake, this heinous law is a crime against humanity and God. Maranatha! 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Thus saith the LORD that made thee, and formed thee from the womb, which will help thee;  Isaiah 44: 2

Teardrop babies.

WARNING- POSSIBLE TRIGGER FOR THOSE WHO HAVE LOST A BABY: 

Many years ago, my mother went to the hospital bleeding heavily during her 13th week of pregnancy. It was unclear on her admission if she had in fact lost the baby she had planned. She was laying in the cubicle awaiting results of the examination of her lost tissue to see if she had miscarried or not. It was in the days before ultrasound.

Eventually a nurse came in, winked conspiratorially at Mum and announced that it looked like she had miscarried. Her demeanour was like she was the bearer of good news and that Mum should be grateful that she was no longer pregnant. Mum just turned her face to the wall and cried.

As a young woman, I too had a loss of a much wanted pregnancy. At the time I conceived, I had to have an emergency surgery. I was so ill for so long after the anaesthetic that it dawned on me that it could be morning sickness. It was.

I prayed that I would not lose the baby but it was not to be. A few weeks after my morning sickness disappeared- and I was always morning sick the entire 9 months with my other babies- I started bleeding.

Eventually I lost my baby and Mum had advised me to keep any tissue I lost to show the doctor. I fetched out my lost tissue and found a little embryo, all curled up and just forming its eyes. I was devastated. 

I showed the little one to my then husband, who sniffed and said what a  silly looking little thing it was! Something inside me died and I went outside and wept for the baby who would join its stillborn twin sisters, Sarah and Ruth in God's nursery. I named it Leslie because that name would do for either gender.

Wiping my eyes, I thought about how precious these lives were and how sad most women feel when they never see the light. By far there are more women who grieve over the loss of a baby than who feel relieved or rejoice. I decided that I would call lost babies Teardrop Babies. For many would shed a tear over their loss.

No Teardrop Baby is lost to God and is known to Him and that brings me some comfort. All mothers of those babes will see them again if they know the Giver of Life. I believe that goes for aborted children as well. Many a woman who aborted a baby will suffer great anguish over that choice and if she repents, God will forgive her and show her His great mercy and grace.

No matter what people tell us about our lost Teardrop Baby being just a bunch of cells or tissue, we know that they were our potential son or daughter and we will grieve for them with many tears. Another reason I call lost babes Teardrop Babies.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them. Psalm 139:16

He knows the peddling has just begun

I think as parents, our children will always be children in many ways. We yearn to help them, we cry with them and for them, and we often would wish we could take a burden off them if we could. 

Similarly, I believe we are always God's child and He yearns for us and longs to help us. It is comforting to know that God is a good Father Who always loves us and has our back! Also, unlike our earthly father, He is perfect in His love and care of His children.

As any good parent would do, God allows challenges, grief and even suffering to mould us and give us character. It is often in these times that we find that He is there right beside us, encouraging and protecting us, and teaching us to trust Him.

It sure is comforting too, to know that no matter how many times we fall or fail Him, that He is there with His arms extended to us, waiting to forgive and comfort us. His Grace is deeper than our sin. His Love is tender and His Heart is kind. 

It certainly would be good if we didn't have trials to mature us, and we had Father God there to bless us and protect us constantly, but alas, we would not progress very far. We move forward and cannot exist on milk  forever, but we must eat meat. Eventually, our training wheels have to come off!

It is then that we gain confidence in God, and in our witness. I can just picture Father God smiling proudly as He watches us eventually have our training wheels removed and start to wobble through life towards Home; He knows that the peddling has just begun... 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Even to your old age, I am He, And even to gray hairs I will carry you! I have made, and I will bear; Even I will carry, and will deliver you. Isaiah 46

Thank You, God for forgiving me!

My mother died of dementia two years ago. My brother lived with her all his life,  so when she became ill, he became her carer.

Just before it finally became necessary for her to go into a nursing home, my brother had a severe heart attack and so Mum came to stay with us while he was in hospital.

I remember this chapter of my life so well, and it is a shameful time for me and one I regret. Forgiven, yes, but I can't forget the way I treated her during that week.

We had just moved into a new rented home and we were extremely stressed. Mum was missing my brother and was concerned about him. Every five minutes she would ask if I would ring the hospital and enquire about him. I would tell her that we already rang and they said he was resting comfortably after having a stent put in. 

I reassured Mum that as soon as he was allowed visitors, we would take her to visit him.Which we did. But still she fretted and wanted to go see him. After a while, it got very wearying.

The room where Mum was staying in had a holland blind that had chains for putting up or down, and when I took a cup of tea into her, I noticed the blind edge at the bottom had been pulled off. 

Not even unpacked yet, I was upset that already we had damaged  a new house. I realised that Mum had pulled it down instead of using the chain tracking. When I asked her if she had done it, she declared it wasn't her- it just broke. She was like a little child found with her hand in the cookie jar. To my shame, I was less than gracious to her. 

She was on medication for a urinary tract infection and half an hour after I gave her her tablets, she said she felt nauseous. I quickly ran to the laundry and grabbed a bucket for her, but she shouted at me that she was not going to use that... and promptly started gagging.

I quickly guided her to the nearby toilet and lifted the seat up for her, but she refused to vomit into the toilet and in fact swung her head from side to side, projectile vomiting all over the walls and floor.

It was all so unnecessary, and as I cleaned her up and then cleaned up the toilet, I did so in a bad humour. I asked her how hard was it to use the bucket I had brought to her and pointed out the awful mess that I had to clean... and as my fibromyalgia was bad and my spoons scarce, I was very ticked off with her and having to clean it up.

Mum hung her head, and said quietly, "Well I used to clean up after you!" It brought me undone. I cried and held her and told her I loved her. It was a good hour before I could stop crying as I saw Mum as she was- a woman in a child's body, scared of what was happening to her and scared of me!

Later, we were at the table and I was trying to coax Mum to eat. She was a stubborn woman with a will of iron, and as I cut her bread and butter up to make egg soldiers, I realised that she was losing her battle fast. Her body no longer knew how to eat. The long goodbye was getting shorter. She was dying!

I cried before the LORD when I was in the bathroom, torn between grief and guilt for losing my temper with Mum. I had never done that before or since, but I stayed there until I felt calm again and purposed to be kinder to her.

Fortunately for Mum, she had forgotten that I had been cross and happily did a tour of inspection of the new house, holding my hand in case she got lost. She didn't know how to get back to her room or kitchen.

Although Mum had forgotten about it, I hadn't and to this day, I still feel ashamed of my lack of patience. I know God has forgiven me, and graciously arranged that when she passed, she was holding my hand and peaceful. It was healing for me and good for her.

Even so, there are times when I am grieving for her that I wish I could live that day again. I would be much nicer and kinder. Thank You, God for forgiving me!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent. Psalm 71:9

Tell me something pretty!

In a film I once watched called "A Farewell to Arms", the Italian doctor was sick at heart with all the death and misery around him. He said to a soldier comrade, "Tell me something pretty!" He just wanted to hear something nice, something hopeful, something pretty! He was promptly executed for demoralising the troops.

Our world has been turned upside down, and there's illness, death and mayhem all around us. You may be like me, sick at heart and dismayed and long to hear "something pretty"...

I cannot change what's happening in the world that must come to pass, but I have something pretty for you to cling to- something hopeful, something true. We have a Saviour Who is coming to take us out of this world to live with Him forever.

He has gone to prepare a place for us where we will live with Him. There will be no more tears, no grief, no illness or sin. There will be no more goodbyes, no death, no funerals. Just peace and joy and worship. Lots of worship and joy. 

Our Saviour died in our place for our sins and today He lives forever in victory. He's a Lover- a lover of our souls and He dances over us in joy.

He invites the unsaved to accept Him and love Him and He yearns over us by His Spirit, wooing us unto Himself, longing for our union as His Bride, the Church- believers. Jesus longs for *you*

Through the Eyes of Love,  He sees us, a perfect Bride and His Father is glad that there is restoration between God and man. Restoration that came through the Blood of His Son.

I will tell you something pretty- no fairytale, though some may call it that- but a fact as sure as God Himself- we will soon be changed in the blink of an eye. We will be clothed with a new body that is eternal, and we will know Love unconditional, for God is love...

I will tell you the prettiest thing of all... it's love and joy and peace and hope and forgiveness  and grace encapsulated in one word: I will tell you something pretty- His Name is JESUS! 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God because God is love. 1 John 4:7-8

I couldn't live with myself

I have been grappling with writing what's on my heart lately. As a deep thinker, I ponder daily on what I feel God wants me to write about in this blog. I try to encourage and edify, but I know that sometimes what I speak of upsets some people.

As I looked at myself in the mirror today, I saw a woman whose life is spent mostly on studying the Word of God, praying and blogging in between bouts of chronic illness. It's all I can do now.

Writing's been a passion of mine for the last 30 years after three separate pastors at different services prophesied over me, saying that God has appointed me to be a spokesperson- actually the word was "mouthpiece" for Him throughout the world.

I really took this to heart and started writing Christian personalised verse and self published a book of poetry called "In Spirit And In Truth". It sold at various Christian bookstores, but somehow this didn't seem the way that I was meant to go...

With the advent of the internet, I started blogging and that and writing for various Christian magazines have become my form of service to God. As the blogs and articles circulated, I realised that that was where the "throughout the world" part of the prophecies were coming from...

Apart from obeying God by writing, I realised that I burn with the desire to see the lost being saved and that I do indeed love people. Christian or not. Coloured or not. 

As I combed my hair, I realised that I must write more of Christ and His offer of salvation than focus on our many illnesses and the Corona Virus. Times are short.

I know some who read may take offence, but please recall that I do so out of love and nothing personal to gain. I want you to be saved from the imminent wrath of God for people who prefer to live in their sin than to repent and serve God.

This world is getting darker and very soon Jesus will be taking the Church- His Bride, to be with Him. This is known as the Rapture and only believers will go. 

My prayer is that you will go with us and not be left on this earth which is going to be hell on earth. I need to say it, before it's too late. 

I don't want you to be offended, but saved. God doesn't want anyone to go to Hell, and neither do I. Times are short as I said and we have millenia of prophecies that have come true  to uphold this.

One must be saved or born-again to get to Heaven. Jesus is the only way and that choice must be made personally and voluntarily. Either we accept Jesus and go to Heaven, or we go to Hell.

I have written this post for those who as yet aren't born again, because if I didn't warn you, I couldn't live with myself.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

He has shown you, O man, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God? Micah 6:8

His Cloak of Peace

When my youngest child, Dianne had Acute promyelocytic leukaemia, she was dangerously ill and in ICU three times. At one stage her kidneys were failing. Her body was shutting down. 

They put her on dialysis three times and it was touch and go that she would make it through. You can imagine how I felt when they said they thought she was far too deteriorated to make it.

Naturally, I was asked to leave the ICU whilst they hooked her up, and to be honest, I just wanted to be alone. So I went down to the tea room for the patients and their family. 

It suddenly hit me that I may never see Dianne alive again, and the horror of the last few weeks during which she was on chemo and reacted violently to it, overtook me and I cried.

Slumping down in the corner of the tiny tea room, I gave my daughter to God. He had every right to take her Home, but being a mother, I asked Him to spare her.

Goodness knows, Dianne was only 35 years old, a wife, and mother to three young children. She was needed here. Although she was a Christian and I knew she would be with the LORD, I wanted her here with me.

I prayed fervently, agreeing that whatever be His Will for her, that He was God. It was worse than the despair I felt when I gave birth to still born twin girls at 32 weeks. Up until then, I thought that was the worst thing that I had experienced. But I was wrong. Losing Dianne was something I couldn't endure. 

Still slumped in the corner, I was overwhelmed with a peace that didn't make sense. Here we were in an emotional hell on earth, with Dianne's life hanging in the balance, and I was calm.

It was like a cloak of peace had been placed around my shoulders. It warmed me by routing the fear and it exuded a calm that permeated to my marrow.  I knew it was the peace that passes all human understanding that God promises to us.

Because I was calm, I found my legs could still carry me- they were giving way to me in the tea room. I returned to the ICU where Dianne was on the dialysis. 

I sat willing her to breathe and watching her breathing as if the very act  was too tiring for her. I kissed her hand and silently prayed whilst she slept.

Three days later, she was being taught to walk again on the floor of the ICU and her kidney function was restored.  Today, she is in remission for five years. They say it is extremely unlikely she will get APML back again...

This ordeal has shown me that we do have a Saviour Who is very involved in His childrens' lives. He is a good Father Who comforts His children when all else fails.

If Dianne had been called Home, I would not have lost faith in Him. But mercifully, He allowed her to live. 

The warmth of the Peace He gave me in my most extreme anguished pain, is proof to me that He is a God of His Word. He truly gives us peace that is beyond understanding.

Call on the LORD in your own anguish and see that He is a caring and compassionate Father.  There's nothing like His Cloak of Peace around your shoulders.

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:7

Telling it to our cat

As you probably know, we are in the process of finding a new rental to live in. We are currently living in a fifth wheeler, but I have torn my meniscus again and I cannot handle the seven steps to get in and out. I am practically housebound.

My mother passed away a year ago and I must say that I am still feeling her loss keenly. Coupled with my meniscus tear, exacerbated spinal pain because of the bed and stairs and pulled arm muscles from heaving myself up the three steps from the first level to the bedroom and ensuite, I have the Mother of all fibromyalgia flares with arthritis to boot. It has been one continuous flare since we moved in here four months ago.

My depression is compounded by the chronic pain which is constant and I have gained even more weight as I cannot move much. I am close to the Pit of Despair and something that happened yesterday didn't help me much either...

We had to go food shopping yesterday. Chris was bringing the groceries up into the fiver and I was slowly plodding my way towards the steps. A woman who has a caravan near us spoke to Chris then came up to me and offered me her hand as I painfully managed the stairs. I was so grateful and heartened that she bothered to help me. Not many people make the effort. 

At the halfway point wherein the flyscreen door swings out and one has to push it aside, I let go of her hand. I was telling her of the reason we were selling the fiver. At last I made it inside and I turned round to thank her, mid-sentence. She wasn't even there but I could see her almost at her caravan.

My feelings did a downward spiral as I realised I had been talking to myself and I felt again the loneliness of the chronically ill and disabled. From a fleeting feeling of respect and validation, I felt disrespected and my problems considered minor or of no consequence. The chronically ill or disabled will understand what I am speaking about.

We don't ask for constant validation and never ending compassion. We know that the "normals" who don't experience the pain and inconvenience of disease and disability, can't empathise, just sympathise. But what we do ask is that we be heard, respected and validated.  Nothing compounds our physical pain as much as being ignored, made fun of or marginalised. This is important to us..

The "normals" can even help prevent a trip to the Pit of Despair by showing a bit of interest and compassion to us, so please don't be like our neighbour in the caravan park who didn't want to know. 

I am not minimising the power of prayer, and we should pray and talk to the LORD, but we need another listening ear sometimes, but often people don't want to hear us and for all the good it does, we might just as well tell it to our cat. 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2

Have a good cry

So anyone who knows me, knows I am not a woman who cries easily. I am stoic and try to overcome my disabling symptoms. 

Yesterday, after seeing my useless and unfeeling doctor, I got home and the pain in my joints, the muscles tearing and the pain in my calf and back and chest reached a crescendo in a climax of searing agony. I just bowed my head and cried. Not loudly, but deep from within like a soda that's been shaken up and then uncapped. 

It was messy. It was wet. But it was healing. Finally, when I had cleaned up my face and wiped my eyes, I realised that it was OK to cry. And it was healing. The pain in my chest abated. I think an occasional cry is therapeutic.

So next time you fight back tears: don't. Let the healing tears come. Have a good cry. 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book? Psalm 56:8

God is a father

I think as parents, our children will always be children in many ways. We yearn to help them, we cry with them and for them, and we often would wish we could take a burden off them if we could. 

Similarly, I believe we are always God's child and He yearns for us and longs to help us. It is comforting to know that God is a good Father Who always loves us and has our back! Also, unlike our earthly father, He is perfect in His love and care of His children.

As any good parent would do, God allows challenges, grief and even suffering to mould us and give us character. It is often in these times that we find that He is there right beside us, encouraging and protecting us, and teaching us to trust Him.

It sure is comforting too, to know that no matter how many times we fall or fail Him, that He is there with His arms extended to us, waiting to forgive and comfort us. His Grace is deeper than our sin. His Love is tender and His Heart is kind. 

It certainly would be good if we didn't have trials to mature us, and we had Father God there to bless us and protect us constantly, but alas, we would not progress very far. We move forward and cannot exist on milk  forever, but we must eat meat. Eventually, our training wheels have to come off!

It is then that we gain confidence in God, and in our witness. I can just picture Father God smiling proudly as He watches us eventually have our training wheels removed and start to wobble through life towards Home; He knows that the peddling has just begun... 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Even to your old age, I am He, And even to gray hairs I will carry you! I have made, and I will bear; Even I will carry, and will deliver you. Isaiah 46

Embracing the new normal

Chronic illness changes far more than our bodies.. it changes our sleeping patterns, our intimacy, our family life, our home and our mental state as social occasions dwindle. It can make us feel helpless.  But there is something we can do to help us wring out as much enjoyment as possible from our life. However horrid, this new life is our new normal... so we must live it, not merely exist, because this life is the only life we are going to have. 

The only way we can move forward is to accept that we are ill, and that our life will change. Only through acceptance will we learn to find joy in the every day and to be victorious. In spite of our illness. In spite of our pain. It takes courage. Lean on Christ and enjoy the good in life now.. as is. 

Not as we want it to be. It is the only life we have! It is a horrible thing to have to do...but ultimately if we want to have any enjoyment of our life, we have to face it and accept the new normal... it doesn't mean we will ever be happy with our lot, but we will be happier if we accept it... our old life is gone- the life we have now is the only life we have...

I have had to accept that Chris pushes me in my walker around the shops: it was humiliating at first, but if we want to shop together, I have had to accept that I can't walk far anymore... We have been looking to buy a wheelchair for me... something I have resisted, but now I see that my life can continue pretty much the same if I am sitting in a wheelchair...

Yes, I hate it- I really do. It is humiliating, humbling, and embarrassing- but if I want to live my life as I like, I have had to accept it. Like with the walker at first, I think I will become more used to it. The first step is for me to accept that my new normal is different.. and then I have to embrace it!

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.  Psalm 90:12

A heinous crime against humanity and God

heinous

/ˈheɪnəs,ˈhiːnəs/

adjective

1. (of a person or wrongful act, especially a crime) utterly odious or wicked.

   
   

   "a battery of heinous crimes"

   
   

   synonyms:

   odious, wicked, evil, atrocious, monstrous, disgraceful, abominable, detestable, contemptible, reprehensible, despicable, horrible, horrific, horrifying, terrible, awful, abhorrent, loathsome, outrageous,  shocking, shameful, hateful, hideous, unspeakable, unpardonable, unforgivable,  inexcusable, execrable, ghastly, iniquitous, villainous, nefarious, beneath contempt, beyond the pale;

With the advent of the latest abortion law passed today in New York which allows abortion of a baby for any reason until its due date, I thought this word heinous described it to a tee.

To wilfully kill a child that is viable and days away from being full-term is murder, pure and simple. I cannot fathom the depth of depravity of the carrier of the fetus- I refuse to call her a mother,  that she could nurture the life within her only to terminate it just before it comes to see the light of day. 

Not that the length of gestation matters because a person is a person from conception. But to feel that life within, to endure any hardship socially, physically or financially until the final hours of that pregnancy and then to kill that child beggars belief. I simply can't fathom it. The darkness of the mind of that "mother" is perplexing to me.

Furthermore, the very act of abortion at any stage not only brings death to the baby, but potential death to its carrier, and a very real grief in most women at some stage later in their lives. There is also an increased risk of breast cancer in women who have had abortions..At a late stage like the third trimester terminations, surely it would be better medically if the woman just gave birth and relinquished the baby?

Surely having endured a pregnancy with or without social or financial pressures and having felt the child's movements and steady growth, there would be some interest in the baby's future, and well being? Sufficient to birth it and give it up for adoption?  There are so many people longing to have a baby or adopt one, but sadly there are not enough children given the chance of life to meet that need.

I am flummoxed to understand how medical people can inflict such violence on innocents. Human life to them must be so cheap! And as they hold a new family member in their own arms, I wonder if the faces of suffering children they have destroyed come to mind, and if so, does it not move them? I suspect not.

I know I am not alone in feeling sadness, anger and dismay at the destruction of so many babies, and I also know that it strikes at the heart of most people, both saved and unsaved. But I cry for how Father God must grieve for each lost child and for their lost "mothers",  for a woman who can destroy her child on a whim is lost until or unless she repents and seeks God's forgiveness. 

I truly am in despair for the world right now. It has sunk to an all time low as the fires of Moloch on which innocent children were sacrificed reach an all time high.

Let us all pray for this law to be repealed and for the saving of the innocents. Let us pray for women tempted to utilise this heinous law that they are given a heart of flesh instead of stone. For make no mistake, this heinous law is a crime against humanity and God. Maranatha! 

© Glenys Robyn Hicks

Thus saith the LORD that made thee, and formed thee from the womb, which will help thee;  Isaiah 44: 2