Musings of A Tadpole

I don’t see myself as poet or author. I’m just a woman who finds solace in the process of writing. It’s a spiritual journey. When I write I feel like I am sitting with God. Some of the content might be offensive; it’s not directed at anyone. I put my raw feelings down and sometimes it’s not pretty. Life isn't always wrapped in a beautiful package. I have learned to deal with this by writing. I hope these words speak to your heart as they have mine! ~Andrea~

Jun 18, 2020

Reverse Racism at Courthouse Today

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

6/18/39

I had to make a trip to the Municipal courthouse in Tulsa today. I had some personal business to handle. When I arrived, there was a tent set up at the entrance and a long line. There were signs posted everywhere that said to maintain 6 feet for social distancing and lines marked on the concrete. I wore a mask and alot of people had one on but some didn't.

Everyone was doing pretty good at maintaining distance but the guy behind me apparently missed all the signage. He was literally breathing down my neck and had no mask on. I am not sure if he was nervous or had too many tokes on the way in or what but I sure didn't feel comfortable. I turned around and politely asked him to please back up to the line behind him and pointed it out. I also pointed to the sign right in front of him that said maintain 6 feet distance. His girlfriend grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

I promise you, he could have been a little old lady, white, Hispanic, Native American, gay, straight, I don't care I still would have asked him to back off. It had nothing to do with his skin color and everything to do with COVID19 safety. However, he happened to be African American. He went off on me! Told me to go to hell. He told his girlfriend that if he weren't at the courthouse he would "beat the shit out of that racist white bitch". Every time the line moved he counted real loud to 6 and said to me, "Are ya happy now bitch?!" I did not engage with him.

I stood there quietly (which to many who know me is a miracle) while he showed his ass and I wrote a text of what was happening and that I felt unsafe and intimidated and to please get security in the area. Then I waved a girl over that was across the way checking temperatures of everyone. I asked her to read it. She gave me a thumbs up and a couple minutes later an officer stepped in the area where the guy behind me could clearly see him. They got me in pretty quick, distracted him and kept him away from me.

That guy had no clue who I am. I am not a racist at all. Had my husband been there he wouldn't have said a word to me. He sure wouldn't have called me a "racist white bitch". I cannot help but feel like this is racism in reverse. I'm sorry but it makes no sense to me that people protest and scream BLM, no justice no peace and racism needs to stop; yet many of them do the very thing to others that they are trying to stop!

Now please understand, I do not think that all African Americans are like this asshat was today. Those that I know and call my husband, family and friends are hard working, family loving people just like me. They are in my inner circle because of WHO THEY ARE, not what color they are. It saddens me to see first hand that a few crazy nutjobs on all sides can cause such division in my city and country that I love. It hurts me even more to realize I'm afraid to be around people in public right now too. It's just not safe. Too many nutjobs running loose, looking for a fight. 😢

Had I not had enough self control to not take the bait this guy was throwing at me this could've ended so much differently. The Tulsa race riot started over nothing more than a false rumor. Please, if you are out and about and cross paths with a loose cannon, don't engage with them. All it takes is a spark or a false rumor to start a riot. It's not worth it.

And people wonder why we who LIVE in Tulsa do not want the rally's and stuff right now. It's a friggin powderkeg here. People's lives are at stake.

I will delete any comments I do not like. It's my post, don't like it, keep scrolling or feel free to unfriend me.

Jun 17, 2020

Is AA the Only Way?

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

6/17/20

This is my response to someone's question on Facebook. They wanted to know if AA was the only way to stay sober.

I will not say he succeeded through sheer willpower. However, my grandfather was a raging alcoholic. This was 40 years ago. He started having heart problems and was told he needed a pacemaker. Way back then getting a pacemaker was as risky as open heart surgery because they were still new. He told me after I got sober that the night before his surgery he prayed and made a deal with God. He told God if he made it through surgery he'd never drink again, get involved in church and help others. To his dying day he did that. He always told me that God got him sober. He also told me, "Andi, it's obvious that this A and A thing is working for you so stick with it! Not everyone needs church." I've stuck with AA since 7/5/1986 and have never relapsed by God's grace. I spent many times talking to my grandfather about how much better life was without alcohol. This is why I always tell people AA is not the only way to stay sober, it's the way that works for me. If you don't like AA, find another path. You can always come back. I thank God for my grandfather. 💜

Jun 13, 2020

Music

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

6/13/20

I think Heaven is full of nothing but beautiful music coming from the spirits of those around God's throne. And in this music there is no judgement. It does not matter what color your skin is, what political affiliations you have, who you love, what religion you are, how much money you have or anything else. All that matters is being in God's presence, in unity and love, sharing the music of our hearts.

You may think I am crazy but I do not care. See, a few months after my granddaughter Zoey died I saw her dancing to the music at God's throne. It was the most unimaginably beautiful place I have ever seen. And the music? It vibrated through every cell in my being. I have seen my little grandson Mikey who died a few years after his sister Zoey dancing with her and my grandparents too. What a breathtaking and exquisite sight!

There are days this cruel, sick world gets to me. When it does, I lose myself in music and remember where I will be someday...dancing at God's throne with my grandchildren and others who have gone before me. When I do this it washes over me like the unspeakable oil of joy and suddenly all these worldly clamors do not matter anymore. 💜🙏

Jun 9, 2020

My Thoughts on George Floyd Death and Racism

My Thoughts on George Floyd and Racism

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Written 6/9/20

I have shared a few posts here and there regarding the current climate of hate and the tragic death of George Floyd, but I have not posted my personal thoughts. My thoughts are very simple. Rioting and violence of ANY KIND ARE WRONG under any circumstances. Protest your brains out, I don't care, but please get your message clear and know exactly what you're protesting for if you do, regardless of what side your on. I choose not to protest because I don't choose to risk getting shot by some fringe nutjob, on either side.

Now, those of you who know me and are a part of my life, my inner circle, let this thought sink in...

THAT COULD HAVE JUST AS EASILY BEEN MY HUSBAND INSTEAD OF FLOYD.

Kinda hits home doesn't it? Let that sink in REAL DEEP.

Was any of this caused from a totally racist society? Nope. There are sick, twisted people in this country and world from ALL RACES. It's a human problem. So, I think we should stop making this a race issue and make it a HUMAN issue.

I do not believe in white, Native American, African American, Hispanic, etc "privilege". I believe ANYONE born in the USA is privileged much more than the majority of others in this world. I refuse to apologize for being white/Native American. I also don't think my husband, who happens to African American and French, should apologize for his ethnicity either. We are who we are. God made us that way.

It is up to each person what they want to make of their lives. It takes hard work and great sacrifice to be successful. If it were actually about being a privileged race then explain to me why I'm lower middle class and Oprah is a billionaire. It's all about the choices we make in life.

In the end, as my husband put in our vows, all there is LOVE. Until ALL people unite under God and get back to LOVE as Jesus (my Higher Power) and other religions teach we are doomed. So, put down your protest signs, go home, sow LOVE into your family FIRST, then let ripple out to others.

I don't give a crap about your political affiliations, whether your KKK, BLM or whatever the hell else is out there. Keep it to yourself. I posted this to share my heart and my heart is not up for dissection or debate. Any negative, hateful comments or any I just don't like will be deleted. That's what I love about Facebook...delete, block and unfriend. Wish life was that easy.

May 6, 2020

Wet Brain

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

5/6/2020

I am writing this here because this is my safe place and I do not want it broadcasted all over Facecrack land in order to protect my friend.

I have a friend in recovery whom I have talked to at least once or twice a day for the last 8 years. She admitted to me that she had a couple of relapses over the years but always appeared to get right back into recovery, meetings, steps, etc. Over the last few months she started getting physically sick. I never thought she might be drinking. I hadn't seen her for a month or so due to the pandemic but her fiance called a week ago and asked me to help him get her to the doctor. So I rushed over.

She was skin and bones and totally out of her mind as far as dates and times. She knew me but thought it was 6 months earlier. We couldn't get her to go to the doctor and it was obvious that she was a danger to herself in her mental state. So, we called an ambulance and had her taken to the hospital. She has been confused and refused to eat since being there. The doctors ran all kinds of tests.

I managed to talk to her night before last on the phone. She knows me but her thoughts are all scrambled. She wanted to know why I hadn't got to the airport to pick her up yet.

I found out today that she has wet brain. Apparently she has been sneak drinking for quite a long time. No one knew. I never picked up on it. She is extremely malnourished. The doctors don't know if she will ever make it back mentally.

I am devastated to say the least. I've been sober since 7/5/1986. I realized today that I forgot how hideous and heartbreaking alcoholism is. The Bigbook says it's a "rapacious creditor" and I know that is true. I will never be able to explain why I'm still sober with no relapses and my precious friend is not. I don't understand why she has to go through this.

It's easy to forget what a deadly disease alcoholism is until we walk through something like this. Please, please if you are even thinking about drinking....DON'T DO IT. STOP. Pray and reach out to someone. Hit a meeting somewhere online, face-to-face or whatever. Just DON'T DRINK.

My heart is so completely broken right now. Please pray that God brings my friend back and keeps her sober. 🙏😢🙏

Mar 30, 2020

COVID 19 Comment for Kaylee

This is a comment I wrote in response to a post my granddaughter Kaylee made about being scared for her dad, my son, having to go back to work amid this virus that has the whole world on lockdown…

Kaylee Zelsnack God is in charge of this world, this universe. Not man, not the evil one. God is. He gave His only son to save us. His bore the stripes on His back to heal us. Your daddy, my son is protected by the Holy Spirit…all of you are, me too. I pray every day that God send a legion of angels and the anointing of the Holy Spirit to protect all of us. So I know that your daddy is going to be ok. I know that we will all get through this. My prayers avail much, just like my mom’s and grandmother’s prayers availed. I am living proof that prayer works. I should have died many times over and prayers kept me alive and changed me. I’m telling you this so you don’t need to feel afraid. You focus on JESUS not this virus. It has no power over us.

Psalms 91 says:
1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
3 Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you make the Most High your dwelling– even the LORD, who is my refuge–
10 then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 “Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.”

This is what you pray over your daddy and your whole family every day. I pray it over us all every day too. Times like this we have to keep our eyes on Jesus. I love you my sweet Kaylee! 🙏😢🙏

Feb 18, 2020

Prayers for My Family

Feb 8, 2020

My Bathroom

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

2/8/20

I am sure that by the time you finish reading this, many of you will think I am crazy. That is fine. Just try to read with an open mind. Hopefully by the end you will understand my heart.

As far back as I can remember, the bathroom has always been my safe place. I think that is because as a child it was the only place I could go to get away from everyone, especially when I took a bath. I could lock the door and shut the chaos out. As a young woman my bathroom became the place where I would pray.

Over the years my bathroom has become my "war room" to intercede for others and myself in times of trouble. It is also my sanctuary where I worship God. Nobody else is there to watch or judge, it is just me and my God. So, my nightly bathtime has become a spiritual ritual for me.

I was listening to TD Jakes the other night. He was talking about churchgoers who skip the praise and worship and only show up for the sermon. He said that preaching is God speaking to us through a person, it something we take from God. Praise and worship is something we give to God. Bishop Jakes said most people only want to take from God. Yet, if they only understood that when they truly give to God through worship He overwhelms us with the greatest blessings.

Tonight, I was thinking about that as I drew my bath. I have been going through alot lately. Life has a way of throwing us curveballs and mine has been pretty curvy lately. So, I decide to play music from my all time favorite worshipper, Rich Mullins. His music is etched on my heart.

I was soaking in my bath, listening to the music with my eyes closed. I thought about how Rich Mullins died way too soon. Then I saw myself at God's throne and Rich Mullins was playing. People were worshipping God. It was so beautiful. I was standing there in awe when I felt someone grab my hand. I looked over and it was my sweet Zoey. I could see Mikey, my other grandchildren and loved ones who have gone on to Heaven around us. Zoey looked at me and said, "GeGe, don't you understand? God needed him here more than He needed him on earth." I smiled at her and said, "Zoey, you all are the blessed ones. You get to worship God all the time. How awesome that must be!" We hugged and Zoey was gone.

It is no coincidence that Zoey came to me today. She was born on February 28, 2006. Lived 11 minutes and captured my heart forever. God knew I needed a message from her. She reminded me that no matter how twisty-windy, scary life gets God is there, ever present and fighting for me.

My favorite song of Rich Mullins for all time is Hold Me Jesus. It is the song that I was listening to when Zoey came to me. Enjoy listening to it and remember God is there with you.

Today, I am very grateful for my bathroom.

https://youtu.be/d9T3tL5U67w

Jan 30, 2020

Ode to Mikey

I wrote this about my grandson Michael Aidyn Jude Zelsnack born January 30, 2008. Always loved, never forgotten. 💜💜💜

Written on Apr 14, 2010

Ode to Mikey

by Andrea Tadpole

Born on a stormy sea of silence

His tiny life beyond my grasp

His spirit carried away on angel's wings

With all my hopes and dreams

I never got to see him smile

I never saw his eyes

I never felt his tender touch

Or listened to his cries

Waves of sorrow pulled me down

To horrid depths of grief

I feared I'd never reach the top

Breathe free or find relief

What was his purpose

Why was he here

Why was he meant to be

There had to be a lesson

If I could only see

Then I heard him in the silence

Calling out my name

Rise up, go home and live your life

Walk on amidst the pain

Take care of those I've left behind

Never let them go

Forgive them even if it hurts

And when your pride says no

Hold tight to God

Keep the faith

And then you'll see

That I am always with you

I am happy

I am free

Jan 11, 2020

Death

Seems appropriate to repost this. I wrote it back in 2016.

Death

by Andrea Tadpole Broussard

Please indulge me while I pour my heart out in words. It seems that's the only way I know how to release my emotions.

Today is January 11, 2016. January is a happy - sad month for me. Happy because my son's birthday is the 6th and one of my granddaughter's is the 23rd. Sad because my grandson Mikey died January 30th, he would've been 8 this year. My sister-in-law Rhonda died January 9th, 2 years ago. This year is even more sad because my ex father-in-law Mike Zelsnack whom I dearly loved died on January 7th and I just found out another friend in my recovery life died unexpectedly today. He was my age. I am stunned.

As I sit here I wipe the tears so I can see to write. My mind flips through all the family and friends who have made their transition to Gloryland. There's Dewina, Stella, Mike Z, Gina, my 2 grandbabies, my grandparents, George Gibbs, Harold Inman, today Mike B....the list goes on and on.

Mike B was a friend who I always saw at meetings. I remember his first meeting when his dad Delbert introduced us. I got the rare opportunity to watch the metamorphosis of recovery happen in him over the years. What a beautiful gift! He was a kind man with a gentle spirit who loved his wife Melody truly, madly and deeply. My life was blessed for knowing him. He will be greatly missed.

It's times like this that Heaven feels a million light years away. Yet, I know when I sit real still in the quiet I get a glimpse of Heaven in my midst and I realize it's only a breath away. Once in a while I feel the presence of a loved one who has gone on before me and I know they are okay. Then I can breathe and keep living for today.

I'm not a religious nut but I do read and know the Bible. When I heard of Mike B's passing today this scripture popped in my mind and I was reminded that my hope lies in Jesus:

1 Corinthians 15: 50-58
I declare to you, brothers and sisters, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed - in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true:

“Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

To Mike B, his family, to all my family who have lost loved ones, to our loved ones in Heaven...my prayers are with you all. Death is not the end, it's a transition. Those who've gone on are the truly blessed ones because they're at God's throne. May they dance at God's feet until we meet again.

Jan 7, 2020

Daddy-Daughter Date

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

1/6/2020

Last night my Dad called me and asked me if I wanted to go running around with him today, just me and him. I said, "You mean a Daddy-Daughter date like the one when you took me to Arthur Treachers Fish and Chips when I was a little girl?" He laughed and said, "Sure! We can grab something to eat while we are out." So we planned our date.

Here I am, 57 years old and I was just as excited as I was 50 years ago when I went on my first Daddy-Daughter date with him. There have been others over the years but for some reason this time I felt more special than I have in a long time. I woke up early and made myself look as pretty as I could. As I did, memories flooded my mind of my mother fixing my hair and dressing me up real pretty so long ago. I felt like a princess way back then.

Today, my Dad came and picked me up. We spent a few hours running errands around town. We were trying to decide where to eat lunch and my Dad said, "I would take you to Arthur Treachers if I could." They closed up many years ago, but hearing him say that melted my heart. We settled for lunch at Cracker Barrel. We just spent time together talking and laughing. We stopped by my son's house to see him for his birthday. We got to see my little grandson Michael and my daughter-in-love Victoria too. I sat there and watched Michael play peekaboo with us and realized there were three generations in the room. I thought how blessed I am that I still have my Dad around.

I have always been a Daddy's girl. The journey we have been on together has not always been perfect. Through my teenage years and young adulthood we often fought things out like two rams colliding with our horns. I spent a lot of time angry at the world and shut him out. Yet, we always seemed to find our way back to eachother. That is how love is, it never gives up.

Like I said, I have always been a Daddy's girl growing up even though I would not let anyone know. He was tall and strong and no matter how mad he might be at me he would come to my rescue at the drop of a hat. Today he is much older and not as strong but I know he would rescue me if he could. He was my hero back then and still is today.

I realized today I did not take any pictures. I always take pictures. It occurred to me that I was too busy feeling like a princess and enjoying my Daddy-Daughter date with my sweet Daddy. Today is etched in my heart just like our date at Arthur Treachers so many years ago.

I love you Daddy 💜

Jan 5, 2020

Seddy

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I am laying here tonight remembering what I was doing 38 years ago. I was half way through a 48 hour labor. It was long and hard. The little one I carried was what we now call my rainbow baby. The one I carried after I lost my first baby.

I remember from the day I found out I was pregnant I knew I was having a boy. I just knew it in my heart. I also knew his name would be Sedrick and I would call him Seddy. I prayed every day that God would protect him and keep him safe. I sang old hymns like Amazing Grace, Sweet Chariot and How Great Thou Art to him all the time before he was born and every night after he was born. We always sang together as he got older.

When he was born the only thing I wanted to hear was his cry. When I heard his cry I could finally breath again inside. Seddy truly was and still is my rainbow. He has always found a way to make me smile and laugh, even in the darkest times. He is my oil of joy just like his little boy is for him today.

My mind is flooded with memories about my sweet Seddy. I remember when he was little he climbed everywhere. I was always finding him hiding in cabinets. He was so smart and observant. He got his first stitches when he was 2 years old. He figured out how to take a broom and knock the hook lock loose on the door to the basement stairs so he get some cookies on the shelf next to the door! He has always been independent like that.

As he got older, before school age he would always wake me up by singing to me. He always made up songs. I loved them. He got interested in music in high school and started writing his own songs. He played the guitar, drums and any other instrument he picked up. His music was and is like medicine to my soul. As a young man, Seddy has always had a passion for Christ. He played in praise and worship for his church. He has always loved people and brought joy to them through music.

Seddy has been through his own hard knocks in life. I remember the day I realized he had become a man in my eyes. It was the day he placed his tiny daughter Zoey's casket in the ground. I remember I drove him and Zoey's mom home from the funeral and the song Jesus Take The Wheel came on the radio. It was exactly what we needed to hear. A few years later he had to bury his little stillborn son. His first marriage was a casualty from all the grief. Yet, he stayed true to his daughter Kaylee and has always been there for her. He is an awesome father.

Eventually he got remarried to his beautiful wife Victoria. They had a son, Michael Charles, a little over a year ago. I saw the joy return to Seddy when he held his son. It was such a holy moment.

Seddy is now Sedrick to everyone. He's a salesman and just like his great grandfather Shelby, he can sell sno cones in a snow storm. He just has that gift. I have watched him battle Lupus daily but still keep pushing through. His perseverance amazes me.

I am the proudest mother in the world when it comes to my son. He has become all I ever wanted him to be and more. He works hard. Loves his family with all that he is and most of all loves and serves the Lord. I am so blessed to be his mom.

I love you Seddy. I always have and always will.

I know I am a day early but...

Happy birthday!!

Mom 💜

Mile Markers

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

1/5/2020

I am a recovering alcoholic. I have been sober since 7/5/1986. I have stayed sober through God's grace and mercy and with the help of a 12 step program. Along my journey, God has blessed me with different women who have been my spiritual teachers. I call these women my sponsors. Believe me, I would not be here without them. They have given freely of themselves and taught me how to use many spiritual tools in my sober life.

I was headed home yesterday from grocery shopping and I started thinking about stuff going on in my life. Most of it I cannot control and I was worrying about it. I started talking out loud to God about it while driving down the road. Then out of nowhere I heard Him say, "Where are your mile markers Andrea?" See, my sponsor told me many years ago to make sure and erect mile markers in my life. These mile markers are things that I can look back on that I could see the hand of God working in my life. They will help me have faith when life is hard. They will remind me that God has never left me and never will.

So, I started thinking about my mile markers. I remembered a time when I was 23 or 24 years old. I was in the first 6 to 9 months of my sobriety. My children were 2 and 4 years old. I was a single mom, attending college and very active in 12 step meetings. I had a work study job at the school but money was tight. This one particular night it was a few days before payday. I had a couple of dollars left. I stood there putting my last few dollars in my gas tank and thinking I could go to my 12 step meeting and make coffee as I had committed to do and I would not have enough gas to get to class the next day. Or, I could skip the meeting, go home and make it to class the next day. I stood there debating in my mind what to do. Then I thought if I do not have my sobriety I will lose my children and school will be a faded memory so I better go to my meeting. I said a prayer and asked God to take care of me. No one knew of that prayer but me and God.

I showed up early to my meeting and was making coffee. One of the old timers came in. His name was Harold Inman. He had been sober longer than I had been alive and he was like a grandfather to me. He always encouraged me. I remember him telling of being in prison and having to put cardboard in his shoes because he had holes in them and would rather blow his money on booze than buy new shoes. Yet, here he was a fine and intelligent man. He worked for attorneys and judges and was esteemed by them all. I had the greatest respect and admiration for him.

After Harold and I got the meeting set up people started coming in. We were busy greeting them. Right before the meeting started Harold called me down the hall away from everyone. He hugged me and slipped $60 in my hand. I started crying because I had not told anyone about my earlier prayer at the gas pump. I told him I could not take the money because I could not pay it back. He said, "Andrea, God told me to do this. I never said you had to pay it back. Just pay it forward some day." I thanked him and promised him I would. I was able to fill my gas tank, get food for my kids for a few days and make it through till my next payday.

I will never forget that milemarker. For me, it was a holy, sacred moment when I saw God in a man. Harold and I remained friends until he went to be with the Lord. I paid it forward many times, still do in different ways. Harold taught me that.

Life gets crazy and scary at times. Everyone says, "It will all work out and I am praying for you." Once in awhile, God speaks to someone who is listening and brings an angel to take care of us. I am so grateful for those angels today. I am blessed with many mile markers. So, tonight I am going to remember them and rest in His blessed assurance that everything will be alright. He has never left me and never will.

Jan 3, 2020

My Prayer Today

I have not paid alot of attention to the chaos of this world lately because I have my own stuff going on right now. However, the news caught my eye today and all the wars and rumors of wars got my heart stirred up. So, I went to my prayer closet, also known as my bathroom and God gave me a prayer.

Now before I begin, I do not care who you did or did not vote for. I do not care what denomination you are, your race, sexual identity, party affiliation or anything else. I just do not care. That is not what this is about.

Also, I wanted to pull my little family together and hold hands and pray, at least that is the vision I had in my spirit. That is impossible to do since we are spread out near and far. So, as you read this imagine us all in a circle, holding hands in a prayer of agreement. If we need anything right now, WE NEED TO PRAY. Here goes...unedited...

My Prayer Today 1/3/2020

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Father God I come before you with my family and friends right now. Lord I know you see all that is going on in this world. I know that you see each of our lives and all the things we struggle with every day. Father, right now I am scared. I do not know what the next day, weeks or months are going to bring for any of us. I have no answers and all I see are clouds rolling in. Just like the apostles on the boat in the storm with your Son we are all freaking out and hanging on. Please calm this storm!! Please bring us all peace in this crazy world.

Lord, I think about my youngest grandchild, my only grandson. What will he see when he is grown and I am no longer here? What will my granddaughters see? What will my children have to endure? Lord please strengthen each of them and give them greater faith in You than I could ever have because they will need it. God I know it was not by chance that they were born. They were born for such a time as this. You have a purpose for each of them. Please protect them and give them the peace that passes all understanding. Give them the eyes of the Holy Spirit so they know which way to go.

Father God I call down a legion of angels around my family and friends to protect us all. Lord I ask you to keep our children and grandchildren safe. Lord Jesus reveal yourself to them like you have to me so many times in my life. If I did not have my faith in you Lord, I would have ended it long ago.

Lord, above all, I hit my knees tonight in prayer for ALL leaders in this nation and the world. Shut their mouths and bring us peace. Father God I pray for our military, young sons and daughters out there serving for us. Please protect them and bring them home safe.

I pray all this in the name of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen and amen.

Dec 27, 2019

My Little Angel

I feel like I should say this before I tell you my story. I know that most of my current writings are about grief, loss and the hard knocks of life. Sometimes I write happy stuff, but lately life has been real hard. When it is like that, the grief comes back. It is a cathartic type of release to write it out. On one hand I feel as though I should apologize for it; yet on the other it's my reality. So, if you are looking for froofy, happy stories look elsewhere. This my voice for now. Hopefully it will change soon. If it helps someone to read it, give God the credit, not me. Here goes...

My Little Angel

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/27/19

My attention span is short so I rarely watch a television movie all the way through. However, last night I stumbled upon a movie called The Coat of Many Colors about Dolly Parton. During the movie there was scene where Dolly's mother gave birth to her little brother too early and he did not survive. During this part of the movie a song was playing that Dolly wrote called Angel Hill. It was about the hope of a soon coming child and the sorrow of losing him. Sometimes I hear a song for the first time and it evokes deep emotions and memories that are hidden far inside my heart. This song was one of them.

The song took me back to when I was 18 years old. I had been married a few months to my first husband. I found out I was pregnant and I was so excited. Back then we did not have DNA tests or ultrasounds. You could not find out what you were having but I always knew in my heart that I was carrying a little boy. I was still young and full of hope for our future. Life had not kicked my teeth in....yet.

About 3 months into the pregnancy I lost my little boy. Miscarriages were not talked about in that day. They just did a D & C and sent you home. I will never forget the hollow, broken feeling I had inside. My husband moved us out of town to live with his parents. I think he hoped a change of scenery would help me. We had a bedroom upstairs. I hid there and rarely came out for anything. The sorrow and despair was so deep I could not move. It seemed like I was there for years but I know it was only a month or so. It felt like a deep darkness overtook me. No one spoke to me about my baby, not even my husband. It felt like the whole world wanted me to forget him, suck it up and move on but I did not know how.

One day, my mom came into town. Her mother's instinct had kicked in. She just knew something was wrong and she came to check on me. I was in bed, running a fever. She rushed me to the doctor. I guess I had just been so depressed I did not realize how sick I was. I had a kidney infection. My mom did her best to get me well and went home.

Soon after that, someone gave me a little kitten that needed to be bottle fed. They found it abandoned and alone. At about the same time, we managed to get our own apartment. Every 2 hours I would get up and feed this tiny kitten. She gave me a sense of purpose and it made me get out of bed. I named her Tina after my best friend in school as a child. I would sit and hold little Tina wrapped in a blanket and cry. I told her everything no one else wanted to hear. She eventually grew up, but in those few weeks of nurturing her she helped me climb out of the pit of sorrow. She was my best friend for her entire life. It always amazes me how God has used animals so many times in my life to love me and teach me things.

A few months later I got pregnant again. I held my breath inside the whole time I was pregnant, until I heard my son Sedrick cry. He truly was and still is my oil of joy just like his son Michael is to him and his momma now. Life went on and I had my daughter Alicia a few years later but I never forgot the little boy I lost.

I have always called my first son my little angel. It was about this time of year that I lost him. That explains the sadness that has been gnawing so much at my heart lately. I long deeply to see his face and hug him when I get to Heaven some day. I do not sit around in deep sorrow anymore about him, but he is always there. He is a part of me and for me, he was alive inside me and still is in my heart. It is a love only a mother can understand.

This song, Angel Hill is about the place Dolly's little brother was buried. For me, Angel Hill is a place deep in my heart where my little angel lives. It is also a place in Heaven where we will meet again.

Oh, my little angel! You are alive in my heart forever and never forgotten. I will meet you on Angel Hill some day.

I love you more,

Momma 💜

Watch "Alyvia Alyn Lind and Dolly Parton Singing Angel Hill Live on Home & Family, May 31, 2016" on YouTube

https://youtu.be/F9J15walujY

Dec 25, 2019

Dressing Zoey

I started writing this on 12/23/19 but I thought it fitting to post it on Christmas. So, get a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and read what is in my heart because it is all I have to give this Christmas.

Dressing Zoey

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/23/19

Lately, my life has been a chaotic mess. My husband almost died right in front of me a couple weeks ago. My birthday was right after that and it sucked. We had plumbing problems at our house the other day. Then, today has been totally hectic. I have been trying to sort out last minute Christmas details with my daughter and got nowhere. To top it all off, the radiator hose on my car busted. This evening I felt like my whole world was falling down around me.

I stumbled into bed earlier and my husband was watching a movie about the life of Christ and the crucifixion. I laid there and watched it. There was a scene toward the end that really pierced my heart. It was when Mary Magdalene was cleaning and dressing Jesus's body after they pulled Him down from the cross.

This scene took me back to a moment in my life with my little granddaughter Zoey. Zoey was born at 18 weeks gestation. She lived 11 minutes. In those few moments I saw her spirit. It was indescribably beautiful; yet it was horrible because I knew she was not long for this world.

After Zoey went on to the arms of Jesus, her mother begged me to find a white dress for her. So, I bolted out of the hospital and drove all over town searching for a tiny, white dress for Zoey. I drove, looked and cried for what felt like days even though it was only a few hours. Finally, I happened to see a sign that said "Kathleen's Toys" on it. Kathleen is my middle name so I decided stop in. I explained to lady at the counter that I needed a little, white dress to bury my beloved granddaughter in. She showed me a dress for a newborn baby. I explained that it was way too big and told her how tiny Zoey was. She sadly told me she had nothing that small in stock.

Just as I was walking out the door of the store a tiny doll dressed as a bride in a beautiful white dress caught my eye. It was in the back corner on the bottom shelf of a glass display case right by the door. I stopped in my tracks and called the store clerk over. She was just as surprised as I was because she did not remember having that doll. It just so happened that the price was exactly the amount of money I had to spend down to the penny. I know to this day that one of God's angels put that there for Zoey.

I returned to the hospital with the dress. When I got there I am sure everyone was there somewhere but here is what I remember. Zoey's mother was still holding her wrapped in a little blanket. Zoey's great grandmother Barbara was there too. I showed them the dress I had found. Zoey's mother burst out in tears and said it was perfect and everything she imagined.

I had not expected to be involved in dressing Zoey but there I was with Zoey's mother and her great grandmother. It was as if Zoey had asked God to have the two of us dress her. In my entire life I have never faced such a daunting task. I looked at Barbara and knew she was overwhelmed too. Yet, we both knew what a sacred and holy thing it was that we were about to do.

We had to be extremely careful while dressing Zoey because her skin was so delicate and her tiny bones so brittle that one wrong move would have been disastrous to any already heart crushing day. The whole time we were slowly and gently dressing Zoey I was praying in the spirit under my breath. I felt the hands of the Holy Spirit guiding me and Barbara every minuscule step of the way. The dress fit perfectly as if it were tailor made just for Zoey. She looked like an angel in it and I know I heard Heaven rejoice once we were finished.

So, tonight I was watching this scene in the show of Mary Magdalene dressing Jesus in His burial clothes. I thought how He knew the whole time she was following Him during His time on earth that she would be the one that was chosen to dress Him for burial. I can only imagine how she must have felt and the love she must have had for Him. I am by no means as precious as Mary Magdalene, not by any stretch. However, it was that same great love that Mary had for Jesus and I had for Zoey that gave me the strength to dress her. It called to my mind the even greater love that Jesus had for us all.

Most days I am a bumbling mess stumbling through life like a bull in China closet. I cannot see the forest for all the trees, let alone know what to do or which way to turn. That is exactly where I am right now. Yet, God, ever so lovingly in His own way, stops me in my tracks and reminds me of the things He has brought me through and the Holy, sacred moments that He has used me in spite of my imperfections in doing something as beautiful as dressing Zoey. He also showed me once again the greatest gift of love He has ever given us is His son.

I am finishing this story on Christmas day. I have had better Christmas days. This one is quiet and lonely and I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I am reminded of the tremendous, never ending love my Abba Father has for me and us all in the gift He gave us in Jesus. I am also forever grateful for the other gift He gave me, a messed up bag of bones grandma in being blessed in dressing Zoey.

So to my granddaughter Zoey, my grandson Michael AJ and a host of others in Heaven...you are the most blessed because you are there with Jesus rocking His house for his birthday! Dance, Zoey dance!!

To my family and friends here on earth with me, I love you more than I know how to say and miss you so much my heart hurts. We will celebrate together again some day.

Merry Christmas!!

Missing Jesus

I did not write this but I wish I had it's a beautiful story. Just what I needed. My life is a mess right now and I needed to be reminded that Jesus is still with working things out.

Missing Jesus

Author unknown

About a week before Christmas a family bought a new nativity scene. When they unpacked it they found 2 figures of the baby Jesus. "Someone must have packed this wrong," the mother said, counting out the figures. "We have one Joseph, one Mary, three wise men, three shepherds, two lambs, a donkey, a cow, an angel and two babies. Oh, dear! I suppose some set down at the store is missing a baby Jesus because we have 2."
"You two run back down to the store and tell the manager that we have an extra Jesus. Tell him to put a sign on the remaining boxes saying that if a set is missing a baby Jesus, call 7126. Put on your warm coats, it's freezing cold out there."

The manager of the store copied down mother's message and the next time they were in the store they saw the cardboard sign that read, "If you're missing baby Jesus, call 7126." All week long they waited for someone to call. Surely, they thought, someone was missing that important figurine. Each time the phone rang mother would say, "I'll bet that's about Jesus," but it never was.

Father tried to explain there are thousands of these scattered over the country and the figurine could be missing from a set in Florida or Texas or California. Those packing mistakes happen all the time. He suggested just put the extra Jesus back in the box and forget about it.

"Put baby Jesus back in the box! What a terrible thing to do," said the children. "Surely someone will call," mother said. "We'll just keep the two of them together in the manger until someone calls.

When no call had come by 5:00 on Christmas Eve, mother insisted that father "just run down to the store" to see if there were any sets left. "You can see them right through the window, over on the counter," she said. "If they are all gone, I'll know someone is bound to call tonight."
"Run down to the store?" father thundered. "It's 15 below zero out there!"

"Oh, Daddy, we'll go with you," Tommy and Mary began to put on their coats. Father gave a long sigh and headed for the front closet. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. Tommy and Mary ran ahead as father reluctantly walked out in the cold. Mary got to the store first and pressed her nose up to the store window. "They're all gone, Daddy," she shouted. "Every set must be sold."
"Hooray," Tommy said. "The mystery will now be solved tonight!"

Father heard the news still a half block away and immediately turned on his heel and headed back home. When they got back into the house they noticed that mother was gone and so was the extra baby Jesus figurine. "Someone must have called and she went out to deliver the figurine," my father reasoned, pulling off his boots. "You kids get ready for bed while I wrap mother's present."

Then the phone rang. Father yelled "answer the phone and tell 'em we found a home for the baby Jesus." But it was mother calling with instructions for us to come to 205 Chestnut Street immediately, and bring three blankets, a box of cookies and some milk. "Now what has she gotten us into?" my father groaned as we bundled up again. "205 Chestnut. Why that's across town. Wrap that milk up good in the blankets or it will turn to ice before we get there. Why can't we all just get on with Christmas? It's probably 20 below out there now. And the wind is picking up. Of all the crazy things to do on a night like this."

When they got to the house at 205 Chestnut Street it was the darkest one on the block. Only one tiny light burned in the living room and, the moment we set foot on the porch steps, my mother opened the door and shouted, "They're here, Oh thank God you got here, Ray! You kids take those blankets into the living room and wrap up the little ones on the couch. I'll take the milk and cookies."
"Would you mind telling me what is going on, Ethel?" my father asked. "We have just walked through below zero weather with the wind in our faces all the way."
"Never mind all that now," my mother interrupted. "There isn't any heat in this house and this young mother is so upset she doesn't know what to do. Her husband walked out on her and those poor little children will have a very bleak Christmas, so don't you complain. I told her you could fix that oil furnace in a jiffy."
My mother strode off to the kitchen to warm the milk while my brother and I wrapped up the five little children who were huddled together on the couch. The children's mother explained to my father that her husband had run off, taking bedding, clothing, and almost every piece of furniture, but she had been doing all right until the furnace broke down.

"I been doin' washin' and ironin' for people and cleanin' the five and dime," she said. "I saw your number every day there, on those boxes on the counter. When the furnace went out, that number kept going' through my mind. 7162...7162. Said on the box that if a person was missin' Jesus, they should call you. That's how I knew you were good Christian people, willin' to help folks. I figured that maybe you would help me, too. So I stopped at the grocery store tonight and I called your misses. I'm not missin' Jesus, mister, because I sure love the Lord. But I am missin' heat. I have no money to fix that furnace."

"Okay, Okay," said father. "You've come to the right place. Now let's see. You've got a little oil burner over there in the dining room. Shouldn't be too hard to fix. Probably just a clogged flue. I'll look it over, see what it needs."
Mother came into the living room carrying a plate of cookies and warm milk. As she set the cups down on the coffee table, I noticed the figure of baby Jesus lying in the center of the table. It was the only sign of Christmas in the house. The children stared wide-eyed with wonder at the plate of cookies my mother set before them.
Father finally got the oil burner working but said, "You need more oil. I'll make a few calls tonight and get some oil. Yes sir, you came to the right place", father grinned.

On the way home father did not complain about the cold weather and had barely set foot inside the door when he was on the phone. "Ed, hey, how are ya, Ed?"
"Yes, Merry Christmas to you, too. Say Ed, we have kind of an unusual situation here. I know you've got that pick-up truck. Do you still have some oil in that barrel on your truck? You do?"
By this time the rest of the family were pulling clothes out of their closets and toys off of their shelves. It was long after their bedtime when they were wrapping gifts. The pickup came. On it were chairs, three lamps, blankets and gifts. Even though it was 30 below, father let them ride along in the back of the truck. No one ever did call about the missing figure in the nativity set, but as I grow older I realize that it wasn't a packing mistake at all.

Jesus saves, that's what He does.

Dec 20, 2019

Grandpa Shelby

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/20/19

What do I say about a man that was always around, busy doing something, yet quiet for the most part? He worked as a switchman for the Sand Springs Railroad and retired from it. He worked evenings and lived right across the street from the tracks. When we were kids we would always run out to the porch to wave at him when the train made it's way from Sand Springs to downtown Tulsa in the evening. He was always there, hanging on the side of the train to wave at us. We all looked forward to it.

I have heard stories of him being an angry drunk in his younger years but I never knew that part of him. When I got sober at 23 years old, one day he sat me down and said, "Andi, I don't know anything about this A-A-and A thing you're doing but don't stop if it's keeping you sober. I'm proud of you." Then he told about his own redemption story. Many years before he had heart problems and had to get a pacemaker put in. Back then they were new and it was a risky surgery. He told me the night before surgery he said a prayer and made a deal with God. If he made it through the surgery he promised God he would stop drinking, go to church and change his ways. He lived and never drank again. That was one of the few deep conversations I had with him and I remember it like it was yesterday. I will treasure it forever.

My grandpa did not attend church every Sunday but went as much as he could. He was always doing things like tithing and donating to others. He would give the shirt off his back to help someone. I always knew that his home was a safe place to run to when I needed shelter from life's storms. There was always a hot cup of Taster's Choice instant coffee to drink and food to eat, and a place to sleep no questions asked. As I grew in my sobriety I started to understand, he did the things he did because it was all part of the promise he made to God; but even more out of gratitude for the life he got to live.

My grandfather and grandmother ran a concession business. I grew up riding around in the sno cone truck with my grandpa. He would buy blocks of ice and grind the ice himself. This was before icemakers. The day he got a crushed icemaker was a big day! My grandmother made the sno cone syrup, cotton candy, caramel and candy apples and popcorn balls to sell. My grandpa also sold cotton candy and balloons at all the Christmas parades in this region. Everyone knew him as the sno cone man or cotton candy man.

He was the ultimate salesman. One Saturday in the winter, they needed money for food. It was snowing hard. He had me go with him to sell sno cones. I told him he was crazy, no one would buy a sno cone in this weather! Sure enough, he pulled to this one neighborhood, turned on his music and sold enough to buy groceries. That's why I always say he could sell anything, even sno cones in a snow storm! My son had that gift of selling too.

We never did without, even in the hardest times. I remember one time he went to an auction and brought home so many pairs of shoes that it filled a bedroom. There were all sizes from kids to adults and many styles. None of us went without shoes for a long time. I remember one Christmas he and grandma bought us all bicycles. The two of them were far from perfect but they always gave what they could to take care of us all the best they could.

It is funny the things we remember about someone. My grandfather was like a gentle giant to me. He never said much and he moved in a slow, kind of clumsy way. He always asked me to tie his shoes because it was too hard for him. He always taped his fingers because they cracked. In his later years he had Parkinson's but it never slowed him down. One of my fondest memories of him was when I was about 7 or 8 years old. He was at my house visiting and there was music playing. He jumped up, grabbed me and danced me around the room like Fred Astaire! Who knew he could dance like that?!

The older I get the more I understand how fortunate I was to have my grandparents around so much. All 4 of them planted seeds of wisdom in me that are still with me today.

Today is my grandpa Shelby's birthday. December 20th, 10 days after mine. We shared December birthdays just like I share with my little grandson Michael now. I hope to be as awesome to my grandchildren as my grandpa Shelby was to me. Happy birthday grandpa! Kiss my grandbabies that are in Heaven with you for me. I love and miss you!! Your little Andi. 💜

Dec 19, 2019

Brag About God

This was in response to a post my daughter-in-love put on Facebook asking others to brag about God (see pic)

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/19/19

Well...where do I start? If God had not rescued me when I prayed at the foot of my bed over 33 years ago I would have died from alcoholism and addiction. I would have missed out on raising my two beautiful children Sedrick Zelsnack and Alicia Zelsnack. I would have missed out on all the friendships I've had. I would have missed out on taking care of my grandmother during her fight with cancer and saying my final goodbye to her. I would have missed out on rebuilding my relationship with my dad Elmer Tadpole Jr and my mother Alice Tarrant. The years I've had with them are one of my greatest treasures. I would have missed seeing all my granddaughters come to this world and watch them grow and mature. I would have missed out on meeting you Victoria Zelsnack. You are a beautiful young woman and awesome mother. Last but certainly not least I would've missed out on welcoming your beautiful son and my precious grandson Michael to this world. This last year with him has been the indescribably awesome oil of joy for my old and tired heart. This is just a small list of all God has done for me. I could go on forever about the grace and mercy He has given me although I was and am so undeserving. Merry Christmas my beautiful daughter-in-love!! 💜💜💜

Dec 14, 2019

Thoughts

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

December 14, 2019

I have been sitting here for a while listening to praise and worship music. I have been trying settle mind and soothe my heart. I have been through alot this last week. I have had to keep it all together and its finally hitting me. The tears are rolling, the dam had broken and I cannot stop them. I hate it when I cry because I feel like I am weak. Yet I know if I just let it flow God has a way of healing me through the tears.

I will try to make sense of my thoughts and ramblings but I cannot promise anything. They are a jumbled up mess right now. So, please bare with me as I share my heart.

Last Friday my husband and I attended the funeral of a family friend three hours away. She was only 51 years old and just fell asleep one night and did not wake up. She was younger than me and it really hit me hard. It reminded me again of the frailty of life and not taking things and people you love for granted. The holidays are hard for me because too many of my loved ones have passed on. I do not know why, but this year my heart aches for them worse than ever.

The funeral of our friend was beautiful. I know that it sounds weird to describe it that way but it was beautiful. I felt the Holy Spirit rain down on us like I have never felt before. The music was amazing and I swear I heard angels singing along with us.

While we were singing I saw a vision of our friend, my loved ones and countless others in Heaven singing and dancing before God's throne. I was in awe. As much as I miss my loved ones I would not wish them back here in this crazy world even if I could. They are at God's throne, healthy, at peace and whole. What more could one want?

We came straight home from the funeral. A couple of hours later my husband got sick and was transported by ambulance to the hospital. I followed in my car. I got back to the ER room he was in just as a group of nurses and doctors were cutting off his shirt. The monitor showed a flat line. They were getting ready to put the paddles on his chest and he came back at the last minute. I stood there watching this man that I love so deeply nearly die. It was the most horrible feeling to know that I was helpless to do anything. All I could was pray and believe me, I prayed.

The hospital was jam packed and there were no regular hospital rooms available. The hallways of the ER were lined with sick people on gurneys and in wheelchairs all waiting for a room. At least we had a room in ER where I could close the doors. I shoved a couple of folding chairs together and tried to sleep a little.

We were in ER for two nights waiting on a regular room. I was exhausted and my back was aching with pain by the second night. I was to the point I could not take it anymore. I prayed and asked God to help me. Then, like an angel out of nowhere this housekeeper came in and saw what I was sleeping on. She told she had a surprise for me and came back in a few minutes with a recliner. That made me feel so good and I actually got a little sleep. The recliner reminded me that God sees us and answers even the smallest prayers right when we need them the most. We made it home Monday and my husband is weak but okay. It will take time for him to recuperate.

Tuesday was my birthday. I turned 57. It was uneventful and pretty much glossed over by everyone. Oh, they did the obligatory happy birthday. Well, everyone did but my husband. He had been through too much and forgot all about it. My daughter had my granddaughter buy and little cake for me and she and I ate it. It was a nice and I appreciate it. I do not expect anything huge for my birthday, just a simple "happy birthday, I love you" is enough.

I just feel forgotten by most of the people in my life unless they need something. It hurts when I am not acknowledged. I do not think that is asking too much. I often wonder if anyone really loves me for me or do they just love me for what I do for them? I wish someone just loved me. I do not know if I am making any sense but that is how I feel.

Anyway, I got through my birthday. My grandson was born two days after my birthday last year so he turned one on December 12th. I went to see him on his birthday. I always say he is our oil of joy. His smile and laughter fill my heart and take the sting of the hard knocks of life away. This little boy is an answer to prayer and I love him more than I have words to describe. Being with him for a little bit kinda reset me inside and calmed my spirit.

So, I was sitting here earlier thinking about this past week. My husband nearly died. God brought him back. Things could be so much worse. I could have been planning a funeral. Instead I am home. I am trying to get the laundry caught up. I am kind of back to my "weird normal" whatever that is.

The main thing I can take away from this week is that God will never leave me or forsake me. I listen to TD Jakes alot. I heard part of a sermon in the middle of this chaotic week. He said God will always give you a safe place to Hide; He will Hold you and He will Help you. I have seen God do this all week.

I have other things going on that I am afraid and worried about. Yet, I keep thinking of the disciples on the boat with Jesus during a storm. Jesus said peace be still and the storm stopped. I am reminded to keep my focus on God and He will guide and give me peace.

I am not a churchy person, I am a spiritual person. I met my Savior at the foot of my bed, alone and in despair 33 years ago. I am not perfect. If I was I wouldn't need a Savior.

Christmas is not about the gifts and commercialism it has become. It is about a loving Savior who chose to leave the glory of Heaven and become a man in order be our ultimate sacrifice. So, in the middle of all this holiday hustle and bustle just stop for a moment and remember what Christmas really is.

Merry Christmas to everyone and especially all my friends and family!! Oh, and thank God my husband is alive and I made it through this crazy week sober.