May 18, 2017

Looking back

            With the growing physical problems came a new problem.  Memories long buried started coming back and even memories I had became graphic to the point of pain.  At times these memories seemed more real than what I was going through at the time.  Nightmares became daymares and I struggled with being where I was at times.  Memories from my childhood were confirmed and I became beyond weeping.  Memories from Navy days became so real I could smell and hear what had happened.  I once again was piecing together the man I cleaned from a jet engine.  I once again was on the flight deck watching a friend cut in half by a jet.

            So many memories, so much pain.  I tried to dull the pain with alcohol and killed the bone marrow in my body.  Bleeding to death they discovered I had ITP and was given three months.  But a high school friend’s mom took me to a prayer group and I not only was healed but found My Love, Jesus Christ.

            Now Jesus helped me work through these memories even as the pain increased.  Slowly I grew weaker and less able to serve First as they deserved.  They were so loving and supporting.  But day by day the pain grew. As I preached the pain grew and I would vomit.  Unable to make it to a place to throw up I learned to swallow it.  My pain continued to grow.

Wednesday May 17

            Once again I get up at 3 in the morning.  My eyes are burning so I try the tea treatment.   I listen to the first half of Hosea and have my prayer time.  I use Prayer Cards of peoples in China and Muslims.  I also use my good bye letter to First as a prayer guide.  Prayer is something I can do and I try to make it methodical because the pain makes it hard to concentrate.

            I find it hard to watch some of the shows I used to like because of the blood and violence so I now watch old mysteries and science fiction movie I watched as a kid.  They are diverting and help.  I also listen to music some.

            Years ago the Lord used an old Sesame Street song to help me learn to “Sing, sing a song”.  So as the pain gets bad I find myself singing songs or even making songs up.  When Dad was suffering I taught him this and it helped him also. 

            The rest of the day was painful but I kept doing little things hoping I would be tired and sleep good tonight. 

            Still waiting to hear about disability so we can find us a place.