Hope is My Middle name

Hope is My Middle name

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Nov 5, 2015
Years before I began recklessly pursuing God, I hung a poster on my bedroom wall. Its words were a lifeline dangling into the abyss of my sin. “Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see (Hebrews 11: 1)." That I hung it on my wall was out of place at that time of my life, yet somehow the words captivated me. After the death of my 4th baby, I decided that if God was real and good, He would have to show me, because I didn't believe it. Not wanting to rely on hearsay, I poured myself in finding Him, through reading in the Word and praying every morning. I wasn't going to believe in somebody else's experience of Him. I wanted to know for myself. He showed up. This story doesn't start yet though. Two years into seeking Him daily, we found out I was pregnant on Thanksgiving Day of 2007. She came unexpectedly early--at 23 weeks gestation. The story begins! Join me as I walk you through our journey of believing God over all we were seeing, hearing, and feeling. You will be challenged and encouraged to have faith in whatever you are walking through today.
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It started when the rain fell. As it hit the windows rhythmically, I fought my sleep. Fighting off the demons in my dreams. I hadn't realized how real that dream became. Waking up to terrified screaming. My heart racing, the lighting striking and my family begging for their lives. I claimed myself as a coward that very same night. I hated myself. My depression became the best of me. What's worst then your family being slaughtered? Hiding in the closet from the killers. I should've helped, I should've been there for them. The pain between my chest and stomach was growing guilt. So I started thinking smart. Looking at everyone differently. I decided to reopen their cold cases. And when I found the truth it hit me deep.

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