There is BEFORE… and then there is AFTER… Part 3

 

Sweet child of Mine ...xo

DO YOU THINK…

Do you think that I am over it
Better than before
Maybe I've forgotten
Doesn't hurt me anymore?

Do you think that I am doing fine
No tears are shed each day
Get up and just get going
Pain has all but gone away?

Do you think that I am coping
Living life just as you do
If that's what you imagine...
You don't have a single clue

I cope, I cry, and I deny
I've learned how I must hide
Keep everything within me
Bottled up deep down inside

I can't be who I was before
I've changed I'm someone new
It happens when you have a loss
You would be different too

I'm so misunderstood each day
To tired to explain
Not over it, or better

Simply put... I'm not the same

Author Unknown

Ten years ago, I could have been the one who wrote this crushing poem…but these are not my words. Still a part of me resonates, on days I feel I am entitled to share the pain- echoed in the verse.

I never set out to become someone, whose life has been focussed, on the nature of car crashes. Often I feel people would love for me to simply move on…yet the nightmares of my PTSD do not take a holiday…just because. 

In fact, the layers of my 3 posts this year- related to Shayla’s 31st birthday- are a good example of what happens when you have a loved one die in sudden, tragic circumstances. Still-even a decade later- it holds such raw, vivid recollections.

I’ve never forgotten what it was like to clean out her vehicle, the jaws of life evident, shattered glass, crushed roof and in the back seat, the open box of items that had spilled forward… as Shayla tried to make the deadly curve of the road.

I had warned her many times about the deadly road. There is some assurance after reading the Police Report there was no texting or cellphone involved. Yet I know what happened that day, unlike others who are often left with a question mark. 

That fateful day, the spontaneous trip to see a newborn baby born into her family, I tried to stop! 

There was a mothers intuition that morning when she called. I can still remember the knots in my stomach- sensors that I could feel going off. 

Over the years, I would awaken screaming, drenched in night sweat and calling her name.

There is a process a parent has to endure, when their child dies. 

The Before (how was I to know) to the After ( what more could I have done)?

I’ve had internal battles; oneswhere I wrestle with some sort of understanding that it does not matter the circumstances, but what was the final outcome.

In my sharing, as I type this in the dark- I look back on what I have posted….how car crashes are preventable, that treacherous roads are meant to be changed, and no one can possibly pen your own sorrow- to your heartbreaking story. 

In sharing about my own disorders and things NOT inherited (alcohol and drug addictions), it is to say how I am still vulnerable and imperfect, in other ways.

I’ve learned to heed the enemies luring and I am always mindful and blessed that I never went on a journey of alcoholism or drug addictions. In divulging this, it doesn’t make me better than those who face their daily battles- if anything I’ve been far more empathetic to that kind of pain! I realize how easily, I could have in my life, numbed the pain and succumbed to it! 

I’ve spent 50 years trying to fix those I love in my family, only to realize how much I have suffered, because of it. 

Therefore that door that swings out in front of me, always tempting to call me in during times of trouble…I fold my hands in prayer and ask to remain free. 

If anything I've known, it is that I have a much stronger thing in my life that doesn't make things easy...but it does make my journey possible. 

In the past few days of writing, I’ve honoured my daughter’s fun-loving nature, the strong bond that we shared, I’ve spoke of her dancing and what her dreams were, and also what they would never be. I have connected with her light, but also been gripped by her loss.

The pin my daughter created for us xo

I stay up, every year late, just on the cusp of the 24th- to remember what it was like to give birth to my babygirl.  On what would be her 31^st Birthday today, my heart has a hole in it. Not because of what I have endured, rather because I was born this way. I find it fitting that my heart never closed at birth. This is the same heart that saw my daughter hear the beats of mine, as God knitted her together in my womb. 

Shayla would enter this world with her own strong heart and then one day... hers would stop.

I wasn’t sure of all the emotions I was feeling leading up to these three posts, yet upon finishing my prayers and daily Bible reading, I realized the changes in me of who I was on that first birthday-

…After…

February 24^{th 2012} three months following the day my daughter died 12/12/11, until now…came from somewhere deeply rooted in me…a need to better embrace healing (in whatever form that is) and hold tight unto my faith.

I speak of addictions, because I have witnessed, how my own loved ones dealt with their grief. 

I flip back and forth in my bereavement; some days are far better than others. Sometimes, there is a realization that I haven’t cried about her, all week... and then the guilt leaks into that hole in my heart.

Yet having a space to freely write- without caring about Likes and thumbs up/down, has allowed me to learn who I send my words too, who I trust with my pain and who deserves an explanation.

In composing this lasting 3^rd part tribute, it will not find its way in some emails or texts, because I never want someone to feel obligated to be part of my pain. Ask any grief-stricken parent- how difficult it is to pull away from the layers of darkness- to open their windows to the light and they will be blunt in saying, they often find more comfort -in the shadows.

To offer a comparison of what I am feeling at the moment , I  want to speak of the light that offers hope. I have decided to share the best gift I can give myself today. It does not come in a box, or a spectacular cake… it is not a river of tears flowing down my face. No, today’s gift comes from the light within me, the spark that was my daughter and connected to our beliefs…this has never been extinguished!  The light lives on in many things that overflow in its blessings. 

If anything these past few days of sadness, reflecting, forgiving, and making peace within have reminded me…it is of how good it feels to share with the world that its okay to fall inward….as long as we have someone or something to catch us on the way down…

Turn on the Light By:  Xochitl Dixon

Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

Matthew 5:16

Our Daily Bread Scripture & Insight:

Matthew 5:14–16

As my husband and I prepared for a cross-country move, I wanted to ensure that we kept in touch with our grown sons. I found a unique gift, friendship lamps connected by wireless internet, which can be turned on remotely. When I gave the lamps to my sons, I explained that their lamps will turn on when I touch my lamp—to provide a shining reminder of my love and ongoing prayers. No matter how great the distance between us, a tap on their lamps would trigger a light in our home too. Though we knew nothing could replace our more personal moments of connection, we could be encouraged by knowing we’re loved and prayed for every time we turned on those lights.

All God’s children have the privilege of being light-sharers powered by the Holy Spirit. We’re designed to live as radiant beacons of God’s everlasting hope and unconditional love. When we’re sharing the gospel and serving others in the name of Jesus, we become brilliant spotlights and living testimonies. Every good deed, kind smile, gentle word of encouragement, and heartfelt prayer produces a beaming reminder of God’s faithfulness and His unconditional and life-transforming love (Matthew 5:14–16).

Wherever God leads us, and however we serve Him, we can be used by Him to help others shine His light. As God, by His Spirit, provides the true illumination, we can reflect the light and love of His presence.

The first thing that came to me after wiping away some tears, was how absolutely wonderful it would be, if when a loved one passed away, they had with them one of these brilliant lamps! On special days, like birthdays and holidays, I would simply touch my lamp and Shayla would know I was thinking of her. 

To be honest, I would be tapping 24-7 and that is not what I need to be focused on. 

The beauty in all of this, is not how much I've suffered...rather in how much I have loved ❤ 

After reading this, I envisioned the Creator of the stars and the space between. How the light -sharer within, has me look upward to the Heavens and amongst the infinite galaxy, my babygirl looks upon the earth and sees the spark… that is still her mother.

Each of us, whether we know it, feel it or understand, are beacons of light to one another.

Even in the void of our world, we can still connect with kindness and empathy, especially when we find our own shine… begins to slowly dim. 

I don't have all the answers, to why a mother or father have a child(ren) pass away, yet I know how I was transformed because of it. 

I have then used my gift of writing to share my faith...and my pain. 

I understand who I was ten years ago and how much of the upheaval throughout my life, has deepened my relationship with the Lord, now. 

I say again, I am not perfect- especially as a believer. Yet I pray if one person reading this, is helped by me expressing my vulnerability, I am humbled by that.  

I am also not ashamed to share with the world the power of the Gospel, among the layers of who I am. The love I have for my enemies and even the realization, one single day of my life, showed me the strength of my future... it is here, the light burns brightest within...and sees me overcome...even when I feel lost.  

By TL Alton 

A Different Kind of Love Story Part 2

 

Happy 31st Birthday in Heaven Babygirl Xo

Pulling into the parking lot , I turned off the key and sat for a moment. The rosary swinging from my rear-view mirror, was a perfect example of the past and the present circumstances. I leaned forward, to catch a glimpse of the neon lights, filtered through the raindrops on my windshield. With a crumpled $20 bill in my hand, my eyes were averted away from the two choices I could make. One door, had ties to my family already infused in addiction, the other door, would lead me to nourishment- the kind my already ailing body truly needed. I’ve been in this situation countless times over my lifetime…When I was abused, when my daughter died at 21, when I walked away from the one man who had taken my heart and crushed it, and when I was living last year for 7 ½ months in the very same car now, I was parked in.

Feed the Devil’s desire or feed the soul. It really is that simple. This night would not be any different. Getting out of my vehicle, I walked past the Liquor outlet and into the Grocery store. Every time I do, I imagine the enemy slams a fistful of fire down, seething in defeat.

As my daughter’s 31^st birthday approaches, I take a stroll with grief, down memory lane to birthday celebrations past. The one’s filled with laughter, presents, cake and surprises. In reflecting on Shayla’s previous birthday festivities that included concerts, circus school, face painting and even bungy jumping; the spark that she was, always set the place aglow. Her joy was shared with others in such a way, she erupted with glee across a crowded room. If ever she found herself lost in a group of people, Shayla would raise her voice in such away, she was never missing for long.

Growing up, my daughter followed in my footsteps of being the class clown. To her, laughter was medicine. I remember our very last trip together, just the two of us, going to Disneyworld. When the airline lost all of our luggage, Shayla pulled out the video camera in our hotel room and with a smirk she said: “This will make for some interesting footage!” In the three days that followed, when ever I was too serious, she would bounce her way in front of me and say: “Momma…turn that frown, upside down.”

The first year, after she passed, I recalled being in a support group of grieving parents and as we went along, we were supposed to say what was the one thing we missed the most about our child?

I remember looking up with tears etching my mascara lines down my sad face, I asked: “But how am I to chose just one?”

Over time, my bereavement journey has seen me go through the pyramid of emotions. I have clung onto  the hands of other parents, whose children have died. I’ve screamed over a frozen reservoir what felt like shattered splinters of my broken heart. Now And then, I read something, which I feel was written just for me - only to realize that I am joined by many parents, who have also suffered such tragic losses.

Often its simply realizing the sheer anguish your drowning in, may need an anchor to guide you...

Sometimes, I am gifted precious moments from the past. Like this year, I rediscovered things in my archives, on my laptop. While more than often, my response to these past experiences, are often met with the same immeasurable sorrow, I still carry. Then there are the occasions when interwoven in the multi-facets of my grief journey, is a balance of light that surfaces.

As I viewed the short clip I discovered on Shayla’s computer called “DJ Kitty,” I knew I had to post it just on its own.

Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, or you do not find it funny, however when my daughters voice can only be heard and her imagination creates a cat scratching DJ , it makes me yearn to have one more conversation of silliness with her that we revelled in.

For a moment, the video clip takes the sting away and I can simply press replay, in order to view a little of what she left behind. For every snapshot I have of her, I yearn to relive the many flashes of when time stood still for me.  

Unfortunately, after Shayla died, she became a part of something that I wish no parent to go through…having their child’s death being viewed on the daily news.

In the 10 years since her untimely death, I have shared how I received the horrible news that Shayla had died. It was on-line, where I first discovered her passing. Even before a Policeman came to tell me, I already knew my 21-year-old daughter was dead.

Alone in my basement suite, I felt an urgency to go on-line to the local Okanagan website and I saw a news ticker saying the person who had been in the submerged vehicle at McKinley Reservoir, had succumbed to her injuries. To my utter shock, a reporter had climbed the hill overlooking the car wreck and made the painful decision to begin filming, my worst nightmare.

To this day, as I type…that horrid image in seared into my memory.

Even after my strokes, I can still recall where it lingers on-line, as many others have clicked to see the hole... where my babygirl perished.

That day- December 12, 2011, I believe the writer in me and once reporter, died in away that I cannot explain. I vowed to never be so detached from the human connection and never so hell bent to get a story- that I forget my oath- and further traumatize those who are actually part of a devastating tragedy.

In the news that followed and the Candlelight Vigil that I held in Shayla’s memory, there was a reporter who covered many of the events- including “One Crash Is Too Many,” which was created by Lawyer Paul Hergott. https://www.onecrashistoomany.com/

I am deeply grateful for this site, blog, advocacy, and platform to bring awareness to the prevention of car crashes. Mr. Hergott has been a legal columnist for the Kelowna Capital News since January 2007.

In covering the news, I learned firsthand, being part of the story connected to Shayla brought out the protector in me. Part writer, 100 % mother, I was fierce in wanting to ensure proper information was getting out. There’s the old saying about being too close to a story and this was my Achille’s heal. In looking back, I am certain I would have questioned God himself, if he were composing any newsworthy story about my daughter. This created a need for me to take a step back and review something again from a different perspective.

When I found an archived video from a gathering in Kelowna, BC Commemorating the National Day of Remembrance for Road Crash Victims,  it was with fresh eyes that I was able to appreciate the reporting of a young woman named Jen Zielinski and the important message of “One Crash is Too Many.”

 I am grateful for her valuable time and efforts she gave to ensuring my daughter’s story was shared.

Seeing myself being interviewed briefly, is as if I now was looking through shattered glass- every inch of pain visible to the camera’s lens.  

 National Day of Remembrance for Road Crash Victims took place for the first time in the Okanagan on November 22, 2012.    (Video Source: Jen Zielinski)  https://youtu.be/yQw4-KGGJgE

 As a facilitator for a faith-based bereavement course I once led, I know firsthand that grief simply put…can be darn right ugly. After my daughter passed away, I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

In re-watching the video 10 years later , I still whole-heartily agree that “One Crash IS Too Many.”

 One thing though has never changed….I also cannot forget that it sadly took Shayla’s tragic death and car crash, to ultimately bring safety changes. The treacherous road saw 17 people over a 20-year span- have accidents on it (everyone miraculously surviving) and still nothing was done to fix McKinley.

This is also where I agree to a point of saying that Yes, Shayla’s death was preventable in many ways…including what happened the day of her own tragic loss.  The amount of time I have spent uncovering details, The Coroner’s Report, going over the pictures of her car crash and reading Police reports…won’t ever bring my daughter back.

“One Crash Is Too Many” did have a lasting impression on me!

Something Paul Hergott said, which has stayed with me… and that is simply prevention in losing precious lives.

After my daughter passed away, I would discover some more unsettling news about McKinley Reservoir.

 Turns out that body of overfilled water, waited for Shayla, to claim her years before- but was unsuccessful-when she was only 16 years old.

Shayla was dating someone. One frigid night, as her boyfriend drove his car on McKinley Landing, something caused the vehicle to leave the road and enter a shallow part of the Reservoir. His vehicle was not fully submerged but required a tow truck to pull them out. I was never told, and it became a family secret- without me being privy to it, until after my daughter perished.

 Upon hearing this, I was upset thinking how terrified she must have been, alone behind the wheel on that December 12^th, 2011 day, when her car crashed into the frozen waters.

 Years later, I was struck with the sheer realization that had Shayla died at 16 years old, I would have been robbed of the additional 5 years I did have with her…an incredible gift of life had been given to me!

 It has taken my efforts of visiting the area, many times- in order to make peace with the waters, to see that her death was not in vain. The consolation I get now is knowing that because of Shayla, others are being kept safe on that stretch of road and around the reservoir.

 Ask me then, how much frustration I feel, when I am standing there at the reservoir and I begin to count…One, two, three….half a dozen vehicles flying at high speeds on the very same road… forever changed by the death of someone, whose life was given for it.

 I used to say if not my daughter…then someone else’s child.

I’ve snapped photographs of vehicles who see me and while some slow down, many have speeded up- as if to say it won’t ever happen to me!

 I have wanted them to understand how in a moments snap of the fingers; your life can change.

Also,  I would never wish upon anyone, the pain of what its like to have outlived your only child.

 As with my grief journey, my understanding of “One Crash Is Too Many” has evolved. To where its key point of every crash is inevitable, also includes my daughter’s car wreck. Re-watching Paul Hergott’s videos and re- reading the blogs message; gives me more insight to a matter that is critical to all of us on the open road.

 Over the years I have been asked many times…how do you ever get over the loss of your only child?

For me and many others, the answer is simple: You don’t!

 Life was never meant to be spent alone without your loved ones and this goes without saying I am excluding Covid-19, as I am speaking of my own loss, many years prior.

 At times, my faith journey has surpassed my despair.

As I have experienced another side of bereavement; that offers hope and comfort, in my beliefs and has also seen connection, in the most unexpected places.

 There is another side of grief, which is not always spoken of and given the spotlight it deserves.  

 As a mother, I have to acknowledge how grief can find you seeing connections in other beautiful ways .

Despite my anguish, I have learned about a different kind of love and finding solace, in unforeseen situations.   

 Since she was a little girl, Shayla breathed not in air, but in song.

 As a child, while some playmates joined in sports, Shayla was at ease with handstands, splits, and twirls.

She learned various forms of dance and took part in lessons, as well as performances.

 Everyone knew how much her passion for dancing also included the love of children.

She would have enjoyed having her own studio to teach wee ones, the splendor of dance.

 Over the years, I have shared how Shayla’s passion included everything from hip-hop to jazz, ballet, lyrical and contemporary; Shayla had a hidden soundtrack wound around her soul. Whether in the car, on the subway, or just walking down the street- when ever she felt the beats of music inside, she broke out into dance!

 When a local schoolmate died, she choregraphed a routine. In front of friends, neighbours, and strangers, she let every inch of his loss, guide her in a poignant, lyrical, flow that embodied the overwhelming sorrow- she felt.  It was her way to express her angst and pay tribute to a young 19 yr. old man- who died too soon.

I have never forgotten watching her take on the cloak of bereavement and dance with her invisible partner of heartache. Looking back, it was as if her old soul, was showcasing for me…what was yet to come.

When putting together this birthday post, I was googling images and quotes to include. One night, I was up late and after a search, I stumbled upon rather remarkable that made me take a deep breathe in…something so profound and relatable, the tears begin to form, as I write.

 In sharing, it will be apparent what it is that caused me to pause and let my heart-link to the beauty of what could have been, but never was…at least not for my Shayla.

 Please click on the safe link here and read: https://www.centrestagedance.com/about2-c22fx

 Another bond between us, was to those less fortunate and those who had disorders. I believe as Shayla grew up; her life was impacted by my own mental health. When I enrolled in a Wellness Course called B.R.I.D.G.E.S to become a facilitator, my daughter enrolled in a support course, to better understand my Bipolar.  This helped us to connect even further and develop a different love story. This was one where acceptance and compassion had a home, among the uncertainties.

Many years later, after my daughter died, I harboured guilt in the form of a parent who had a ‘mental imperfection.’ Just as I wish I could erase that deadly road away; I felt the same of my disorder that also wrecked havoc in my life. The irony now, when no one is in my life, I have managed my Bipolar for the past 20+ years. I know what this would have meant to Shayla and how she would be proud of me.

 Recently, one of our favourite music artists ~ P!NK released a video with her daughter Willow Sage.

I thought of how my sweet Shae would call me to say…”Momma, this is OUR song!”

 Cover Me In Sunshine: P!NK and Willow Sage Hart: https://youtu.be/vGZhMIXH62M

With my recent health issues related to my stroke, brain bleed and other private matters, I look onward to what this 31^st Birthday of hers, means to me. I am reminded of how my daughter is shining in Heaven, dancing with Jesus and how still in a song, a coincidence, a story…she lives on…

she waits for her momma to be welcomed home to join her…where finally all of the broken things… can find their seat at the table.

By Tonya L. Alton

PRELUDE ~ DJ KITTY By Shayla Part 1

 In honour of my late daughter's 31st Birthday upcoming on February 24th, I share a rare gem of a video I discovered in her archives. Shayla loved to laugh, but most of all...she loved to make others laugh :) 

As I work on my Tribute Blog Post to my daughter, I simply wanted to post this short video first. There needs to be sound on as around the minute mark, my daughter starts talking in the background... xo

Less of Me, More of Him

 

I am writing from a place of brokenness…the one in my Brain where I have had an Aneurysm on the right side of my brain. Nerves have been affected, to where my daily thoughts are muddled, I am dealing with forgetfulness, agitation, stuttering and a flood of emotions that overwhelms me. In writing this blog; as always there is a purpose. I literally have to re-read every line due to memory loss and having a difficult time focusing and just because my brain is smashing together words, I don’t even know if this is making sense? My MRI and CT Scan showed my recent attack on my brain and all that came flooding upon me is…If I were to die today, would my readers know what my faith means to me? So, in between battling blinding headaches, hazy thoughts, and fatigue, I want to share about the one who reigns for all of Eternity and all the Love I have received from the Chosen One.

For me to share the battles that really were of the Lords, I have shared that I haven’t always been faithful, I’ve not always been victorious and certainly I’ve known my fair share of sinning. This blog post is not a confessional; because Jesus has already given his life for the sins upon I cross. In my fingers typing slowly, I want others to know that no matter what has been stripped away, I am saved because the keeper of my Promises reigns on…no matter what reasons/doubts the enemy tries to place upon me, I have been witness to miracles that I never thought possible.

#LessLikeMe #ZachWilliams #ChristianMusic

Zach Williams - Less Like Me (Official Music Video) https://youtu.be/fkYL1b7MCEw

 

To share how challenged I am to write this, I have over a dozen post it notes, each scrawled with purpose, to help me to string this post all together. Yet, I trust in the one who placed every word upon my heart…the one with a hole in it.

All of this has seen me overwhelmed in dealing with things that my brain is so fixated on that it has caused me additional stress. A good example of this is after 7 years, I needed to provide a change of address. I paid $70 and expected my mail to start filling in my new box, yet despite my former Postal office saying they are sending my mail, I have not been receiving it. This is frustrating because my brain goes into overthinking mode and I feel besieged by one of the things I feel I should have control.

In rereading my sentence, it is glaring with the one thing I’ve spent my life fighting- Control. In every aspect of my life…this is the one thing that has caused me to spin out of-  there is a lyric line from the song “The Getting Through” by Judah that says:

Take me to my troubles

And teach me again

That you don’t build a bridge

So I can just get over them….

Cause maybe the point is not getting over

But getting through

Cause when I surrender …All my Trust is fully in You.

For me, walking over a bridge, takes on a whole new meaning of God loving us; as opposed to someone who is bent on hurting us. With all that is going on with my brain, I am in awe of what I am focussed on. Much like the crack in my hope chest that really is amazing it is still in one piece- given all of the times I’ve moved with it- I think of the flaws in my life.  The ones where two doors were present.

Behind Door# 1: Salvation and Behind Door # 2: What I was willing to sacrifice for it.

The ghosts of my past have taken me down some darkened alleys with the shadows of the enemy waiting.

To say my faith has not been shaken is to speak of lies. That is why I have to respect the truth, when it echoes back to me that my boundaries have been broken. I am reminded how God still remains the keeper. When I feel lost, ashamed, rejected and torn…Christ remains faithful protector over me.

Even when the world does not understand me and I cannot see clearly, I am led by a faithfulness greater than who I am.

Recently, someone confided in me that do not believe they have ever received Mercy for the Lord. In an instant, I am transformed back to the breakthrough of when my own journey with Christ began.

In all of my trails and tribulations, I came to understand that the fires raging around me, cannot consume Jesus within me.

Looking up at the Poinsettia that was gifted to me before Christmas….I recall someone once saying to me: “I hope you Truly come to know Jesus.” Much like the vibrancy apparent in this plant still thriving- months later…I take a stand in my reply that the evidence is here: “You don’t survive what I’ve endured, without realizing just How much I AM Loved and TRULY knowing Jesus.”

In the core of my serving, it has seen me through being displaced without a home for over 7 months. In surviving a stroke, an Aneurysm and a PFO, I have come to understand that my body has suffered more than I realized. Despite the heart pain, the blinding headaches and forgetfulness, I still convey through my posts to an hourglass world, that Hope is being ignited within each of us.

I’ve overcome and with every breath I have held my readers, my dearest ones in my prayers. No matter what- if you’re a foe or friend- I have held your name upon my lips and asked for blessings over you – ‘because we cannot pray for the homeless and forsake the wicked.’

As a Christian, it helps me to refocus on others; so much so that the day I do die, I hope my hands are in prayer.

For I am only as strong, as the faith I believe in!

I believe the Heavenly Father created me with a purpose- whereas the enemy has scored my heart with pain, I will boost at knowing Christ at the cross.

That stone that was rolled away from the Tomb, is one that I give Praise that a dead man was raised and walked again!

As Valentine’s Day approaches, I think of all the wounded hearts out there- those broken, whose stolen innocents come in the form of Human Trafficking, daily childhood abuse, those whose wrists are being cut and the woman who have fallen prey to night stalking predators, if even one post has covered you in Love- His love, then I can give testimony how I am still- despite everything- not beyond repair.

For me, My Valentine does not present itself with a box of overpriced chocolates and false words of impure love…No, the one who has my heart overflowing with blessings, is the one who has stood at the beginning of time, opened his loving arms, and welcomed me into the purest passion of all- the one that comes from Christ himself.  

A Woman – Amy Grant (feat. Ellie Holcomb) https://youtu.be/yFHFT5OUbss

 

By Tonya L Alton