Justin's bedtime story tonight:
Once upon a time long, long ago but not too, too long ago there was a neat forest. AND, there was a girl named Goldilocks and her friend Little Red Riding Hood. And of course they were with Bugs Bunny. And they were walking. And there was a witch (insert scary shiver and crazy eyes). And the witch had a house. And they threw a boy in the house. Then they threw the witch in the house too. And she was in some goo.
THE END.
I hope you can all sleep better tonight now that you have had your bedtime story.
the boys
Friday, August 19, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
I lived to tell about it, and so I will.
I have been reading 90 Minutes in Heaven which is a true story about a man who died in a car accident in the late 1980's and was dead for 90 minutes before coming back to life. He was brought back to life by the power of prayer and the grace of God. If you don't believe it is true or possible, I encourage you to read the book.
As you may know, I had my own experience with heaven and dying a little over twelve years ago (http://sothisismy30s.blogspot.com/2011/06/fancy-fainting-part-2.html). I was dead for just under one minute and my experience with heaven was brief but wonderful beyond words. God wasn't ready to keep me yet, but I am forever grateful of the glimpse of what is to come.
It is comforting to me to read the book for several reasons. First, Don Piper's experience in heaven was much longer than mine and therefore much more detailed and extensive. I can only think of how lucky he was to have seen more.
I also have a good friend who had a similar experience. Several months before I wrote the blog about my heavenly experience, I randomly mentioned it to a friend of mine who then told me that she, too, had died and experienced heaven several years ago. I hadn't mentioned my experience to anyone in quite some time. She had stopped telling anyone about it because the response she received was less than supportive. But somehow and for some reason she and I shared our stories with each other out of the blue. She recently had a close family member pass away. I know now that God opened up our discussion to reinforce to her that heaven is real and hopefully help her work through this difficult time in her life.
It just makes me wonder how many people are experiencing the joys of heaven, even though temporary, but shy away from sharing their story in fear of rejection and ridicule. And wasn't I kind of one of them? I never doubted my own experience, but I was so prepared for others to doubt it that it was easier to keep to myself. I don't know why I write "was so prepared" when really I remain in that place. I continue to be prepared to defend my experience instead of just letting it be. Letting it speak for itself. Those who want to hear it will listen. If I'm lucky, those that don't want to hear it might listen and it might make a difference.
I didn't mention it to anyone for several months after my experience. Then I started feeling out a few friends to see how the information would be received. Again, very similar to Don Piper's experience in the book. Like Don, the more people I told the more I realized people were very open to the information. Then in about 2001 or maybe 2002 I was speaking at an America Heart Association event which I often did in those first few years after my heart surgery. I am guessing there were a couple hundred people in the room. My typical speech was one of "it could happen to anyone" sort of theme. I was a seemingly healthy and active young adult who experienced a serious cardiac event that almost took my life. But as I spoke I kind of drifted off my usual speech and found myself telling this large group about my experience in heaven. I know now that it was God's hand pushing me to share the joys of heaven with this group. Afterwards I was sort of self-conscious that I had branched out from the topic at hand and perhaps the organizers of the event wouldn't be pleased. After all, it was not a religious gathering. It was a fund raising event. I was pleasantly surprised to be approached by many people after the event thanking me for sharing my experience.
So like a small child, with that positive reinforcement I began to repeat my behaviors. I started telling a few more people, and then a few more. I was living in Alabama at the time and people don't shy away from religion down there. They embrace it. It was easy to start sharing. But I was still sharing in comfortable settings. I was sharing in places or situations where I knew the information would be well received. Even telling this story via my blog is a relatively safe way (emotionally) to share it.
As I read Don's book I felt like I was reading my own story. I could relate to so much of what he experienced. His recovery was WAY more difficult than mine in a physical sense. He was in the hospital for months and has undergone dozens of surgeries. But somewhere in the midst of his recovery he began to understand that God left him in this life for a reason and a purpose. That purpose is to share the experience. I am encouraged to do the same. Reading his book has brought me to a renewed sense of peace and understanding about my experience with death and heaven.
I lived to tell about it. There are not a lot of people that can say that. I lived to tell about it. And I will.
As you may know, I had my own experience with heaven and dying a little over twelve years ago (http://sothisismy30s.blogspot.com/2011/06/fancy-fainting-part-2.html). I was dead for just under one minute and my experience with heaven was brief but wonderful beyond words. God wasn't ready to keep me yet, but I am forever grateful of the glimpse of what is to come.
It is comforting to me to read the book for several reasons. First, Don Piper's experience in heaven was much longer than mine and therefore much more detailed and extensive. I can only think of how lucky he was to have seen more.
I also have a good friend who had a similar experience. Several months before I wrote the blog about my heavenly experience, I randomly mentioned it to a friend of mine who then told me that she, too, had died and experienced heaven several years ago. I hadn't mentioned my experience to anyone in quite some time. She had stopped telling anyone about it because the response she received was less than supportive. But somehow and for some reason she and I shared our stories with each other out of the blue. She recently had a close family member pass away. I know now that God opened up our discussion to reinforce to her that heaven is real and hopefully help her work through this difficult time in her life.
It just makes me wonder how many people are experiencing the joys of heaven, even though temporary, but shy away from sharing their story in fear of rejection and ridicule. And wasn't I kind of one of them? I never doubted my own experience, but I was so prepared for others to doubt it that it was easier to keep to myself. I don't know why I write "was so prepared" when really I remain in that place. I continue to be prepared to defend my experience instead of just letting it be. Letting it speak for itself. Those who want to hear it will listen. If I'm lucky, those that don't want to hear it might listen and it might make a difference.
I didn't mention it to anyone for several months after my experience. Then I started feeling out a few friends to see how the information would be received. Again, very similar to Don Piper's experience in the book. Like Don, the more people I told the more I realized people were very open to the information. Then in about 2001 or maybe 2002 I was speaking at an America Heart Association event which I often did in those first few years after my heart surgery. I am guessing there were a couple hundred people in the room. My typical speech was one of "it could happen to anyone" sort of theme. I was a seemingly healthy and active young adult who experienced a serious cardiac event that almost took my life. But as I spoke I kind of drifted off my usual speech and found myself telling this large group about my experience in heaven. I know now that it was God's hand pushing me to share the joys of heaven with this group. Afterwards I was sort of self-conscious that I had branched out from the topic at hand and perhaps the organizers of the event wouldn't be pleased. After all, it was not a religious gathering. It was a fund raising event. I was pleasantly surprised to be approached by many people after the event thanking me for sharing my experience.
So like a small child, with that positive reinforcement I began to repeat my behaviors. I started telling a few more people, and then a few more. I was living in Alabama at the time and people don't shy away from religion down there. They embrace it. It was easy to start sharing. But I was still sharing in comfortable settings. I was sharing in places or situations where I knew the information would be well received. Even telling this story via my blog is a relatively safe way (emotionally) to share it.
As I read Don's book I felt like I was reading my own story. I could relate to so much of what he experienced. His recovery was WAY more difficult than mine in a physical sense. He was in the hospital for months and has undergone dozens of surgeries. But somewhere in the midst of his recovery he began to understand that God left him in this life for a reason and a purpose. That purpose is to share the experience. I am encouraged to do the same. Reading his book has brought me to a renewed sense of peace and understanding about my experience with death and heaven.
I lived to tell about it. There are not a lot of people that can say that. I lived to tell about it. And I will.
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Real Househusband of Kansas City
We've all been there. A little birthday celebration after a long week. A few too many cocktails. And then the truth comes out. Sometimes the truth hurts. And sometimes it's just the truth.
In my case, I spent the better part of the 40 minute car ride home last Saturday night explaining to Jeremy how our house needs to be cleaner. Or is it more clean? I'm going with cleaner. While I don't necessarily recall the conversation, per se, his recollection is that I had a bit of a rant about the dirty windows and baseboards in our home. The truth hurts.
What is also true is that I am fortunate enough to be married to a man that not only actually listened to my drunken tirade while driving my drunk ass home, but took it to heart and went on a cleaning spree this week. What can I say? The man likes to clean. (Thank you, Eva) He takes pride in his work. (Thank you, Kevin)
He called me three times at work on Monday to describe the specialized cleaning products that he purchased and advise me of his progress. The minute I got off of work he called to tell me how clean the kitchen floor was and proceeded to tell me about it all the way home. Once I arrived home he was like a child on Christmas morning. He could barely contain himself as I walked up the stairs to see his handy work.
That evening I actually heard him talking to himself as he reviewed his work: "It's a good start, Jeremy. A good start."
Jealous yet? It gets better.
On Tuesday, he spent all day steam cleaning our carpets. He moved every single piece of furniture in our living room, dining room, hallway, and bedroom for a deep cleaning. The house smelled AWESOME when I got home.
The more I think about it, I think we could slap some high heels on him, give him a boob job and some lip implants and he's got his own show: Real Househusband of Kansas City! It would require some serious electrolysis but I think we could make it work.
Anyway, I have decided I should get drunk and go on rants more often. Or maybe I should just repay the favor and start on the windows......or I could do all 3. Get drunk and go on a rant WHILE cleaning the windows. Yup, that's my plan.
(Bonus photo of Jeremy vacuuming with Leo in the baby sling.....which is why Leo has always called it "daddy's vacuum")
In my case, I spent the better part of the 40 minute car ride home last Saturday night explaining to Jeremy how our house needs to be cleaner. Or is it more clean? I'm going with cleaner. While I don't necessarily recall the conversation, per se, his recollection is that I had a bit of a rant about the dirty windows and baseboards in our home. The truth hurts.
What is also true is that I am fortunate enough to be married to a man that not only actually listened to my drunken tirade while driving my drunk ass home, but took it to heart and went on a cleaning spree this week. What can I say? The man likes to clean. (Thank you, Eva) He takes pride in his work. (Thank you, Kevin)
He called me three times at work on Monday to describe the specialized cleaning products that he purchased and advise me of his progress. The minute I got off of work he called to tell me how clean the kitchen floor was and proceeded to tell me about it all the way home. Once I arrived home he was like a child on Christmas morning. He could barely contain himself as I walked up the stairs to see his handy work.
That evening I actually heard him talking to himself as he reviewed his work: "It's a good start, Jeremy. A good start."
Jealous yet? It gets better.
On Tuesday, he spent all day steam cleaning our carpets. He moved every single piece of furniture in our living room, dining room, hallway, and bedroom for a deep cleaning. The house smelled AWESOME when I got home.
The more I think about it, I think we could slap some high heels on him, give him a boob job and some lip implants and he's got his own show: Real Househusband of Kansas City! It would require some serious electrolysis but I think we could make it work.
Anyway, I have decided I should get drunk and go on rants more often. Or maybe I should just repay the favor and start on the windows......or I could do all 3. Get drunk and go on a rant WHILE cleaning the windows. Yup, that's my plan.
(Bonus photo of Jeremy vacuuming with Leo in the baby sling.....which is why Leo has always called it "daddy's vacuum")
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)