Prayer's Thread in Life's Tapestry

The Joy of Praying Scripture for Others
My Story


Placing Blame


“Kathryn.” He often called to me in the quiet hours. I was an angry, out of control 18 year old and I didn’t want to hear from Him.

“Kathryn, come back to me.” I covered my ears with my hands. I wished He would shut up.

“Kathryn, I love you.”

In my minds eye I could see Jesus bending down towards me, His arms reaching out. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block out the image.

Finally with a clenched fist raised I shouted, “Go away. Leave me alone. I hate you for being a man. I hate you because you could have stopped all this. It’s your fault I turned out this way. I hate you so much! Leave me alone!”

That scene took place, alone on my sofa in as a teenager in 1979.

I grew up on a non-denominational, Bible believing church, accepted Jesus in my heart as a child and was baptized early on. I had a decent knowledge of the Bible’s contents; where the stories were and even the lessons they taught. If I had to pick one thing to thank my mother for it would have to be making sure we always went to church every week rain or shine. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights and Wednesday nights. No exceptions unless we were sick. It was as certain as going to school. That steady weekly attendance built a foundation that would sustain me later in life even though I didn’t know it at the time. Many years from this point overwhelming circumstances would enter my life and bring me to a crossroads and everything I learned in church while growing up would become very personal.  

No childhood is perfect but some just seem to have more than their share of heartache. Sexually assaulted during my childhood and raped as a teenager, I had serious issues that were far bigger than I could possibly handle and no one to turn to. I was angry and emotionally shattered. I didn’t dare tell anyone of these events, they wouldn’t understand and I kept my feelings hidden down deep inside. I later sought counseling for the trauma resulting from these events but at this point I was two different people. I lacked any authenticity. Who I was with my church friends was not who I was with my secular friends. The girl who people saw on the outside was not who I was on the inside. On the outside I tried to look like the happy, good little Christian girl but on the inside I was a raging war zone and it would be years before I allowed God a place in my heart.

Wanting so badly to belong and to be liked I opened the door of promiscuity, drugs and alcohol every chance I got to fill those needs. Thoughts of suicide were ever-present however my few “attempts” were in reality a cry for help more than the desire for death.

I left home. I left church. I hated God.

This is a terrible place of loneliness that so many people find themselves in. I was at odds with my family, quickly loosing many of my Christian friends, emotionally scarred and without hope. I wanted to have the desire to be good but I just didn’t. I was comfortable with my anger and there were those who were all too willing to temporarily cure my loneliness. I went from relationship to relationship, each one leaving me bitter and more alienated. I didn't think life wasn’t supposed to be this way and I kept waiting for my knight in shining armor to carry me away to his castle where we were to live happily ever after.

“The Lord is near to all who call upon Him, to all who call upon Him in truth. (Ps. 145:18 NAS).

Are you kidding? He was the last person I was going to go to for help. Fear and anger got in the way of that first step of crying out to Him. And so I continued on in that place of emotional isolation yet at the same time sought help through psychiatric care, which in the end only made me feel inferior, damaged and offered little hope.

I desperately wanted to get pregnant, certain that a baby would fill the ever-present hole in my life and I longed for someone who I could love and who would love me back unconditionally and most of all, one who would never leave or cause me pain. Having four siblings I always hoped to have five children of my own desiring the security of a large family. In my mind it seemed to be the only scenario for happiness

On October 25, 1982 I gave birth to the child that would forever change me. As I held that new little life in my arms I was certain I would never love as much as I did in that moment. Justin had completely captured my heart. Later in life I would look back and see God’s mercy and love in giving me Justin. He was the catalyst God used to bring me back to Himself. I had married the father during my pregnancy, but having a history of unstable relationships and my love/hate attitude toward men, that marriage was a two year battle that I eventually lost. 

We had so much fun, Justin and I. We would read together, laugh, sing, put music on and dance around the house. He was my life support and I clung passionately to him. Although my life style didn’t change he was a shining light that I could come home to and feel safe with. When Justin was almost two I became pregnant again. Thrilled to think my security net was being added to nothing could dampen my spirits. Life was grand.

One afternoon during a routine checkup the Dr. expressed concern that I didn’t have morning sickness. An ultra sound was ordered and the next day I got his awful phone call. “This pregnancy will kill you if it isn’t terminated.” he said.

“We need to get you into surgery today” he continued, “I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

The news that I would lose my baby was devastating. Within hours I was admitted to the hospital preparing for the surgery that would take my child from me.

Alone in that hospital room I collapsed into sobs mourning the loss that was to come.

“Please save my baby’s life.” I pleaded with my doctor as the nurses wheeled me into the surgery room." 

He assured me that he would try, but, of course, he couldn’t and the surgery left scaring that would keep me from getting pregnant again. I did not just lose my baby. I felt like a murderer. Because of me, my healthy child lost its life, just because it was in the wrong place. Could I do nothing right or was it God getting back at me for the way I lived?

That experience combined with the past trauma was the root of a depression that would last for several years. I got a divorce and desperately clung to the son I had. He was my life. Then one day all that I had learned in church came rushing back to me. Heaven, Hell, Salvation. I remembered asking Jesus in my heart so very long ago and I knew it was permanent, I knew I was His child but He seemed so far away. I thought about my life style, falsely believing that if I did not change Justin would grow up and not know God and then it would be my fault if he died and went to Hell. I could not bear the burden of being responsible for the physical death of one child and the spiritual death of another.

“God,” I cried out, “I only have one son, just like you. I know I don’t deserve to ask you anything, and I’m sure you don’t even like me but please, save my son. Take my name out of your book of life if you want, send me to Hell if you want but save my son. Put his name in my place. I can’t raise him by myself but you can. You raise him. Please take my son and save him.” I begged.

Those words are forever etched in my mind. I knew God didn't bargain like that but it was my cry to Him. There I was asking God to do something that I knew I could not do myself.  That pleading of a mother’s heart and that desire for my son’s salvation was the seed that would someday grow into a ministry for others.

Up until now I had had little interest in going back to church for myself. My mother had been faithfully picking Justin up each week so he could attend Sunday school. Desiring change I planned my escape from the lifestyle I was living.  I could not, I would not raise my son in this current environment. I decided it was time to check out church again. So the two of us started going together.

For two years I played hokey pokey with God. One foot in and one foot out. Nevertheless, unknown to me God was quietly working to soften my heart. Slowly He reeled me in and I knew I needed Him. I asked Him for a fresh start.

Justin accepted Jesus as his Savior at 4 ½ years of age. Here are his words as written when he was 10.

“When I was 4 ½ years old I received the Lord into my heart on February 5, 1987. I was in my Grandma’s house alone. I sat on a chair that my uncle made. At that time I realized that I did not know the Lord. Immediately I received the Lord on my own. Then I jumped up for joy and ran outside where my Grandma was working. Then I told her what had happened. Then we celebrated.”

Simply done and yet sincere. He remembers that date as the day he was saved. Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, whoever doesn't receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never get into it at all." (Luke 18:17 ISV) They come with excitement and complete dependency. God was answering my prayer of years earlier.

My son was saved and I had just gotten married again. I expected life to smooth out now that I had asked God to take control but that does not always happen. A common misconception is when one gives the reins to God all the work is done and we can sit back and relax while wonderful experiences come into our life. In fact, the work is just starting. How could I ask God to fix in one day a life that I had worked for years to mess up? He certainly could, should he choose to, but in my situation it was to be a long road and I had many lessons still to learn. 

(Cont. below)



A Mother’s Prayer

The sweetest sound heard through our earthly home, 
The brightest ray that gleams from heaven’s dome,
The loveliest flower that e’er from earth’s breast rose,
That purest flame that, quivering, gleams and glows,
Are found alone, where kneels a mother mild`
With heart uplifted, praying for her child.


The stream of tears can never cease to flow
Long as life’s sun shall shine on us below;
And many angels have been sent by God
To count the tear-drops wept upon life’s road;
But of all the tears that flow, the least defiled
Are when a mother prays beside her child.


Because it is to mortal eyes unseen,
Ye call it foolishness, a childish dream,
In vain, ye cannot rob me of that thought,
That legend with such heavenly sweetness fraught,
That blessed angels have for ages smiled
To see a mother praying for her child.

Anonymous



Hanging On



I knew I was saved. I had accepted God’s gift of salvation. I believed that Jesus died on that cross in my place, for my sins and that by faith I was going to spend eternity in heaven with my Savior. However, I did not feel that I was growing as I wanted to. Something was not right and I could not put my finger on it.

I diligently tried to make a habit of reading a passage from a devotional each night before I went to sleep. One night my reading took me to John 8: 1-6. It is about a woman caught in the act of adultery and is brought before Jesus to get His take on what to do with her. Life or death?

I’ll pick up the devotional part here. It reads:

This is it. She tells herself, this is the end. Her fate forever at the hands of men. From their hands she has received bread. Now it is to be stones.

And so she stands there, sullen, her eyes deep sinkholes of hate. And every eye that circles her returns the searing hate, branding a scarlet letter onto her soul. Every eye, that is, except for the eyes of Jesus….

… The silence is deafening: the drama, intense. With his finger he writes in the sand. The necks of the righteous crane to decipher the writing. What he writes will forever remain a mystery. Maybe it is the sins the crowd has committed. Maybe it is a quote from Moses. Maybe it is the names of the prominent leaders there. Whatever he writes is for their eyes, not ours.

Jesus stands up. All eyes are fixed on him

At last he responds, “if any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.”

One by one the stones thud to the ground. And one by one the men leave. Starting with the oldest, perhaps because they are the wisest – or the most guilty.

Jesus stoops to write again. This time it is only for her eyes.

They are alone now – lawbreaker and lawgiver. And the only one qualified to condemn her, doesn’t.

She takes a deep breath. Her heart is a fluttering moth held captive in his hands.

The Savior has stood up for this unknown woman and fought for her. She is his victory. He stands up again, this time to free her.

“ “Has no one condemned you?” He asks.

Timid words stumble from her lips, “No one, sir.”

She waits for a reply. Certainly a sermon must be gathering momentum in the wings. But no sermon comes.

What comes are words of grace, “Neither do I condemn you,” and words of truth, that her life of sin needs to be left behind.”


It grabbed my heart. I had not accepted his forgiveness! I carried so much guilt and I just couldn’t get past it. I read the phrase again, “Neither do I condemn you,” and then again and again. Over and over I read it, tears streaming down as God took my face into His hands and looked at me until I finally heard Him and believed Him

Oswald Chambers writes “The look of Jesus will require breaking your heart away forever from allegiance to any other person or thing. Has Jesus ever looked in this way at you? This look of Jesus transforms, penetrates and captivates.” This was the look and I’ve never been the same since and the chain of condemnation was broken as I accepted His forgiveness and relaxed in His acceptance.

You can’t pick and choose with Jesus. You accept all of it or none of it. Forgiveness and salvation go hand in hand. That doesn’t mean I don’t still struggle with the whole issue of being forgiven. I do. But I don’t doubt his forgiveness anymore; I am just amazed that he really does.

(Cont. below)


The Little Boy Thou Gavest Me

Dear Lord, I bring to Thee my son,     
Whose tender years have  scarce begun.

In this wee frame I know full well
A living soul has come to dwell

Who needs Thee now at childhood's gate,
Ere he shall grow to man's estate.

I covenant through hours apart
To pray for him with fervent heart,

To teach Thy Word with winsome voice
By day and night until his choice

Be but Thy blood for sin's deep stain
And my small son is born again.

Then onward shall I pray the more
And teach Thy precepts o'er and o'er,

That he may grow, each boyhood hour,
By Thine indwelling risen power,

Lord, some small boys with none to care
Will never hear a mother's prayer;

Prepare my son with love aflame
To reach them with Thy saving name.

And make him Lord, a polished tool,
A learner in Thy highest school.

A mother's part seems, oh, so frail!
But Thy strong arm can never fail

Expectantly I yield to Thee
The little boy Thou gavest me.


Louise B. Eavey



Letting Go



The desire to raise Justin as a Christian intensified and I knew I had to take action. I was determined to make my life count, to make a difference. Some hurts though do not heal so easily.

My heart was still broken over the knowledge I would not have any more children. It affected relationships with my friends that were having babies and with my younger siblings who were also starting families of their own. I alienated anyone and anything that had to do with babies and unknown to me Justin saw this as a lack of acceptance. I thought I could hide my feelings but they were coming out in other ways and it would corrode our relationship if I did not change my attitude. It came to a head when he was about 11.

My brother and his wife just had their second baby. I was trying to explain to Justin why I didn’t want to go see them and how my heart was still hurting over my own loss. Sitting on the steps of our home, confused because what I preached and how I acted were different, with unabashed honesty he said, “I don’t feel like I’m enough for you.” I will never forget those words or the lesson it taught me. Can you imagine the impact of what he said? I felt like a truck had hit me in the chest. I had no idea I was hurting the one person that meant so much to me. I begged his forgiveness and determined from that day forward to let go of my emotional wounds and allow God to further change me.

Past failures and hurts are just that. They are in the past and nothing you can do will change that and yet one of the most difficult things to do is to just let that sorrow go. 2Co 7:10 "For godly sorrow worketh repentance unto salvation, a repentance which bringeth no regret: but the sorrow of the world worketh death." (ASV)

It was said to me the other day that Jesus died between two thieves.  The past and the future.   Both rob one of present joy. I was drowning in sorrow. Sorrow over my past lifestyle, sorrow over my lost baby, sorrow that I had hurt my son, Sorrow over the future I had lost, sorrow with life in general.

Godly sorrow, according to God, brings about a change of mind and life. A change not to be regretted. The kind of sorrow the world has is grief for failure not for sin.

I wanted to change more than anything. God is so faithful. He allowed me to see that my joy in my son would be full with quality not quantity. I set my mind to spend the remaining years as a mother focused on raising a child of character and integrity. I had not been a bad mother to this point. We went to church every Sunday, I home schooled him, I brought God into our home but the focused passion for raising a godly son was now at a new level. I revisited a portion of my old prayer. It went something like this.

“Lord, You’ve given me one incredible son but I can’t raise him as well as you can. Please, God, take Justin and raise him. Take up where I leave off and finish it because you will do a much better job than I will. I acknowledge that he’s Yours more than mine and I give him to You again. Raise him as an example to others so that they will see how You can take a person like me, undeserving of anything good and through me bring forth a person of real quality. White from black. It’s what You do.”

In Deut. 6: 6-9 Moses talks to the Israelites about raising children.

"These words which I am commanding you today shall be on your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your sons, and talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down, and when you rise up. And you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontals on your forehead. And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." (NASB)

Children watch you. They absorb your values; they see your behavior and then emulate it until there are little “yous” running around. Do you want your children to be just like you? Are your actions and your words such as you would want them to copy? If you see yourself in them, would you be pleased? Let me say it again, they will learn from your behavior more than your advice.

One cannot teach what one does not possess. I wanted  to raise a godly son. I wanted to be a godly mother.  My own mother, by example, taught me to go to church and keep God in my life.  I needed to clarify and pursue that which I wanted to pass on to Justin and then on to my grandchildren. The Apostle Paul charges Timothy (who, by the way was raised by a godly mother)  "Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourself to be godly. I Timothy 4:7 (NIV).  And then a little later "But you, man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness." I Timothy 6:11 (NIV)

Not being sure where to start or what to do differently I continued on as I had trusting God to lead the way.

The speaker at a women’s retreat I attended a year or so later was Daisy Hepburn. She mentioned that she prayed through a Bible for her grandchildren and then gave it to them. That little comment planted a seed and a year of continuing personal spiritual growth gave it the watering it needed and the year Justin entered public high school that seed sprouted.

Having home schooled him through Jr. High I was apprehensive about him leaving my nest of security where I controlled what went into his life to go out into the world without my watchful eye. This was a big deal to me. It was Daniel going into Babylon and I had to trust God to watch over him but I knew there was something I could do as well and God reminded me of all the mothers in the Bible who prayed for their sons and how He answered. He reminded me of what Daisy had done, so I set my mind to praying.

I bought a Bible with enough margin room for notes and blank pages in the back for letters to Justin. I wanted to be able to write to him letters of encouragement and wisdom. I wanted him to know about the many pitfalls I fell into and to warn him of them. I wanted the room to write whatever God put in my heart. Starting in the front cover with a note telling him what I was doing and why, I committed to pray for him every day. Every time he would see a verse underlined he would know I prayed that scripture for him with his name inserted. James 5:16 says “…The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” (KJV) I believed it. I counted on it. I was pretty sure God would not turn away from a mother pleading to Him for her son’s spiritual life. 

Effectual and fervent I understood, but righteous?  I didn't feel righteous enough, good enough.  Were my i's dotted and my t's crossed before I started? Prayer often left me wondering if God really heard me. Notice it does not say "a spiritual man", but a "righteous man" and righteousness is not something we do. Righteousness is our position in Christ.  As believers the cloak of Christ's blood is our righteousness.  When our children come to us and really need to talk we don't ask them if they've taken a bath, washed behind their ears and brushed their teeth.  We welcome them to talk to us. God welcomes us as well. When we come to Him, He hears us and fervent prayer accomplishes much.

II Timothy 3: 16-17 reminds us that “All Scripture is inspired by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, for training in righteousness; that the man of God may be adequate, equipped for every good work.” (NASB). It covers everything in life and I wanted my son completely covered.

So I read and prayed cover to cover. Starting with Genesis I wrote about marriage, mistakes I had made and my hope for his own future marriage. In Psalms telling him of the value of praise. Continuing to Proverbs with all its wisdom. Let me pause to share a story.

As a sophomore in High School Justin decided to run for class  representative. He was a skinny little guy with glasses and braces, he would call himself a nerd, and he was running against a very popular guy. Justin, it seemed didn’t have a chance but he had such self-confidence. I sent him off to school the day of the election with great encouragement then sat down to read my Bible. My reading that morning happened to be Proverbs 16:33 “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (NASB) Do you know Justin won the election that day! I had a lot to write about in that margin the next morning. That lesson in God’s sovereignty also gave me a better perspective of my life. God has complete control. Nothing is a surprise and everything has a purpose for our good and His glory.

Well, I continued through the Old Testament enjoying writing notes about prophecy. I read on into the New Testament talking about the life of Jesus, Christian Living and then Heaven. What a wonderful time I had as I shared stories and my hope for his life.

It took me just over 2 years to get through that Bible. The morning that I finished Revelation was a difficult one. A work that I had poured my heart and soul into was completed. The last 2 pages contain my final letter to him and a prayer for him. They are without doubt the most tear stained pages of them all. Although there was a sense of finality I knew it was not in vain.

I sat there with the Bible on my lap for quite a while. Not really wanting to let go and wondering if I had forgotten anything. I flipped through the pages one last time, took a deep breath and decisively closed it. Holding it close to my heart I slowly climbed the stairs and reverently wrapped it up to give to him at Christmas.

I watched God work in his life and I am still seeing the impact of daily praying scripture and lifting him before God. God has been faithful and that faithfulness has made it easier to hold Justin with an open hand and release him into the world knowing he is in God’s loving care. I have experienced and continue to see the power of prayer.

Since then I have read and prayed through a Bible for many others. Each one had a different theme depending on their individual situations. Two of them were Justin’s friends, which he asked me to do for them. The most recent was for my daughter-in-law. Started when Justin was not even looking for a wife and finished after they were married. I find that through each one I am also changed and challenged. I have learned so much. It’s a spiritual journey that has drawn me closer to my heavenly Father and I marvel at His amazing grace.

I recently had an opportunity to confront one of my assailants. It was at his father’s funeral. Certainly not the ideal place for a confrontation but the reality of him being right there and knowing I would probably never see him again caused me to really think about it. I sat there with the anger welling up inside of me. The old feelings of helplessness commingled with the new sense of power and self-confidence. The temptation to use this moment to ruin his life as he had done to mine was strong. Did he have any idea at all the impact he'd had on me? I considered the satisfaction I could have as his wife and children looked on. The humiliation he would feel at being revealed as a child-molester.

I walked out of there not saying a word. He may or may not have even been aware of my presence. Joseph said it so well in Genesis 50:19,20 “…..Do not be afraid, for am I in God’s place? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good….”(NIV)

It doesn’t matter where you’ve been in life; there is no situation that God cannot reach. There is always hope and God can take any life and use it for His glory to impact future generations. I am living proof that He can take black and make white. It’s what He does. A good friend recently told me "God doesn't waste a hurt".

Let me return to that devotional section about the adulterous woman. It ends…

“ There are no tears as she leaves. Years later there will be. At odd moments during the day: when she looks at her children asleep in their beds; when she waves good-bye to her husband as he walks to work in the morning; when she kneads bread in the solitude of her kitchen.

A marriage she never would have had…a family she never would have had…a life she never would have had – were it not for such a wonderful Savior. A Savior who stood up for her when others wanted to stone her. A Savior who stooped to pick her up and send her on her way, forgiven.”


Think to yourself for a moment. What area in your life have you not accepted His forgiveness? What are you holding on to? It’s hard to grow while carrying a ball and chain of guilt.  I know it's easier said than done.  The burden of guilt has always been a struggle for me.  I battled with Post-Traumatic Stess Disorder (PTSD) and co-dependency. I found great help and healing in Dr. Dan Allender's book "The Wounded Heart", Neil Anderson's "Steps to Freedom in Christ" coupled with Christian counseling and a lot of prayer.  Let go of it. Hand it over to Him. I believe the desire for recovery is a gift.  If you find yourself in this place, enter the battle. Choose the hard path of recovery and allow Him take that experience and use it to help someone else for His glory.

There’s a lot I had hoped for in my life that I will never have, mostly because of my own foolish choices but also things that were out of my control.  A more recent event destroyed my family unit and my role and as wife and mom but I can look back and see God’s hand of protection even then. When Satan wanted to test Job God said he could go so far but no further. I can see where God set boundaries on my life as well. He keeps a sovereign watchful eye over His children and although He does allow difficult and sometimes potentially devastating situations to enter our lives they are never without a purpose, never out of His control and no experience is ever wasted. He uses it all.

Our lives are a multi-colored tapestry of events. Some are dark, others are busy and bright but all have a story to tell. And there are those with a beautiful golden thread of prayer woven in and out and through it. Oh to be the needle that God uses in the weaving of that thread and then one day to see the completed work, knowing you had a part.  What a tremendous joy.




JUSTIN’S PERSPECTIVE



On Christmas, 1998, my mother presented me with a Bible that she had read specifically for me. She spent about two and a half years reading it, praying over it, and writing in it to provide for me an insight into her heart and her desires for me to grow into a man of God. I didn’t expect it and didn’t really know what to think at first, except that I knew how much time and effort went into its making. But as I’ve grown I’ve found wisdom, not only in the scriptures, but in the notes that she wrote in the margins.

A lot happened during those two and a half years, and she chronicled many of the major events of my life in the back of that Bible. The beauty of my Bible is that the notes aren’t generic. Many times notes in the margins of a Bible simply amplify or clarify a verse. But the notes in the Bible that was read for me were written not only to simplify a verse but to provide application specifically for my life.

As my mother, she was privy to my strengths, my weaknesses, my fears, my struggles. This provided a unique insight into the reading and gave her a perfect vantage point from which to analyze the lessons from the scriptures and apply them to my life. As I’ve grown, I’ve found myself going to these pages many times almost as a “second opinion” or simply to see if there is a different viewpoint from my own written in its pages.

Since I received my Bible back in 1998, I have changed a lot and my life has taken unexpected twists and turns. The one thing however, that has not changed is my faith. I think one of the main reasons that I have been able to stay so close to the Lord is that my mother has provided an excellent example for me to follow. But her readings have not been limited to me. She has read other Bibles for other people, tailored specifically for where they were in their spiritual walk. For me it happened to be encouragement through the struggles of growing up and being a man of God. For my best friend, it was the validity and historical authenticity of the scriptures. For another friend it was the supremacy of Christ over all other religions.

I have noticed changes in many of the people for whom a Bible was read specifically, especially in my own life. The effort that goes into just one of these Bibles seems to impress upon the recipient greatly how much the reader cares for that person, and in and of itself demands that it be read.

In 1999 my Bible suffered water damage when it was rained on, and some of the words that my mother had written were lost. Although a few of these words were salvageable, there are thoughts and insights that I will never be able to replace on those pages. This saddens me, but I can take comfort in the fact that the words that remain, and the messages they hold will be with me and perhaps my children long after my mother is gone.







1.  Intimate Moments with the Savior, Gire, Ken

2.  My Utmost for His Highest, Chambers, Oswald

3.  Robertson’s Word Pictures