Tag Archive | God

It’s been almost a year, Ishy

July 8, 2015 will be one year since you left us, Ish. A lot of stuff has changed in the last year – and surprisingly little at the same time. If you were here, you would know exactly what I mean, despite your young age, as you would be 6 years old as of last December. You would have started school this year. I always wondered why my gut didn’t tell me it was time to start  preparing you for your start in kindegarden – now I know that God knew you would not be here.

Your dad is healing, as you know. He’s WP_20150210_10_04_09_Pro healing every day. We both miss you but he’s more…emotional about it than I tend to be though I miss you just as much. We have a “Wall of Ish” in our new apartment – you’d love this apartment – so much more room for you to Tigger-bounce around in.

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WallofIshaq44 I’m sure you remember these – you completed them in preschool and I wish I had you around to watch you learn more and more about the planets you were clearly interested in – and you had such potential. God, Ishy, though I would NOT bring you back even if I could – and in many ways, envy you already having passed this life and graduated into your new home, I still miss you so much. I trust you are taking care of Jude and visiting with your grandpa who, though never having had anything to do with you while you were alive, has likely reached a new level of understanding far surpassing my own. While you were on earth, you had nothing – and you had everything. You really ever had one home, as we moved around a lot and were homeless often, but you had two parents who would both have happily have lain down dead for you. We did our best, taught you right, didn’t let you get away with just any old thing. You were so smart, honey. We miss you every day.

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You and me in Chico, California on a hot summer’s day (hence the heightened darkness) in front of the book store we went to for the purpose of accessing the Internet.

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Also in Chico, at the park. This is a picture I created with you and Daddy long before you went to be with God. So glad I still have it.

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You laying in the leaves at Aunt Joanna’s house in Iowa City, IA, you playing with Shay, your cousin.

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One of few family pictures we have from our time in northern California, this one at that motel we stayed at for months. You remember- you locked yourself in and sat there laughing at us while Daddy climbed in tiny little window to get to you. LOL You were really something, my son.

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You sitting on my bad at the Torres Shelter in Chico, CA, working on your letters and numbers. You were so smart, Ishy.

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You sitting on the bed pretending my remote was a phone. You were sucha little card. 😉

I walk past your memorial site all the time. It’s still right there, where you died. There are 2 giant bears and two smaller ones. People come by all the time; I know because I can see when they’re changed around or set back up or whatever. Ishy, though you didn’t meet too many people, you made people love you. Not hard at all, my son – very easy, in fact.10421279_10152696447426256_1167706044977691652_n The lady who sent you to heaven is in a program for felons called COMCOR. We’ve gone to her family’s house and broke bread. We’ve spent time together with her son who was about a year younger than you. You and he and his cousin would all have been wonderful friends.

Daddy and I haven’t changed all that much. Our way of life has, I guess, but our attitudes are much the same; we still like spending time together talking like we always have since we met.

I can’t wait to come home, Ish. I can’t wait to spend time with you in your current form as I know it will be different by the time we see each other again. I still hope to meet you brother, Karl, and your sister, Katrina, again once they try to find me and I still believe they will.

I will see you soon, honey. Keep a spot open for me and Daddy.

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All my love,

Your Momma

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Peace of Mind or Piece of Retribution

Hello, Friends!

Six months ago, my husband and my life changed forever. Our much beloved son, Ishaq, was killedV__2860 and my husband severely injured when they were struck by a car on a dangerous road going way too fast. The driver was going too fast, tried to over correct and came at them at more than 50 mph and killed Ish immediately. Raphael (daddy) was thrown more than 41 feet back into the parking lot. Suffice it to say that his tibia (shin bone) was sticking through his skin (which is why I won’t show you the picture – it’s REALLY gruesome) leading to amputation of his leg below his knee. His pelvis was an “open book” fracture (which means that the front area that protects the bladder was completely open, setting his bladder outside of the pelvis). His right shoulder was also broken, requiring surgeries and pins. His femur also had to have pins put in it from the 2 breaks it sustained. WP_20140712_09_25_19_Pro 10537127_10152114973671256_4655963110831394502_n

Losing Ish was a huge blow – he was our pride and joy and like all parents, we would have died for him. Raphael and I were married 3 years before Ishaq came along – although we’d never really planned for children (spending most of our time homeless or in and out of hotels and me being 36 to Raphael’s 46), having Ishaq come into our lives settled us in a way that’s hard to define as it just came naturally. It was easy to open our loop just a little more so that when things happened to us, it happened to him too. We were able to stay together when we were homeless in Chico, California at the Torres Shelter. We were all moved to Iowa to stay with my sister and we were all together when we took a bus to Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Ish as a baby 318755_1999848122427_1343497036_n  Mom and Ish Daddy and Ish

Ish made us better people. We’ve always tried to be as godly as possible, not in the traditional Christian sense as it’s taught in the church but in a real way, a way that makes us more peaceable and ready to serve. We’re nowhere near perfect but we love each other and others, or in the words of my husband,”We love – that’s how we roll”

Two days after Ish was killed and Raphael hurt, I received a message from the girl who hit them. She begged me for forgiveness and I, by the grace of God, immediately did so. I didn’t give it time for thought – I just said yes. I/we spoke with television stations, newspapers and just last month, Story Corps, affiliated with NPR http://storycorps.org/?p=56810. Everyone has been amazed by our reaction. Forgiveness, it seems, is a stranger concept. Everyone has someone they can’t (or won’t – it’s a fine line) forgive – a parent, a friend, an ex, someone. I freely admit to having a very rocky relationship with my adoptive mother. I have recently made significant strides towards doing that as I want no hypocrisy in my life but had this horrible tragedy not happened, that probably wouldn’t have happened. Ishy (my nickname for him) changed so many lives, touched so many hearts in the 5 1/2 years he graced this world with his presence.20140711_120127 Through state after state, shelter to shelter and town to town, Ish made an impression on everyone he came across. When Ish died, I stopped thinking about suicide (have been suicidally-inclined virtually my whole life) and have been amazed that the thought has not once been considered in the 6 months he’s been gone.

We’re going to miss Ishy for the rest of our lives but we have been blessed to have had him in our life the length of time we did. We live our lives for God. We are best friends, talk about everything. Sometimes we get angry with each other but we forgive quick and go back to our normal life quick. We’ve taken new friends into our lives since the accident; the community having come around us. We forgave her immediate, the both of us, and it seems no one understands why. Like we’re some odd specimen of human no one has seen before. We’ve found ourselves in the position where we had to defend the killer of our son, so much hate has been directed at her. Some seem to think that the story is made up as they racially profile us (we have Muslim/Jewish names), hameedbut mostly they were heartbroken for us, contributing to the Go Fund account we set up to pay the bills until we could figure out the next step http://www.gofundme.com/Ishaq-Hammed–Family. It’s taking so much longer than we would have liked but I’ve been taking care of him this whole time. I am not being paid for it, though that was the plan. But it doesn’t matter, we just have to trust God to keep us safely and I’ll be danged if he doesn’t do it month after month.

Forgive whoever you have a problem against – doesn’t matter who’s fault it is. Remove ego and you’ll find it much easier. God bless you!

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The Church’s Role in Homelessness

I have noticed a pronounced elevation in spiritual conversation, with spiritual subjects (such as a 90 year old man going to jail because he broke man’s law and fed the homeless (God’s law)), his defiance making the news, even getting “promoted” on late night television shows. This is an example of comedians making a point – as humorously as possible (and yes, it cracked me up, too).

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But, think about it, when Jesus was on earth, was he famous everywhere? Or was he famous only in places where he could provide someone with a meal, with healing, with raising from the dead? If he hadn’t been able to do any of those things, we’d have never heard anything from or about him – ever.

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We need to retrain our brain; find our peace with regards to what we believe and whom and gear our mentality around that, not with a closed mind as so many churches do, allowing the government to tell them what they can and can not preach. What they can and cannot do with their churches, etc. The church is suppose to be akin to an EMT or Firefighter- on call and ready to respond to whatever crisis arises. The church’s responsibility is to put their words into practice, not for tax breaks and to be seen of men, but to take care of a problem that’s only getting worse as everyone fights about whose responsibility is ISN’T. If people weren’t sitting around hungry and cold, it’d be no big deal having churches full of people every week, preaching to each other; however, that’s not the case. There are hungry people. Feed them.  There are homeless people. Shelter them and find a way to get them on their feet, starting with the ones who are willing and ready to  help you help them. Children should have a home. Stop being so lazy and apathetic and do what you need to do. Stop worrying about the cost. Don’t you think that God will give you what you need if you’re doing what He told you to do? Besides, the reward far outweighs the cost, no matter how expensive it gets (and there are rich Christians so put your money where your mouths are). There shouldn’t be mega churches when there are so many people needing help, so if you have one, I expect to see the homeless population drop and if it doesn’t, then you’re not doing your job.

Yeah, I know. Who am I am why do I feel I can talk to anyone like this. My name is Heidi. I can’t do much, I’m too (financially) broke, but I can run my mouth like anyone can and I have the spirit of God in me and a lot of time to think about stuff. So, this is what I think about, how to make the church better, from WITHIN because it’s a fact that our own worst enemies are usually ourselves. I have to use the skills and talents God gave me, too, or I can’t say anything to anyone.

This is what I want you to think about:  is this contrast right – and how can you fix it ?

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or

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More importantly, which one do you think God sees as first? Why could you not join them together (combine) so that people are no longer homeless and the buildings are put to actual good use?

Can I get some feedback?

Hello, everyone! giphyI’ve been being told for some time now that it’s time for me to write a new book. This one is for the purpose of reaching those that society tends to forget, i.e., those without money, influence, hope.

I’ve only written one book; uh actually make that PUBLISHED one book, View from Within the Spirit and frankly, although it was important for me to do it (no one can take away the fact I was/am published), it basically went over like a lead balloon. lead balloon

I’m a thinking person. I’m a person of little self esteem though its not BAD self esteem. This is to say that I realize I have intrinsic value. I think that a word I could use in describing myself is self effacing. I’m one of those weird people who are extremely aware of themselves, having been homeless a lot and therefore had lots of time to self evaluate. Having done so, combined with the love and leadership of my mate and husband, I’ve come to recognize the good side of myself – and the bad. I have trouble thinking too much of myself because I’m so aware that thinking too much of myself is tantamount to arrogance and one can’t be humble and arrogant at the same time.

Now that my husband, Raphael, who was horribly injured in a car accident 3 months ago (at the same time our son was killed) is disabled, I have shitloads of time on my hands. I can’t go out and find work because I’m full time caregiver to him and I can’t just sit around all day and do nothing, having been working since I was “knee-high to a grasshopper”. So I write- or would if I could just remove the barrier that’s standing in front of me.

What barrier you might ask? Why the one brought about from a life of being me, a pathetic childhood, my own being Heidi and who knows why else. Unfortunately, that’s the best way I can define it. If I could be more definitive, I would be.

Which brings me right back to the point of writing this blog. I’d love some feedback, given there are so many writers in here.

What’s the best way to do it? Should I write it as non fiction? Should it be fiction so that it’s more interesting to people. Sermons are boring (who here has gone to church and ended up going to sleep through yet another sermon?) while tales are moderately more interesting and can be just as informative.

I welcome your input, for real. I thank you for your help.

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I Miss You, Ish

163964_10151330205586256_63114518_n  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.

299147_10150316549316256_1843186379_nWhen I focus on your face, mentally, I can almost feel you close enough to touch. I remember how it felt to hug you and want it again; for you to be in my arms again, so badly!!

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,

Your Momma

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**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

Grief and Moving Forward

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).

Mom and Ish Ishy Daddy and Ish

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.

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If I walked into the middle of the street, naked, would you notice me then?

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. sam and dean in  jail 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!

The rest of the day they’d be wailing, “I’m bliiiiiiiiiiiiind, I’m bliiiiiiiiiiiind!”  I'm blindGetting into 20 car pile ups and walking into walls! 

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 hitting the wall

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. Viewfromwithinthespirit  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.

 Daddy and Ish   

Ishy 

Mom and Ish

I tend to be a self beater.  Self BeatingNot 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! I-Love_U1