I miss you, Ish. Every day when I wake up, I expect to see your face looking at me, lying next to me, and when you’re still not there I grab your pillow- the one you wrote on- and hug it to my chest, pushing it to my nose like I do to capture any smell of you that might exist. This morning was no different. I sit and look at pictures of you and the art you completed in preschool and I wish you were still here.
Your Daddy is healing physically. He cries for you a lot. It’s really hard not having you here. Your Aunt Joanna and cousins are planning to move out here to Colorado once their school year is out. Claymore took your death really hard. They all know; some understand better than others. Michael and you were the same age, pretty much so I don’t think he understands but Trevalyn and Shalandria know as well.
I don’t know why this happened, sweetheart. Why you and Daddy were hit. Why you were killed. Why Daddy was so badly hurt. I don’t know why God allowed you to live only five and a half years. Maybe He’ll tell me some day.
I love you, Baby Boy. Most days I manage to get through. I laugh and joke and talk to people. I think of you all the time. I’m disappointed you never got to meet Karl and Katrina, your brother and sister. A thousand times a day things happen that make me want you to be around to see and learn. Daddy and I must utter “Ish would have…” ten times a day.
I know you’re with God now. We’re on our way; don’t know how long it’ll be but Daddy and I will see your amazing face again. I’ll never say Goodbye to you, only See you soon.
I love you forever,
**When God Called You**
We little knew that morning
God was going to call your name.
In life we loved you dearly.
In death we do the same.
It broke our hearts to lose you,
You did not go alone,
For part of us went with you,
The day God called you home.
You left us beautiful memories.
Your love is still our guide.
And though we cannot see you,
You are always by our side.
Our family chain is broken.
Nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one
The chain will link again
– Ron Tranmer
Life can change fast, can’t it? You will likely understand why I ask this as you read. Please give me some room and forgive any errors I have made. Thanks so much ❤
Been thinking over my “writing career” for a few days lately. My brain is tired; I have imminent time on my hand as I spend 99% of my day at home with my husband. Three months ago (has it really been that long), my son and husband were walking home from the store while I was at work (the first real paying job I’d gotten since I came here to Colorado in 2012).
Thirty minutes after I got home at 10:30 pm., two police officers and a bunch of grief counselor people showed up at my door and informed me that my husband was in surgery and my baby (5) was dead. As anyone would, I freaked out and screamed and cried for maybe 15 minutes. They wanted to take me to the hospital so I called everyone I knew, snapped into practical mode and for the next 2 weeks, dealt with Raphael in a medical coma for the first 6 days of his hospitalization (unaware of Ish’s passing), setting up the funeral arrangements, and all the other things I had to do. Friends surrounded me and helped me set up funds for living and strangers came out of the woodwork to help make sure I ate and then I had to move to another apartment so that Raphael could eventually come home (wheelchair bound). His entire right side was tore up from his shoulder which was badly broken to his leg which had to be amputated below the knee.
It is now months after our sweet child died. Raphael’s physical being is healing up. He’s about ready to start physical therapy and eventually to be fitted for a prosthesis. Emotionally, we’re hanging in there as well. Some days, we’re almost normal; other days, it’s nearly impossible to get out of bed. Not having my Ishaq around; the thought of facing another day without that amazing boy, is more than I can bear, but I have to move forward. I have to be the strong one right now, though Raphael is always in my corner is very sensitive to me.
Now that things are evening out, I am thinking ahead to where I need to earn a living, some kind of way. With taking care of Raphael day and night, I need to find a way to earn a living, preferably out of the home. Writing is what I want to do but alas, I fear the spark is gone. Maybe it’s fear; maybe it’s God saying I’m not meant to write; maybe it’s fear (oh, I think I said that; must be true!). Can I write? What direction do I want to take my work? Am I delusional to think I have stuff in my soul that others might want to read? I don’t know. I guess time will tell. I have a whole lifetime, minus my third and youngest child, to try to make the rest of my life mean something and honor the little boy who filled his father and my life so meaningful. He’s missed so much!! As to my writing? Only God knows (literally) whether or not I’m supposed to write or even if I CAN write.
I have been trying to find a way to get attention. Yeah, I said it…I need attention like a cab driver needs a fare; like a surgeon needs a patient; like we need God.
From what I’ve observed over the last few years, there are two primary way to accomplish this goal: there’s the legal, straight-as-an-arrow-method or there’s the point-a-gun-and-demand-your-money-now-approach. The latter is (obviously) illegal as hell but highly effective, particularly if you aren’t caught within the next five minutes. As I have been, for 40 years, I tend to cling to option number one; I have two things that keep me from following after option number two: a super sensitive conscience and a healthy fear of that small a room. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, particularly in these end days, but the ones who walk the straight and narrow- usually fall by the wayside. In this day and age, if you don’t have connections or money- you don’t get seen. You could walk into the road, stark naked and people would just continue to go about their lives, either angrily honking their horns and swerving or perhaps start throwing money for me to PUT MY CLOTHES BACK ON, DEAR LORD!
I’m an author and a writer; I have been both for a long time; long before my book was published, but not long enough for anyone to notice or, frankly, for me to develop the self esteem or killer instinct needed to be a good salesman. I started out in school, writing stories and such, like almost anyone who’s ever attended school. And I loved it! I found a wonderful outlet for my inner turmoil. And I’ve been writing ever since. I never thought that I would ever be able to publish a book – I simply never considered it because I thought I wasn’t “good enough”. My husband told me I should try to publish my memoir, View from Within the Spirit, and so I did; first I tried New York Literary Agency and they liked the book. After a period of time and no one bought it, they sent it back and I started the process again. Someone told me about Publish America on Face Book and I went to them. The creating of the book, binding, cover, etc., was done by PA; the selling – getting people to buy it – was up to me and without a person to help, I SEE myself as a hopeless failure, though my husband totally disagrees and says I ought not to feel or see that way;that the book got to whom it needed to: friends, relatives, etc. I’ve never known him to be wrong about this kind of thing so I guess it’s ME that needs the work and the patience. I just hope that God opens the door for it to be read, bought and bring in a royalty to help us out before we end up homeless yet again. Naturally, the primary question is WHY SHOULD I BUY FROM YOU and truth be told, there isn’t a reason in the world that you should…But I still hope you will. Hell, you have $20 to go to the movie, you can buy this book (through Amazon). You spend more than that on a bikini wax and this book might just tell you something that you need to know, the information or ideas far beyond anything you can get thinking only of earthly, temporary stuff; give you an idea on how to live that you never considered before.
I hate selling because I hate pissing contests and you can’t have one without the other. I hate selling because I am just a poor woman, blessed with an incredible family and all I want to do is provide for them; give them a safe place to live and room to run around in. I’m not trying to get rich- could care less about that- wealth has it’s own drawbacks. I’m just trying to provide, that is all.
I tend to be a self beater. Not in the physical sense; in the emotional and psychological sense.Hitler, Mussolini, neither of these men am I (thank God, right?!). They might have been (what we deem to be) evil incarnate, but it wasn’t for a lack of people-power but rather misused powers of persuasion. I don’t have that problem. From the time I could stand, talk, form sentences, I’ve always blended in. When I was child, my sister and I were in foster care. She’s 15 months younger than I am and I was always her protector. As I grew older, I came to see that “attention” was overrated and started to retreat into myself. I was already getting “disciplined” <i.e. spanked with an inch-thick metal ruler> for sins that I might or might not be guilty of, depending on what it was and I have a very low threshold for pain so NOT being seen was better than BEING seen. As a result of being a foster kid, then an adopted kid with very little ability or permission to vent or release pent-up emotion, I learned to be a “wall flower”. I’m not even 100% sure that’s a bad thing; I only know it won’t help me when it comes to selling my book(s). I know I have talent-convincing others of it is what the problem is. I don’t stand out in any particular way. Maybe this is destiny; maybe it’s just the way it is but I’ll never know unless I try. I have two primary things in my favor: I’m a child of God, fully assured of my salvation even though I don’t deserve it and I’m stubborn as hell. When I decide to do something, I’ll keep doing it, visible rewards or not.
I’ll end this with a dare: I dare you to visit my webpage and sign the guestbook…I really do dare you. I will get back a hold of you, I promise. http://hijoyhameed.webs.com/ is the address. See you there!
Way back in 2005, A television show came on that basically changed my life. It was called Supernatural and it was a show about two brothers, trained by their father, John Winchester, who travel across the United States killing demons, windigos, shape shifters, etc. Yeah, sounds weird, right? But you know what? The actors were sensational, the story line compelling and I was like a bug being drawn to a lamp post – only in a non destructive way. No- this show was spiritual to me from the get-go.
The brothers, Dean and Sam Winchester, played by Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, will stop at nothing to keep each other safe. Life has handed them a curse- their mother killed on the ceiling of their house; later Sammy’s girlfriend is killed in the same way. The culprit? Azazel the demon, then called “the yellow eyed demon”.
For the last 8 years, I have been watching this show. I think about it constantly. I reference it, meditate on it, add the pictures to my phone and desktop. Yeah- addicted I most definitely am.
I’ve struggled a little bit with this. We who serve God are not to have idols before us. To make sure I haven’t done this, I’ve made sure I’m connected with my Father. Some people might not think it’s a big deal- I’m not one of them. I love God. I love my brother, Yeshua. Though I don’t have to prove it to anyone, I want it said right out. We, who are human, have a million ways of justifying ourselves, our choices, ect. I try hard not to do that because we’re supposed to be more honest than that. God knows…MADE…our hearts and He is fully aware of what we do, how we do it, why we do it. As a result of being aware of this, I do my best to be faithful and true, though I slip all the time.
I want to lay out, as best as I can, what I love about this show and why it’s so…SPIRITUAL for me and I’m going to let them do it for me:
This scene made the hair stand up on my head:
This scene made me sob, because as the Bible says, “Greater love has no man than this…”
This scene made me cry because Dean reaps the consequences of a deal he struck:
This scene gave me hope because the story could now continue (very closely related to first scene mentioned)
***What I’ve added isn’t even the TIP of the iceberg where this fabulous story is concerned. Sammy getting addicted to demon blood, an unknown brother popping in- and out- of their lives, secrets, mysteries, HUMOR (OMGosh this show is hilarious!), sadness, joy. As Season 9 approaches, I pray that it continues the way it’s gone for 8 seasons. Some of the content I’ve agreed with, some I have not. I have my own faith; I guess what speaks to me the loudest is that they aren’t afraid to go “there”. Demons, creatures that go bump in the night. Enochian books and letters. Angels assisting them in a totally righteous endeavor even if they fall apart and get back up.
This morning as I sat on the bench, waiting for the bus, I looked around me and thought about the day I was facing, sitting here in Colorado Springs, looking at the Rocky Mountains.
As always, when I look at those mountains, not that far away from me, I realize yet again how much I love this place. See, as a lot of you know who’ve read my stuff, I’ve moved around a lot! I’ve been from the east to the west and back to the middle. I’ve lived in various towns in each state, especially Iowa, but you know? I find that aside from Maine where I lived as a child and still hold in high esteem because of whatever reason, I like – no, make that LOVE – Colorado. It’s beautiful. It’s peaceful (yes, of course they have crime here but thus far, I’ve managed to escape any physical harm that could come to me or my family- thank you to my God who holds me in the palm of his hand) and I could easily live out the rest of my days right here in Colorado.
And another thing that passed through my mind is how much he loves me…how much he loves YOU! I remember the old “I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much” when we were kids and seeing our own kids do it and you know what? I think that’s what God’s trying to say to us.
Yes, he hates sin and injustice- no question- but he also loves righteousness and people with neighborly hearts. He loves it when we put ourselves to the side and reach out to people who need a hand up. God has a passion for us- far above what we could ever ask or think. When Jesus came to earth to live a life for us to learn from and take those lessons to live our own lives, He did that so that we would never have to face what he was going to face FOR us. We, as human beings, even as human beings perhaps raised in the church can and will never fully understand this concept because our biggest fear might be dying of cancer, getting chewed up and spit out of farm machinery and those things might be excruciating at the onset but they are temporary pain that will end and be remembered no more; the pain that Jesus dealt with was a direct result of himself- a righteous man – taking on the punishment of millions, perhaps trillions of people, the vast majority of whom would not even appreciate -or care- what he did for them. That totally blows my mind. THAT’s LOVE, ya’ll. It’s not some squishy feeling and fast beating heart…it’s the knowledge that our HUSBAND, who is the Lord, paid the ULTIMATE sacrifice for us so that we would be granted “diplomatic immunity”.
For our human understanding, it would be tantamount to our lawyer going to prison for us…that’s such an amazing thought.
And he wants you to know; he’s caused me to know that he did it for YOU. He did it for ME. Doesn’t MATTER if we believe it; doesn’t matter if we ever do anything about the knowledge; it happened whether or not we believe. He did it because he wanted to do it, because it was part of THE PLAN.
Ok, well, I’ve run on long enough and you know I could escape an opportunity to put Dean and Sammy on here if I could get away with it. Gotta feed the addiction cause I LOVE my Supernaturaland find it to be one of the most awesome shows EVER!!