I met the I AM; the same I AM that spoke to Moses, instructing him. (Exodus 3:13 Then Moses said to God, “Behold, I am going to the sons of Israel, and I will say to them, ‘The God of your fathers has sent me to you.’ Now they may say to me, ‘What is His name?’ What shall I say to them?” 14 God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM”; and He said, “Thus you shall say to the sons of Israel, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” 15 God, furthermore, said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the sons of Israel, ‘The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.’ This is My name forever, and this is My memorial-name to all generations."
He audibly spoke to me and I have never been the same. I have heard some say that meeting the Lord in such a significant way costs them greatly; the worst experience of my life and the best. It almost cost me my literal life, instead I have a physical reminder; a painful daily reminder.
I cannot place my experience in a tidy little theological box and tie it up with a pretty bow. I have many questions and wonder if I will ever have their answers on this side of the veil. Why? What happened? What did it mean? Was it an attack to take me in an untimely death? Was it prophetic in nature? Although I have all these questions swirling around in my mind, September 2004 (now a decade), since my life was forever changed, there is one thing I do not question; that is the voice of the I AM. The same God that created the heavens and earth and all in it, the God who created the visible and invisible, the God who has all authority to simply speak and creation happens, heard my cry and rescued me from death. He spoke and all order came into place. His voice carried ALL authority, ALL power, ALL order. He is my God and I will serve Him all the days of my life.
I have grown up in the Lord, all my days. I was given to God in the womb, dedicated to Him as a baby, baptized in the Spirit at 3 years old with my older sister who was 5, during a time of worship with my parents. My walk with the Lord was “common” to me and I thought every Christian knew God and knew His presence, heard Him speak and experienced Him in real ways. It was just our life. When I was around 4 years old my dad heard me crying in the back of our old station wagon. Playing on the 8-track was the song from Prepare Ye the Way, “Behold the Lord’s Hand not So Short”. My father asked me, “Nettie, why are you crying?” Having 4 little girls he figured someone had pulled my pigtail. I just cried and said, “The Lord just wants His people to return to Him.” This was nothing I conjured up or made myself feel. God for whatever His reason, has given me a deep love and call to His people; those who have walked away from Him, grown cold, forgotten Him. It’s bigger than me and goes beyond my human drive. It is what the Lord has given me and I can’t take credit for it, can’t make it go away, as it burns within me.
My heart cry is still the same. I want Christians to know their Father; to love Him with all of their hearts, to not settle for the mediocre Christian life and to walk in the Spirit and come into their callings. Over the course of my life the enemy has attacked this, my own flesh has rebelled it and yet the Lord remained patient and faithful to me, even when I was not faithful to Him.
I feel privileged to have grown up the way I did, saturated in the Word, in prayer and worship. As a child my faith was so strong. I saw it and believed it without any doubt. When I was about 5 years old I laid hands on my dad while he was getting ready to go to the hospital because of a migraine and God allowed instant healing. When I was 8 years old I would lay in bed waiting to hear all my sisters heavy breathing, signaling they were asleep so I could weep, because I simply missed God and wanted to be with Him. I would cry out, pray in the Spirit and weep, begging the Lord to let me see Him, to open my eyes. I didn’t understand as a kid and didn’t know the two were related, but the Lord poured out His love and Truth to me in that year. I would wake up speaking other languages, beautiful truths of God that were far beyond my intellect, other times I would wake up to the most beautiful fragrance. Beautiful doesn’t even describe it, there really isn’t words to describe the perfumed air. But it was strong enough to wake me up and I would go searching for it, smelling my bedding, my sisters’ hair. I would go downstairs and try and find the fragrance. It was nowhere but everywhere. I look back on that and realize that was the incense in the throne room of God.
Many more experiences in the Lord like this but I walked away. God knew I would, and He knew I would come back. When I came back, God reminded me of all the prophetic words that been given over me in my life. God had a purpose. There was a season in my life that I would go in my closet everyday and cry out to God; worshipping and praying. He spoke to me, drenched me in His presence, began giving me dreams and visions. I just wrote them down. I wasn’t seeking these things, I was simply seeking Him. My life had been turned upside down and I saw the world differently. I didn’t comprehend or relate to the natural world and felt homesick for the Lord. My thoughts were continually on spiritual things and having a “normal” conversation was almost impossible for me.
Experiences in the Lord are wonderful, encouraging, confirming and life changing, but not what we should seek. I believe as we draw near to the Lord He reveals His ways to us in “peeks” into the spiritual realm. They serve a purpose in our walks and draw us closer to Him because we see His attributes, His character, His mind, His love, His grace and mercy, His holiness, and His judgments that are very hard to wrap our human minds around. The Holy Spirit guides us, speaks to us, teaches us, convicts us and opens our eyes to His truths. I say all of this to also say we cannot base our walks and doctrines off of experiences as there are many that have experiences that are not from God. It is ever important to know the Word of God to be able to discern. A movement among the land is running rampant in which churches and people are seeking an experience. My sister and I were in a church once years ago, during worship it just felt off, but I couldn’t place why. I continued in worship and the worship began to pick up in intensity. I am not a stranger of spirit-filled services where people are dancing, clapping, lifting hands, singing in the spirit, bowing and prophetic words coming forth. This seemed like that but something in me was disgusted. I felt bad, as if I was judging or condemning so I kept praying and asking God to forgive me for any wrong mindset, but the disgust wouldn’t leave. Apparently my sister was aware of it as well and she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “The flesh stinks.” The Lord spoke to her what was going on; a working in the flesh and opening themselves up for experiences that were spiritual but not from God. The conjuring up of human emotions and souls are a very strong force. When she spoke that to me it bore witness to what I was discerning. As well I have been in circumstances where that same disgust makes me want to literally vomit. I have encountered this with people, in places, with music etc. I am not saying I am disgusted by the person but I believe there is a demonic spirit present. God in His graciousness allows me to see this for a purpose. Whether it’s to pray, get away from the situation, or take spiritual authority. I have experienced this several times working in the ER. It gave me a way to see what was really taking place despite what was being seen on the surface. In all, any experience from God will always point back to Him and glorify Him, not us, not a service, not a preacher or pastor, or the experience itself.
September, 2004; I was finishing some of my prerequisites for nursing school, had 3 children going to private school, a husband who had just had second back surgery and trying to recover and literally had a hospital bed in our living room. This was a fusion where they took bone from his hip to use to fuse along with some very large screws inserted on both sides of the spine. He wasn’t able to drive and was very limited physically and had to wear a hard back brace that made it impossible to bend over, sit normal or do daily tasks. It was a busy time, stressful time. The only way I was able to manage everything was being in my prayer closet.
I had decided to finally get my wisdom teeth out to make room for braces since I have a severe cross bite that makes me insecure and wearing my teeth down. Since my husband was not able to drive, my mom drove me in and dropped me off. The dentist was going to take out all 4 wisdom teeth and they were considered simple extractions that were only going to require the use of nitrous oxide. This was supposed to calm me and make me relaxed.
The assistant put the mask on me. Within a few minutes they went to work, numbing my mouth with shots. I felt calm with my eyes closed but was aware they thought I must have been “out” because they were talking unprofessionally about another practice and I thought it was strange. One tooth was out. On the second tooth I could feel immense pain and told the dentist. He told his assistant to turn up the nitrous. With my mouth pried open with dental equipment, suction and two pair of hands working it was difficult to talk and tell him I felt all he was doing. I pulled his hands down, he thought I was being combative and told her to turn it up. I wasn’t “out of it” or being combative. I was fully aware that I wasn’t being listened to. I began screaming and trying to tell him to stop and he was hurting me. Grabbing my face I yelled the best I could, “It hurts, it hurts, my jaw!!” His response was a pacifying , “I know, I know.” This response only further confirmed he thought I was simply under the influence of the Nitrous Oxide. He didn’t stop and he had the assistant help hold me down as he brutally and forcefully continuing wrenching the tooth out. I was fighting and beginning to lose my breath.
Instantaneously, I was no longer fighting the dentist, instead I was fighting for my life. This was not a dream. It was real like this life. I was being dragged behind a car by my feet tied together, my hands tied behind my back. Gravel in my face, people standing around watching, being dragged slowly. As my face would bump up I could take a breath and see. I cried out, “Oh LORD!”
“I AM”, He commanded in a clearly audible voice. I have heard the voice of God in my heart, in my spirit but never audibly. I say commanded because it wasn’t a statement alone, yet it was calm with authority. It certainly wasn’t a request. It was the I AM, who in Him is ALL authority and power. He simply spoke His name and just like the instant it took for me to be behind the car, I was back in the dentist chair. I drew in a deep breath as I am aware of all my surroundings. Chaos, the dentist doing chest compressions on me, yelling my name, “Janette, Janette! BREATHE Janette!” I opened my eyes to see a sweaty, screaming, panicking dentist.
The I AM heard my cry, He spoke His name and all order came in. The attack on my life instantly had to stop and at the same instant I breathed. He didn’t have to command anything to stop, He didn’t have to command me to breathe. All He did was speak His name.
I lost all sense of time and asked the pallid, sweating dentist, “Did I go out?” I couldn't wrap my mind around what I had experienced. He ignored me, again thinking I must have been “out of it”. But I wasn't. I was completely aware that I had just stopped breathing, that he was doing chest compressions and that he was yelling for me to breathe. I asked him again, “Did I go out?” His responded with a shaky voice, “just a little. Turn it down!” He was referring to the nitrous. They both looked very shaken up. I was calm, but confused. At this point I begin replaying what had just happened. Being dragged behind the car, the gravel in my face, the voice of the I AM. He pulled the last 2 teeth out and had me wait it the waiting room. I was waiting for my mom to arrive and began feeling very sick. My jaw was in excruciating pain. Although I was numbed up, I could feel a very deep aching pain that was so intense it was making me nauseated. I ran my finger s down both sides of my jaw line. Starting behind my ears on the jaw bone I ran, when I reached a few inches my left finger disappeared in to a space that wasn't on my right side. I began feeling around and realized the bone was not connected, that there was a large space in my jaw bone.
My mouth bloody and me unable to talk, I went to the receptionist. She looked at me with great concern. I was trying to explain but she couldn't understand my incomprehensible speech. So I grabbed her hands and ran them down my jawline. Her mouth dropped and she looked sick. She rushed me back to the dental room. Every second going by I have a million thoughts rushing around. I was scared, school midterms, the kids, my husband, I have no medical insurance, just dental. But the biggest looming question and thought was about my experience. Did I die? Where was I? What happened? Why had God allowed that? Then I remembered the I AM. I had no answers but one. That was that no matter what questions I had, the I AM heard me and answered me.
The few seconds it took for the dentist to return to me, felt like an eternity passing. He came in, panicked looking. His facial expressions offered no comfort to me, since he was mirroring my confusion and fear. He frantically paced as he appeared he wanted to escape his own body and finally blurted out, “I think I broke your jaw!!” It was more a confession than a finding, and I realized he already knew. At this point my mother came in and was directed back to me. A mother knows her child and her face did that thing when she’s afraid but trying to not show it. Her lips turned white and pressed, her eyes went into “emergency mom function mode”; the look of determination mixed with fear, confusion and protection. He blurted it out again, “I broke her jaw!” I wanted comfort and nobody was able to offer me that; the receptionist, my mom or the dentist. No answers just more questions. The dentist ran out of the room, the receptionist following. I wanted to cry but knew if I did I wouldn't be able to regain composure. So I began writing on Post-It notes to my mom, telling her I was scared, asking what can they do.
The dentist rushed back in and explained he has an oral surgeon friend down the road in another medical complex and he can do a full face xray. No ambulance was called instead he escorted me into his BMW, with my mom following us. I was trying my hardest to compartmentalize all my swirling thoughts: pain management while blocking out extreme nausea and urge to vomit in one place in my mind, confusion and “what ifs” in another part, logistics and technical concerns about insurance and school midterms in another. Yet what seemed to take forefront thought even as I was trying my hardest to push it away was the I AM. That thought had its own world full of questions: What happened, what did it mean? Why did God allow that to happen? What if I wouldn't have called out to God?
Having to steady myself in the jerking car, my hands sweaty and shaking, slipping on the leather seats my thoughts were interrupted by a question. The dentist asked in a failed attempt to sound cool, calm and collected, “So…um, um…how did you like that nitrous oxide?” My stomach sank as his obvious prying was to see what and if I remembered that I had to be resuscitated and was not breathing. I shook my head. What was I going to say? Tell him I think I died, that I was being dragged behind a car, that I cried out to God and He spoke His name and all order came into being? We were going to have a nice theological conversation with him answering all my questions? All I could squeeze out, as he hung on my every movement, was a half grunt.
We arrived at the oral surgeon’s office. I was rushed in like a celebrity; shielding my identity while being given priority treatment. Why was everyone’s face the same: curiosity, shock…and again no answers. The xray confirmed a complete broken jaw; broke in half. Off again to the hospital who has now been called ahead by the surgeon.
Sitting in the waiting room I am now face to face with my mind and the questions begging to be answered. In the years I have learned the waiting room is a parallel spiritual picture to the waiting room of life; unanswered questions, a place of struggle between fear and faith, a place of not knowing what the future hold yet God requesting that we trust Him with it, no matter the outcome. I have now learned I will need emergency surgery, but will have to wait 8 hours because I drank coffee that morning. I paced around as my mother began making phone calls and arrangements. My sister Mary had to pick up the kids and bring my husband down to the hospital since he was not able to drive. They gave me an ice-pack and the Novocaine was quickly wearing off. As I was pacing I was praying; sharing my heart with the I AM. I was scared, confused and to be quite honest my feelings were hurt that He allowed this to happen to me. I was most conflicted with my sincere sadness and my sincere gratitude; He allowed it with His permission and He saved me from it. God is so gracious. As I paced I felt the presence of the Lord, His love and He asked me a question, “Do you want your reward here or in heaven?”
Inside the question I could feel there was no right/wrong answer. That it would be His great pleasure to give me either. I could feel His hurt for me and His compassion. He asked me before I knew what would lie ahead of me, it was my choice. I answered, “I will take my reward in heaven.” Whatever that meant I knew the Lord was good, that He loved me and that this was not going to be in vain, and knowing that even if there wasn't a "right or wrong" answer, that there was a "more excellent" way (1 Corinthians 12:31 "But earnestly desire the greater gifts. And I show you a still more excellent way."
Although my questions were not answered I stood in the knowledge and faith that He did not abandon me, that He indeed was not simply aware of the pain, confusion and questions I had but felt all of it with me. I resolved in my mind to trust Him with my physical life. The reality of that I could have died and left my children and husband was so much to contemplate. I finally had to tell my mom. I scratched out little notes to my mom to communicate I was afraid. I told her I stopped breathing. She was trying to hold back her tears and I told her that she needs to make my children know how much I love them if I am going to die in the surgery. I was just so unsure about what God was doing that I wasn’t convinced I was going to do well under the anesthesia. She bravely told me it was going to be ok, but I was adamant on making her promise me. She did.
As the pain began getting out of control they finally took me back to give me morphine. It wasn’t touching the pain. I was writhing in pain and all the morphine did was prevent me from having enough mental control to manage the pain. My husband was there now and I remember pleading with him to do something tell, them the pain was unbearable. He hobbled out with his back brace constricting movement. He was telling the nurse that I was in unbearable pain. “Sir, honestly if I give your wife anymore I am going to kill her. I am sorry but I cannot give her anything.” Desperation. Where are You God, I agonized in my mind. Again, He heard. Surrounded now by my closest friends, pastor, and family they laid hands on me; their prayers went up to heaven in a voice of unity and I fell asleep.
I don’t know how much time went by as I finally rested, but when awakened it was time for surgery. I was wheeled on the gurney to the operating room where the surgeon met us. He began to explain the break, the procedure, the expected time it would take, the recovery and then he broke my heart. He explained to me that because of the nerves involved and the degree of the break that I could have permanent damage. “You may never pucker again”. (flashes of not being able to ever kiss my husband or children), “you may never smile again”. WAIT! I wanted to scream because I hadn’t yet got hold of the last thing he said, but the list continued; pain, numbness, loss of muscle that can cause a dragging look, a scar on my neck, etc.
What was supposed to be a 1 ½ hour surgery was 4 ½ hours. It required a permanent metal plate with 6 screws to be fastened in the bone. They went through my neck leaving a 3 inch scar. The next thing I remember is being in a hospital room waking to feeling very scared because I couldn’t swallow right and was a panicking feeling because I couldn’t open my mouth and breath through my mouth to draw in a big breath. I rang my bell for the nurse. She explained to me my jaw was wired shut and it was “normal” to feel that way.
The next few days were pretty silent, except within my mind. Visitors here and there, doctors, nurses, insurance reps coming in and wanting to see me and tell what happened. Everyone’s response: SUE HIM! I couldn’t explain yet why that wasn’t even an option for me, as I already told the Lord I wanted my reward in heaven. He reminded me of that every time my mind wanted to entertain. But the more people told me that the more I entertained the thought. They are right; he was too rough, he didn’t listen to me, he was grossly negligible, he used poor judgment and so on. With enough quiet time I was able to talk to God about this. I didn’t like these feelings because they led to anger and the more I entertained the idea the more they came. No. It was just like that. I wasn’t going to be angry, I was going to forgive. I wasn’t going to take my reward here, I was going to let God be glorified in this situation. The I AM spoke to me, saved me, and was ever present with me and THAT what going to be my story. I didn’t know what the future held with my jaw but God did and that was enough for me.
The dentist and his wife came and visited with flowers. He asked about my insurance situation. I had none and didn’t qualify for state help under normal circumstances but did for a portion because of the nature of the emergency. He ended up paying $2000 that wasn’t covered and offered free dental services…that I politely declined. Time to go home.
Being at home is where the real spiritual battle with fear began for me. The pain was hard to keep under control. I asked my friend, Marla, who was a nurse to stay with me. She was more than a friend, more than a nurse. She was my prayer partner and sister in Christ and I needed her there to comfort me. My husband was now my caregiver; we were both experiencing a role reversal. In his own drugged out state he would have to medicate me, he smashed my Vicodin into a powder to put in chocolate milk so I could drink it through a straw because my mouth was wired shut. No eating for a few weeks, living on chocolate milk, juice and vicoden. What a picture we were; he was heavily sedated and trying to function to take care of me, whereas only a few days ago I was taking care of him. My parents were taking care of the kids but they were ready to be home. They came home but it didn’t feel like “home”, everyone was stressed, exhausted and wanting “normal”. I began to function physically but was an absolute mess emotionally and spiritually. I felt like death was behind every corner for me as I doubted God wasn’t going to allow something else to happen to me.
The kids were home but brought with them a nasty rash, each of them. We called the doctors and they made us come through the back door because they were afraid they had chicken pox. It was just a bacterial skin rash that cleared up but they couldn’t go to school and the stress was just compounding. How much more Lord? Nothing felt certain.
As our new normal was beginning it was finally time to get my wires off. I went to the surgeons office. I was blindsided when the nurse came in with IV equipment and solutions. I physically tried to escape by pushing myself as far as I could into the chair. I questioned/accused, “what is that?!” All my fears of dying came back in vividness. She so calmly said she was going to give me medication to put me to sleep. NO WAY. There was no way I was going to be put under. I was fighting back tears and just kept repeating my answer as she continued to persuade, reason with, and assure me. No. She left to get the surgeon. He came in and asked me what was going on, I told him I wasn’t comfortable with the anesthesia He assured me it was going to be ok. It all just came spilling out with tears. “I am not going to be put under, I stopped breathing, the dentist was reviving me, I died, I don’t want to die. I was dragged behind the car, the I AM spoke to me, I can’t be put under!” He just sat there looking a like I hit him with a brick; confusion mixed with compassion. I don’t know if he believed me but I was convincing enough for him to relent. “I have never done this before…(he stammered), we just don’t do this.”
As he pulled and tugged he couldn’t hide his stress under his mask; his eyes squeezed. I didn’t make a peep. I would like to say its because I am so tough, I’m not. It was because I was so scared that if I cried or complained he would stop and I would have to be put under. The fear of that IV propelled me to have him unwire my jaw and pull long wires through my teeth and gums without a wince. He might have been more relieved when he was finished than I was. He half chuckled with relief in his voice, “wow, had I known you were going to be that tough I wouldn’t have argued!”
Driving home I was trying out my mouth, I couldn’t open it still as it was too stiff to move, the novacaine wore off and that’s when I realized the damage. I pulled over in a parking lot, almost slapping my chin on the left side, My teeth felt fake like wood blocks sitting in there, my chin was numb…was this the Novocain? It couldn’t be because I had feeling everywhere else. I pulled the rearview mirror down looking and slapping as if I was somehow going to see the nerve damage. I tried to smile, my mouth on the left just sagged. I bit down for the first time and there was electrical nerve pains shooting down from my teeth, my lip and chin. Every bite was the same; normal on the right, completely damaged on the left. It made me feel stuck and when I thought about a lifetime of this crazy sensation and pain I crumpled. If I had taken my reward here on earth would I have had this damage, would we be financially struggling? The thoughts raced in my mind and I took them captive as I reaffirmed my position.
Weeks went on as I finally was able to start to eat again and move and open my mouth, months later I had a sudden electrical shock, like a lightning strike in my teeth, gums, lip and chin and I had feeling. Well a type of feeling. Touching my chin it still felt like I was touching someone else’s face but I realized I could feel pain, like when you eat cold ice-cream, or at the dentist when a nerve is exposed. I did regain some nerve function but it was just my pain receptors being awakened. I was very pleased to be able to pucker and smile and eventually my muscles were strong enough to not make my sag as noticeable; although you can still see it when I am sleepy or had a glass of wine. My family has to tell me if something is on my “dead spot” because I will have whole leaf of lettuce sitting there and have no idea. Swollen gums are enough to make me go insane as the sensation on that side is like an infected splinter being pinched all the way down my chin while putting ice on your teeth. When I get a cold the gland on the side is swollen like a rock because of the scar tissue and I get back headaches. I have neck problems because of the way I am tense and hold myself on that side that then affects my back. In short I have a daily reminder of my injury, but I also have a daily reminder of the I AM.
It took me many years to look into the Nitrous Oxide effects/dangers. “Toxicity of local anesthetics can occur quickly. Overdose of local anesthetic can occur if blood pressure elevates and this, in turn, affects the central nervous system. The patient can even slip into unconsciousness or go into complete respiratory failure.” Story after story I read of children and some adults dying from this at the dentist office under routine care…though they report its extremely rare. (Edited 2/1/2015: I recently found out that I have a common genetic mutation that cannot tolerate the use of Nitrous, as it builds up in the system to toxic levels, causing severe problems or death in people with MTHFR disorder).
As I have dealt with this with God, having many conversations with Him I still have a lot of questions but I have more answers. I can look back and say this encounter truly changed me. I can say with all truth I understand Romans 8:28 And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.
What satan meant for evil toward me God has used for good in my life. I was able to show kindness and forgiveness to a dentist that knew he was guilty. Months later I wrote him a letter and told him what happened, letting him know that the I AM stepped into that situation. I never heard anything back but he and I both know. Doctors I have talked to, others who are struggling with “unfairness” in this life have been ministered to. But I have reaped the most. I am changed, never to be the same again. I was already a pretty intense person but now my face is “set like flint”, as was prophesied over me when I was young.
Isaiah 50:7 For the Lord GOD helps Me, Therefore, I am not disgraced; Therefore, I have set My face like flint, And I know that I will not be ashamed
Ezekiel 3:9 I will make your forehead like the hardest stone, harder than flint. Do not be afraid of them or terrified by them, though they are a rebellious house."
The Lord has strengthened me in Him, and the more time that goes on the stronger I feel. Not in my own strength but in Him. More and more He reveals Himself to me and I long with eagerness to hear Him, be with Him, tell of Him. God the Father, God the son, and God the Holy Spirit is 3 persons in one God. The I AM came to this earth to save us by shedding His blood, and taking our punishment. In His great love for us He reveals Himself in the person of Jesus.
The soldiers that came to take Jesus away met the I AM; John 18:4-6 4 So Jesus, knowing all the things that were coming upon Him, went forth and *said to them, “Whom do you seek?” 5 They answered Him, “Jesus the Nazarene.” He *said to them, “I AM He.” And Judas also, who was betraying Him, was standing with them. 6 So when He said to them, “I AM He,” they drew back and fell to the ground.
In the notes in the Bible it suggests a battalion had come to get him that consisted of 600 armed men. Imagine that for a moment. They come, Jesus asks who they seek they say Jesus and He pronounces that He is the I AM. As soon as He said that, 600 armed men drew back and fell! He didn’t command them to. He simply spoke who He was. That I AM is who saved us. He held all power, He could’ve spoke and the word and all of them could’ve dropped dead there, but He was the lamb led to slaughter, quietly, without a defense. He gave up His life and nobody took it from Him. He did that for us. He was there in the beginning and all things were created by Him, things seen and unseen. He is the one that is going to return for His Church. He is the one I long for every day, the one I worship and serve. He is the one that holds all power in His word. He sets limits on which He allows His children to experience.
I know my broken jaw cannot be measured or compared to those who have lost loved ones, or have suffered great illnesses or horrific things that have happened to some, but I do know the I AM doesn’t turn a blind eye to His children and although He allows evil things to happen because we live in this fallen world He is with us. Even if what He asks us to walk through is horrible, He doesn’t ask you to walk it alone. He walks it with you. Stand in HIM in these days, abide in HIM. There are promises in HIM.
Psalm 91:1-2 He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High, shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord He is my refuge and my fortress, My God in Him will I trust.
Our peace, our security is in Him. He is our refuge in times of trouble.
one of the kids rash
1 comment:
Thank you for sharing this story. Even to this day it is a beautiful reminder that our Lord doesn't leave or forsake us. You have a precious testimony.
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