A Car Wreck to Remember: Revisited on the Two Year Anniversary Part 1

It happened two years ago.

The memory of that awful night will never leave me. Though the chilling realization that we almost died is ever present, the power of God is more powerful.

I never tire of recounting this amazing story. It doesn't matter  how many times I tell it, the awesomeness of it all never fades. God's hand made a definite showing that night.

Since it is the two year anniversary of mine and Steph's car wreck I thought it befitting to bring back my original post, but with more thoughts added to it; thus it is divided into two parts.



I should be dead.

Or at the very least in the hospital right now along with my older sister Steph. But I have a miraculous story to tell. One that bears Spiritual Warfare at the very heart of it.

Yesterday, Steph and I went to Panera Bread for dinner with some friends. I had changed my mind at the very last moment to actually go. I had planned to stay home, but decided against it when I realized I needed to pick up some things from the store before Friday.

We weren't planning to stay at Panera Bread past seven-thirty. We had music to practice for our parent's 25th vow renewal ceremony/celebration on Saturday. But we stayed later and then at the last minute decided to take one of my best friends, Rachelle, home after we had hit T.J. Maxx (another last minute decision) the library, and Walmart.

These details may seem trivial, but it all played a part in the story. In order for Rachelle to ride in Steph's car we had to put three heavy-duty card tables, for the party, in the trunk. It was tricky fitting them in there, but we managed to get them in the trunk.

We spent more time in T.J. Maxx and Walmart than all of us had anticipated. I couldn't find the particular gift card at the 'old' Walmart in Columbus that I needed. Frustrated, I told Steph and Rachelle that I'd just get it at the newer Walmart out by the highway.

We dropped Rachelle off at her house and then headed to the newer Walmart. We met up with Mom there and almost took Samuel  home with us. Once again, it took me a while to find the gift card, but I finally found it and we left for home.

During the drive, I worked on Christmas gifts while Stephanie practiced her speech for Mom and Dad's party. We had found it interesting that every time she came to the part of sharing the gospel she always blanked out. This continued all the way to Columbus and back. She told me, "Haley, Satan does not want me to share this."

The road from Columbus to our house is a dangerous one in the winter. Especially on a particular stretch known as Beck's Grove. We had come through there before just fine. Yes, there were patches of ice, but we had made it safely the first time.

While we were on this road Steph was practicing her speech once again. She was at the part of sharing the gospel when all of a sudden we began fish-tailing. Now Stephanie is a safe driver. I feel safe whenever I am with her.

But whenever the car started twisting, it seemed to go berserk. Steph said, "Don't worry, Haley, I got this," remembering Dad's instruction.

No matter what she did it was worthless. The car was headed for the left side of the road where a deep, wooded ravine seemed to be our destined doom. All of a sudden the car was turned around and the next thing I see is a white embankment and a tree coming at us. Stephanie shut her eyes through the whole thing, but I kept them open the entire time.

I remember screaming and hearing Stephanie scream. We slammed into the embankment and I thought that would be the end of it. I remember thinking, "God, I'm going to die today." But next thing I am being flipped upside down. I hear a loud crunch and screaming. I remember hitting the door, but I didn't feel it. While flipping, both of us felt like someone was holding us in a tight, comfortable embrace. We had our seat-belts on, but it was a stronger grip. Even when we were rolling we felt as though we were swaddled with soft pillows or something. There were angels holding both of us, I am sure of it.

All of a sudden I was suspended in midair by my seat-belt. I suddenly realized that I was repeating, "Oh my God" over and over again. I couldn't figure out where my seat had gone. My door looked odd and I couldn't figure out how to get out. All I could think of, was my sister dead?


Look for part two on Friday!

Releasing the Songbird: How the Lord Restored My Voice in an Unexpected Fashion

“Emily won’t be singing at the Right to Life gala tonight. There is no way.”

 With only two hours before the girls were supposed to leave, my declaration of Emily’s decommissioned state of health catapulted Stephanie into a series of frustrated and panicked exclamations.

Emily is one of our lead singers. Not only does she play violin she sings the third part harmony, finding intricate melodies that add a beautiful touch to our songs; an amazing asset to our group.

My two younger sisters, MacKenzie and Corrie have had to step up and fill in while I have been out of commission. They sing beautifully. It's amazing to hear the four of them combining their voices. 

Although I am recovering well, I have not been able to sing. The way a singer breathes changes the pH levels in the body. If you aren't used to it then you would pass out. Unfortunately I am still in the stage where my body isn't used to it. I merely try to breathe the proper way and faint. No joke.

December has been a busy month for the Long Family Singers. With a recording session at a nearby radio station, and four more gigs lined up there wasn't really any room for someone to get sick.

God had other plans.

Saturday, the sixth of December, we had a five hour gig at a coffee shop. As a lover of coffee I was determined to not miss this one. Even though I couldn't sing I could still play the piano. 

We were getting paid in coffee, how much more of a slice of heaven can you give a coffee addict such as myself?

Even though I had been practicing my Christmas music until midnight the night before, I was pumped up and ready to go. Always a good sign. 

To everyone’s astonishment and surprise I made it through the entire gig.

 Emily however didn't. She started having a panic attack on the way home. She felt incredibly weak and tired; so unlike herself.

Things weren't looking good.

We figured with two days of rest before the Right to Life Gala on Tuesday she should be good to go. Not the case however.

This next gig was important. We were performing in a wealthy club in one of the ritziest cities in our state. An opportunity we had never been presented with before. The expectations were raised higher than ever before. 

Monday night, Emily wasn't showing signs of improving; Stephanie was still hoping. All of us were. 

As I prepared to sleep that night an astonishing thought (one might even consider it absurd) skittered across my heart.

What if I sing tomorrow? Nah, that’s not possible, Lord, really, it isn't, well, not unless You perform a miracle. In which case I will be prepared to do whatever You want.

With that I fell asleep not giving it another thought.

The next morning while Emily was finishing up sewing her caroling skirt she commented to me that she wasn't feeling any better. Remembering my thought from the night before, I tried singing a few snatches of notes under my breath. Useless, why did I even bother? I felt sick, as I usually do, and quit.

Well Lord, I’m not going then.

Two hours before they were scheduled to leave Emily experienced an episode, quite similar to the ones I have/had. I knew what to expect and combated the symptoms, calming her down and cocooning her in a number of blankets.

Stephanie came up the stairs and I released the crushing truth (OK, maybe it wasn't that dramatic, but it was to her) Emily would not be singing, or going anywhere for that matter.

After Stephanie had a little rant I tried calming her down by saying,

“What if I go?”

“Haley, you can’t sing.” The look on her face was pure desperation and despair.

“Look, I have a history with the Lord healing my voice. Remember that one fourth of July I lost my voice and He healed it?”

“This is too risky! I am not a risk taker. I am not comfortable with you going. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even make it just practicing.”

Realizing that I wouldn't be making any headway with her I grabbed up my bottles of essential oils and tromped down the stairs. Deep down in my heart I knew this was something the Lord wanted me to do. He wanted me to sing.

I needed to pray and in private. (there were a couple of friends over at the time) I disappeared into the boys’ back bedroom and sank to my knees.

“God, we need a solution to this problem. You know our situation and we need another singer. Either heal Emily right now or give me my voice. You know I can’t sing, it’s too much for me to handle, but if this is something You want me to do please infuse me with Your strength and energy. Whatever happens tonight Lord, let it be for Your glory, and Your glory alone.”

My prayer was much lengthier; I was practically banging on the gates of heaven. As I prayed I felt this change happen in my body. It was as though this burning yet ice cold something was flowing through my veins. No kidding. I continued praying and begging the Lord to show us the answer.

Sing.

I blinked, unsure if that’s really what the Lord wanted me to do. You can understand my hesitancy because up until this point I hadn't been able to sing without passing out.

Sing.

The command was repeated in my mind. With the trickle of a smile tugging at my lips (yes, I was curious and excited to see what would happen) I stood up and began singing under my breath. I stopped singing after a few lines of Hark the Herald Angels Sing. I felt fine. Actually I felt rejuvenated. Well…keep going? So I opened my throat, lowered my jaw and sang with my full potential. I sang four Christmas songs in a row and felt great. I didn't even feel winded.

My face nearly burst with the strength of the smile, more like a grin, that refused to be wiped from my face. I let out a few ecstatic squeals and did a bouncy-like happy dance; wiggling with delight.

Thank You Lord!!!

I rushed out and found Stephanie telling her what had just happened. She gave me this tentative smile, not sure how to react. I could see the hope creeping in at the edges of her eyes.

“Steph, this is what the Lord wants me to do. I couldn't sing this morning, hours ago! I just prayed and I sang four songs all the way through. I feel great!”

She laughed and hugged me tight. After giving mom a brief rundown on what had occurred she says,

 “Well, go get ready.”

We were about twenty-thirty minutes down the road when I realized I had not taken my afternoon dose of supplements. One of them being a large dose of CoQ10 (I refer to them as my energy pills). Never mind that fact, I hadn't even brought along any of my medicines. No essential oils to prevent an episode, nothing. I didn't tell anyone because I wanted to limit the amount of spiking nerves as I possibly could.

Well Lord, I have no medicine. There is no room for me passing out or getting sick. Let’s defy the odds.

The evening was a smashing success. People were blessed, the Lord was glorified, and I survived; scratch that, I flourished. I felt like my old self, before all of the Lyme disease and such.

Every time I thought about what the Lord had done (we had a two hour drive home) I couldn't keep the smile from erupting across my face. The Lord had restored my voice to me.

Here are a couple of pictures taken that night.

Our fabulous caroling costumes which Emily concocted. You wouldn't believe it, but some of those capes are converted skirts. Ingenious, no?

Not a half bad looking bunch are we?

The next question I had was how long? I asked mom what she thought. She said, “It’s probably just temporary.”

Not what I wanted to hear, but maybe she was right. 

That night as I, once again prepared to sleep, I thanked the Lord profusely for letting me sing. It felt wonderful to be singing for Him again. Then I asked Him if He could make it permanent. Defy the odds and heal me completely. I surrendered it all to Him, it’s up to Him.

Thank You Lord for taking my faith to the next level.

I felt tired and sore for the next couple of days, but I can still sing. I can sing without feeling sick. He did restore my voice. Completely. Permanently. I feel like a restraint has been removed from my vocal chords. Not that I couldn't speak or anything. Singing is different. I love singing. When I sing it’s for the Lord. I worship Him with my voice.

Miracles still happen. I am one lifelong proof of that. (Though short as it has been thus far)

So whatever difficult situation you happen to find yourself in I encourage you to take it to the Lord. He may not always say yes or give what you ask, but He knows what’s best.

You can trust Him.

In the Kitchen with the Master Chef

Life is a lot like being in a kitchen where God is the Master Chef. He has all these dishes being prepared, ingredients out that at first glance one wonders what in the world they will be used for. What is their

purpose? Who wants to put apple cider vinegar in their salsa anyway? How would that improve the flavor? It smells horrific.

I am the little child who comes in and wants to put my fingers in the pie and mess it all up. Here is what I think should happen. Never mind what the recipe says, we don’t need the baking soda or the salt in chocolate chip cookies, what is wrong with you? I want to put in more sugar, it will make it deliciously

sweet, right? How about some milk? And we don’t need the raw eggs. Gross. Hey! What are you doing? Why are you beating all of those ingredients together? You are putting in the chocolate chips, the best part of this weird mess, in last? Why not put those in first?
Without any guidance, I could make a huge mess of the Master Chef's work. A good cook can always fix a mistake.

That’s how it is with God in real life. He is the Master Chef and I am the little child. He has the recipe of my life and He knows what is on the ingredients list. He has the perfect idea of what He wants me to turn into. He knows how much salt, and raw eggs I need in order to make me stick together under harsh circumstances, and the salt that is for flavoring. Oftentimes I am lost as to what He is doing. I have no idea what is going on. I don’t know what this trial’s purpose is. Building faith and trust in Him, certainly, but what else? Why the waiting? Why the silence? Why the rough mixing up? What was that for? Did I do something wrong? I am your child, right? Why would You do this to me? No, I don’t want to learn patience. That process never seems to end!

I have to trust that the Master Chef knows what He is doing and doesn’t need my help with the order of things. I have to be willing to keep my hands out of things and not stick my fingers in the unmixed cookie dough and exclaim with a puzzled look on my face, “What in the world is this and what are You doing?!”
The Lord is in control of my life. I have found that when my life seems to be spinning out of control, the Lord has it all under His control. Just like the cookie dough enduring the hand mixer digging its blades in there, and mixing it all up and seemingly out of control. The Master Chef knows that this is necessary.

He knows that in order for His masterpiece to be beautiful and
delicious it has to undergo a harsh process; including at least eighteen minutes in three hundred degree heat. He understands that this is vital in baking chocolate chip cookies. And for them to come out looking luscious and soft

I have to trust my Lord and Savior with the recipe of my life. If I am not willing to undergo the sufferings and hardships of the Christian life I will never take the next step further into having a beautiful heart and soul.

Have you submitted your life to the hand of the Savior? Are you undergoing difficult circumstances and doubting the Lord? 

Journey to Recovery

February 17, 2014 began the long, presumably four month journey of my recovery. I was still on the couch at this point, but I had gotten over my depressed and overwhelmed feeling.

Monday morning I felt highly motivated to start the regimen that I had been given. We didn’t have everything that I needed; mom still had to order quite a bit of it, but what we did have, I began to hit it hard. I had a new amount of energy to get better. Now that I knew what I was fighting I had a more focused and determined attitude.

I was up more on Monday and by that afternoon I was feeling faint. As usual, I had done too much too soon.

    If you know me, you know that I love giving my all. I like to see how much I can handle, and far too often, I push it beyond my limit and pay for it. I do it every time. I love it though.

I continued to get up more the next two days, but I finally conceded that even though I was taking supplements that would restore my health did not mean that I would magically be better in two days. That was a little disappointing for me to grasp in the beginning. You would think that I was used to living on the couch. In truth, I was! But after spending thirteen weeks on the couch I wanted up!

Patience. Patience is a valuable lesson that the Lord is teaching me over and over again in each and every area of my life. And patience I would need in order to endure this.
Fourteen weeks on the couch rolled by and I was getting ready to enter the fifteenth week. Almost four months on the couch.

The change came slowly, in subtle ways. For the first time in a couple of months I was able to sleep lying down. Due to the fact that I hadn’t been getting enough oxygen to my blood cells I had trouble getting enough air. When I tried to lay down I would feel a compressed feeling on my chest. As if I was being suffocated. It was scary and every time I accidentally threw myself into a panic attack. So I slept sitting up for almost four months straight. But then suddenly, that compressed feeing was gone, and I slept a whole lot better.

  Mom and dad went on a marriage retreat Wednesday through Friday, and circumstance would have it that I needed to watch the children and take charge of the house for a few hours. Of course, presumably from the couch. I could order the little minions around, ahem, my siblings and all would be well. But when I had to step up, something snapped. It was as if I had been given a recharged battery and inserted it in my adrenaline glands. I had a new found energy. Totally unexpected. I walked upstairs twice that evening for the first time in four months. The past couple of times I had been on the back of one of my older sisters. I didn’t feel winded. Not at all. I didn’t tell anyone because I was expecting a serious crash. I thought, ‘I am more than likely going to pay for this, but whatever.’

That night my heart rate soared to 142. The highest it had been ever. With wintergreen essential oil on my temples, calm music in my ears, and held tightly in the arms of my older sister Stephanie I calmed down within a minute.
I didn’t make the connection then, but now I realized I had paid for it, but compared to all the other times I had paid the piper for my actions this didn’t seem as bad.
But I didn’t pass out. Friday rolled around and I was still up and at it. I hadn’t sat on the couch at all, and I had gone upstairs again. Friday evening I packed up all of my stuff that was in the living room, which over four months had accumulated to quite a bit, and took everything to my room. I slept in my own bed the first time in four months.

My journey to recovery is not over. I confess, there are many times where I haven’t taken all of my medicine or stayed on the diet that I was put on. I’ve paid for that. Even now, as I write this, I’m paying for the bad decisions I have made. But through it all, I’ve learned valuable lessons. I am still reaping the benefits of this illness. I would not trade them for anything. I would not have it reversed. I’m thankful I went through that because I have grown closer to the Lord.

One lesson I’ve learned is through the taking of my medicine. It has to be consistent if it is going to work. Just like spending time with the Lord is necessary in order for us to grow closer to Him. We can’t expect to give Him a few minutes here and there and think that we will be fine to just get by with that. He wants a consistent relationship, not just an every now and then.

Are you facing a difficult time in your life right now? How is the Lord growing you through these trials?

Off the Couch!

I have allowed an outrageous amount of time to pass without posting anything. Some of you may be thinking that I am still sick and living on the couch. I am here to break the rumor and present you with the truth of things.

I am off the couch.

I lived a total of fifteen weeks on the couch, but I didn’t live them alone. The Lord was with me every minute of the day. He was by my side the entire time. His grace was poured out on me in a generous manner every single day.

For thirteen weeks I had no idea what was going on. I struggled with fears of dying, and what it could be. It is so much easier to face a known enemy than to charge straight ahead at an unseen object. You have no goal and you feel very lost. That’s how I felt. That is, until I finally realized that the Lord wasn’t going to let me die. No. I sought His will on the whole matter and He gave me the answer. But nasty ole satan had to have his way and torment me asking the question, “What if this is the Lord’s will? What if you are going to die and there is nothing that you can do about it?”
I wanted to run from it all. I didn’t want to be in this situation. I wanted it to be all over with. I wanted to sleep during the whole thing and wake up when it was gone.
Then the light bulb clicked on and the Lord opened my eyes. I wasn’t going to die; I had no peace and no grace because it wasn’t time yet. The Lord had not prepared me for the situation because it wasn’t here yet. He had given me the desire and the will to fight for a reason. Not so that I could buck His plans, but so that I could follow Him with a trusting heart.
I will admit that I did continue to struggle and doubt what the Lord had revealed to me, but He was faithful and true to his word.

Friday, February 14 I had some extensive blood testing done. I was nervous and anxious about it. What did I really have? Would we get the answers? Was it terminal? Was it something I would have to live with the rest of my life? Was it truly Lyme’s disease?

We didn’t get the full list of results until two days later on Sunday. I confess, I was overwhelmed at the magnitude of it all. I was shocked and depressed for a bit.
Here is what was/is wrong with me.

My kidneys and liver weren’t working properly.
I had inflammation and circulation issues.
Adrenal stress.
Hormonal imbalance.
Hidden heavy metals in my body
A hidden virus in my lymphatic system
Multiple bacteria that was invading the immune system.
My immune system was shot to pieces. I had yeast issues and the beginnings of Leaky Gut Syndrome.
And the grand finale, Mycoplasma.
Mycoplasma is a little germ that gets inside of the blood cells and wreaks havoc in your system. It totally depletes you of energy and drains you.

It felt huge, and every time the guy would tell me what he found I would hold my breath and wait for it to be something huge and horrible. Every one of these things is horrible, but none of them are terminal. Praise the Lord! The Lord kept His promise.

I am now on a four month plan to eradicate all of my issues. But that’s another blog post for another day.

God bless,
Haley

Here are the previous blog posts if you haven't been following my journey:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Where My Life Is Part 4

No, this is NOT what I do all day

I have a weird knack for confounding the medical community. My grandfather teases me about having these strange health issues that no one has ever heard of. I told him it was all part of my enigmatic personality.

  Two months has passed since I claimed the title Couch Potato, or as my mother affectionately calls me, (cue sarcasm) Sofa Spud. Yes, two months has truly passed. And I still remain an enigma to the medical community. No, I don't count that as an achievement....OK, maybe I do, but just a little bit.
All of my tests that I mentioned in my last post, in this series, went well. Everything looked fine, except the irregular behavior of my heart. The cardiologist determined that it wasn't my heart that was the issue, but rather, something causing my heart to react. Thus we don't have any definitive answers. Am however going to get more blood testing done.

 I am still on the couch, but I'm content there. Truly and honestly. I have taken Paul's advice and become content in whatsoever state I am in. Good lesson to learn. Hard lesson to learn though. Don't get me wrong, I would love nothing more than to get back into my normal life, but the Lord has me on the couch for a reason.
I have come to realize just how similar this whole situation is to Peter walking on the water, as well as when Jesus calmed the storm. Whenever I take my focus off of God and look at my life and this situation I start to panic. The doubts, fears, and worry all swirl about me. Like crashing waves threatening to take the boat under. When I think, how long am I gonna live on the couch? That...just....scares me. But if I think of it as, how long will the Lord have me here...well that is putting my focus back on the Lord. And I can walk on the water again without being afraid. As long as I don't think of it as ME having to go through all this, but instead the LORD taking me through this then I can hold His hand and trust Him completely.

God bless!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

One Year Ago Today...

Repost: God Spared My Life!

I should be dead.

Or at the very least in the hospital right now along with my older sister Steph. But I have a miraculous story to tell. One that bears Spiritual Warfare at the very heart of it.

Yesterday, Steph and I went to Panera Bread for dinner with some friends. I had changed my mind at the very last moment to actually go. I had planned to stay home, but decided against it when I realized I needed to pick up some things from the store before Friday.

We weren't planning to stay at Panera Bread past seven-thirty. We had music to practice for our parent's 25th vow renewal ceremony/celebration on Saturday. But we stayed later and then at the last minute decided to take one of my best friends, Rachelle, home after we had hit T.J. Maxx (another last minute decision) the library, and Walmart.

These details may seem trivial, but it all played a part in the story. In order for Rachelle to ride in Steph's car we had to put three heavy-duty card tables, for the party, in the trunk. It was tricky fitting them in there, but we managed to get them in the trunk.

We spent more time in T.J. Maxx and Walmart than all of us had anticipated. I couldn't find the particular gift card at the 'old' Walmart in Columbus that I needed. Frustrated, I told Steph and Rachelle that I'd just get it at the newer Walmart out by the highway.

We dropped Rachelle off at her house and then headed to the newer Walmart. We met up with Mom there and almost took Samuel  home with us. Once again, it took me a while to find the gift card, but I finally found it and we left for home.

During the drive, I worked on Christmas gifts while Stephanie practiced her speech for Mom and Dad's party. We had found it interesting that every time she came to the part of sharing the gospel she always blanked out. This continued all the way to Columbus and back. She told me, "Haley, Satan does not want me to share this."

The road from Columbus to our house is a dangerous one in the winter. Especially on a particular stretch known as Beck's Grove. We had come through there before just fine. Yes, there were patches of ice, but we had made it safely the first time.

While we were on this road Steph was practicing her speech once again. She was at the part of sharing the gospel when all of a sudden we began fish-tailing. Now Stephanie is a safe driver. I feel safe whenever I am with her.

But whenever the car started twisting, it seemed to go berserk. Steph said, "Don't worry, Haley, I got this," remembering Dad's instruction.

No matter what she did it was worthless. The car was headed for the left side of the road where a deep, wooded ravine seemed to be our destined doom. All of a sudden the car was turned around and the next thing I see is a white embankment and a tree coming at us. Stephanie shut her eyes through the whole thing, but I kept them open the entire time.

I remember screaming and hearing Stephanie scream. We slammed into the embankment and I thought that would be the end of it. I remember thinking, "God, I'm going to die today." But next thing I am being flipped upside down. I hear a loud crunch and screaming. I remember hitting the door, but I didn't feel it. While flipping, both of us felt like someone was holding us in a tight, comfortable embrace. We had our seat-belts on, but it was a stronger grip. Even when we were rolling we felt as though we were swaddled with soft pillows or something. There were angels holding both of us, I am sure of it.

All of a sudden I was suspended in midair by my seat-belt. I suddenly realized that I was repeating, "Oh my God" over and over again. I couldn't figure out where my seat had gone. My door looked odd and I couldn't figure out how to get out. All I could think of, was my sister dead?

I unbuckled my seat-belt somehow and softly landed on the 'floor'. I later figured out that it was the cracked windshield that I was sitting on. The first thing that Stephanie thought when we stopped was, "Shut the car off." Then she thought of me. She thought she had killed me or impaired me and I was in a bloody mess. The first thing I said was, "Are we still alive?" She assured me we were very much alive. We were both turned around mentally. I grabbed her arms and she grabbed mine. I said, "Steph, we need to pray!"
She started praying and I interjected, "Thank you God for saving us!" She stopped me and said, "Right now is not the time to pray. We can pray later. We need to get out of the car." I collected all the necessary belongings and placed them in a Walmart bag. That is, after I found my shoes.

We crawled out and heard a man's voice asking if we are all right. Steph answered "I think so. I don't feel hurt, but I need to call my dad."

I looked at the flipped car and thought, "There is no way we just made it out of there alive. No way."
The man's phone didn't get signal in the spot where we were. He told us we needed to call the police.
A county water utility truck stopped and the couple both had cell phones. The man used his to call the police and the woman let Stephanie use hers to call dad.

The couple from the water utility backed up and sat farther down the road with their flashers on. Dad would be at the crash site in roughly thirty minutes. The man who had first stopped told us, "Why don't you come and sit in my car where it's warm?"

We numbly got in. It was a good thing we did because I was starting to slip into shock.

Aaron was the man who let us sit in his car and he told us some of his crashing experiences. He didn't even live in the area. The only reason he had been down here was to get his birth certificate for a job in another city where he lives. We told him that God had orchestrated the timing perfectly.

The first volunteer policeman got there and we got out. He asked skeptically if we were the ones who had been in the car wreck and if we were hurt. Steph told him, "I don't think so. I don't feel hurt. I'm just shook up."

The policeman shined a flashlight in her eyes and asked, "Are you sure?" She reassured him.

Dad showed up along with more policemen. We went through the whole process of registering the car and all that. Nobody could believe that we were the two who had been in the car wreck.

Those tables I mentioned that we had put in the trunk? I shudder to think what could have happened if they had been in the back seat!

Stephanie's huge glass water bottle had landed above her head and all that had happened to it was the lid came off and the water spilled out. I later reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a Starbucks Mocha glass jar. It was not scratched or cracked. I could hardly believe it.

Mom arrived and charged up to us crying. We put our arms around her and reassured her that we were okay.

We were all heartily astonished when after the wrecker had turned the car over, the car started. Then Dad drove the car all the way home! Stephanie fell apart at that point. She could not believe it. I put my arms around her. I felt like giggling. I didn't feel like crying at that moment. I wanted to laugh exultantly because my God had conquered the demons who wanted us dead. I told Stephanie that I was going to mention what had happened before she gave her speech on Saturday. There is no way I can't. We all agree that what had happened to us was a direct attack from Satan, but God had intervened and had an army of angels all around us.

Fuzzy picture taken from Mom's cell phone camera

We are both sore and I found out I had a minor concussion and a cut on my foot, but other than that and being traumatized I am extremely glad that I am alive. I honestly thought that my life was going to end last night. God spared my life. I cannot tell you how grateful and humbled I am to know that the Lord has a specific purpose for me. I have come to the realization through this whole situation that God has me in the palm of His hands. Life is precious. Value it. Don't squander away your days. Enjoy them. Live them to the fullest. Fill them with things that have an everlasting purpose.

Note: To read Mom's account, read the post The Car Wreck on her blog.

Where My Life Is: Part 3

Saturday morning I trekked upstairs, gathered up my Bible, my laptop, a couple of notebooks, some Starbuck’s via, candy and chocolate I had saved back, (essential to living on the couch. Can’t survive without candy or chocolate!) books that I hadn’t read yet, letters that I needed to reply to, and my pillows and blankets. I was moving into the living room.

One week turned into two. I was still living on the couch. I physically couldn’t do things. I went to church, but all I did was sit, that was the extent of my activities. I went to my appointment with a cardiologist on the 22^nd of November. After telling him what was going on and such he said that the list of what it could be was too long. So we would narrow that down with three tests to start with. And if we couldn’t get any good answers from that we would, as he puts it, ‘Do some more investigation.” Love this guy’s vocabulary!
I would have my chest X-Ray, Echo-cardiogram, (heart ultrasound) done on December 2^nd, as well as have my 24 hour EKG halter monitor put on.
So what did I do while waiting? Well November is National Novel Writing Month. I was doing the contest of writing 50,000 words in month, but had gotten set back due to the circumstances. So I pulled my story out and finished that baby. I wrote letters, read the Bible, and since I couldn’t get out that much I spent a lot of time conversing over the Internet. I will admit to you here that my attitude has seen some definite changes. In the beginning I was scared about it all. I mean that’s really understandable considering. I had no idea what was going on! But I also wasn’t completely trusting in the Lord. I was grouchy, still am from time to time. I didn’t want to live on the couch. I hate being confined. I love moving around and doing things. I love being busy! To me, I’m being lazy. That’s my mindset. But….through different conversations with my brother Josh he finally convinced me that I can’t really help it. It’s not my fault if I’m being lazy. It’s still frustrating to me when I see something that needs to be done, but I know that I can’t do it.

Well five days into this thing I found out that I couldn’t laugh anymore. Well, at least without consequences. Laughing makes it a whole lot worse. The first time this happened, I went to lay down to go to sleep and I had to sleep sitting up. Whenever I laid down it was as though there was a heavy vise clamping and compressing my chest. My chest pain and heart rate increased too. I ended up throwing myself into a panic attack the first night. The second night I laughed the same thing happened, except I didn’t have a panic attack. So no laughing. Which is completely foreign to me. I am known for giggling. I handle life with laughter! I love to laugh. I love to make other people laugh. But now I can’t.

Thanksgiving rolled around, and on the way to my older sister’s house I laughed some, and sang. Bad idea. When I tried to get out of the van a sharp pain stabbed me in the chest. I couldn’t hardly breathe it was so bad. I made it in the house, and into a chair. I started shaking violently and I couldn’t get the pain to go away in my chest. After family pictures, I stayed snuggled up with soft blankets, in a most comfortable chair the entire day.
That night I had a bad attack..
After that we determined that I would not sing anymore. I’ve done some a little bit, and I’ve always felt horrible afterwards. 

Where My Life Is Part 1

Where My Life Is Part 2

Letting Go

"I took a test this morning and it was negative"

My mom's words rang in my ears.
She hadn't been feeling well for a couple of days, but we had all been praying that God would protect the baby. We were confident that the baby would make it. This had happened before, so we were sure everything would be fine.
 As those words were spoken, a despairing mood fell over everyone. Stunned expressions graced all of our faces for a few minutes. The reality hit and one by one tears began to fill our eyes.

Mom didn't want to deal with it that day. We were preparing to leave for a trip to the Barnard's later that afternoon. She said to tell no one, and if anyone texted or called to see how she was doing we were to tell them 'the same'. With that, everyone dispersed and went off to do chores and packing. (to read mom's side of this story go to: On Pregnancy Loss)

  I stumbled to my room as the tears were blinding my vision.
"Why? God, what is the purpose of this? What are you doing?" I asked. I felt like a bad girl for asking God why. I knew you weren't supposed to ask that no matter what, but I did anyway. I was broken. Angry. I felt like my trust and faith in God had been shattered. I had trusted in Him to keep the baby safe. He had given us this baby. It had a purpose. Why was He taking it away? I sobbed my eyes out for quite awhile. My heart had broken in to pieces and melted into tears. The more I cried the angrier I became. My anger towards God grew to be so great I couldn't talk to Him anymore.

I dried up in time to do my chores, but while I was straightening books on the bookshelf a song on our iTunes began playing. It was a mother's prayer to her baby. A song we had hoped to sing at the baby's dedication. The well of tears flooded once again. I'm self-conscious about crying in front of others so I went back up to my room.
 The ache in my heart wouldn't go away. I felt like I needed to talk to someone outside the family, but who could I call? I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I finally decided to call our pseudo older brother, Joshua Covert. He would be on his lunch break in fifteen minutes so I figured I would call him then.
To my relief the fifteen minutes sped by. I dialed his number and waited for him to answer. I told myself that I was not going to cry while on the phone.
 Josh answered his phone and the conversation began. I told him what had happened. I ended up crying, to my embarrassment, but what he told me set it in a new perspective for me.
He said, "Haley, I'm envious of you."
Shocked, I asked why.
He replied with, "You have a bunch of siblings. I don't. I have none. I don't even have the hope of having siblings awaiting me in Heaven. You do."
I mulled over that and then realized he was right. He was so right!
He also said, "God is trustworthy. He really is. You know this. There is a reason for all of this. I'm not sure what, but God knows. There is a bigger picture that we can't see just now."

To say the least, he greatly helped me out and reassured me that trusting in God, though hard as it is, is the best thing to do. He prayed for me, a little bit more was said, and then we parted ways.
Though I was still harboring anger towards God in my heart, I felt as though I could continue on with my life for the time being.

I shoved the whole thing aside while we were at the Barnard's. I didn't want it to spoil the trip. However, God didn't, and wouldn't let me forget.
On the way home from the Barnard's I had three hours to think about it. After fighting for so long I finally let the barriers break. The wall of anger, defeat, bitterness, and hurt came crashing down. I let it fall in a heap before the Master and King. I surrendered it all over to Him. The weight of it all was a relief to get rid of.
I was free! It was so refreshing.

I learned that I had been mistaken in praying my will instead of His will. It's still a constant battle, and I think it always will be, but I'm making it a habit to pray that way.
Also living by faith is a day by day process. By willingly trusting in the Lord to guide me every day I am setting myself up for an adventurous and challenging life, but why shouldn't I?

Letting go is not easy, but is there something God wants you to let go of?

Childlike Faith

Back in 2000, when I was five years old, I began having leg pains. Sometimes they were so bad I would just beat the couch up from sheer frustration.
We went to doctor after doctor and could not figure out the source of the problem. A lot of people were diagnosing it as 'growing pains'. My wise parents thought otherwise.

Our final destination sent us up to Riley's hospital. The correct diagnoses revealed a terrible disease known as Leg Calve Perthes. It was eating my hips. There was/is no cure. By the time August rolled around I was sentenced to a wheelchair.

Every other week, we made the long grueling trip up to Riley hospital to get x-rays and MRIs to monitor how far along the disease was progressing.

I had no idea what was really happening. All I remember was that I thought it pretty cool to be riding in a wheelchair. For me, that meant getting out of chores. That wore off after a while. Like any normal five year old I wanted to run and play.

After being in the wheel chair for two months, reality set in. I remember my mom gently telling me that I might never walk again. I didn't miss a beat.
"Don't worry mom, God is going to heal me. We just need to pray" I said confidently. I didn't realize what was at stake.
I remember thinking, 'God is going to heal me.' There was not a doubt in my mind.

Towards the end of the summer we made the trip up to Riley and I got x-rayed. The results revealed that I had a thread of hip bone left holding me together. I was stuck with looking at a terrible limp for the rest of my life.

After I had the last x-ray the hospital didn't call as prompt as they had before. Two weeks passed before mom decided to call the hospital.
The nurse pulled my results up and told mom over the phone, "We can't explain this, Mrs. Long, but Haley's disease is completely gone. Her hip bone is completely healed. It is all intact."
When mom told me that I simply said, "See, mom, I told you God would heal me."

Oh, that we could all have that childlike faith. I have often gone back and replayed that whole scenario in my mind, wishing that I could somehow retrieve that kind of simplistic faith.
The older we get, the more problems we encounter. The bigger the problem, the bigger our doubt becomes.
It makes sense as to why Jesus said "Come to me as little children." Children have such a full, trusting heart. They never doubt why this or that may be happening. They simply trust the one who is in charge. They know they don't have to worry. It's all in good hands.
Adults however, don't see it quite that way.

So as you mosey on through life, and the the trials come, remember: God's got your back. Though it seems as if everything will be lost, trust. God made you. He has everything in His hands. Leave it there.
Trust Him with a childlike faith.