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Topic: Blessed (11/29/04)
TITLE: But For All That I Am, I Am Blessed
By Deborah Anderson
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“What?” you say, “This woman’s crazy! How can one be blessed in tragedy? I know what her problem is. Her elevator doesn’t go to the top floor. All her marbles have fallen out of the bag. When they were passing out brains, she thought they said, ‘trains,’ and she missed hers.”
I wouldn’t blame you for saying all of the above comments. I didn’t know myself, until recently, how blessed I’ve been. That’s why I wanted to share this with you. Turn, and look behind you, to see what has been in front of you. I know; people say we should never look back, but read on and you’ll see what I mean.
I watched my father die a slow, tortuous death from liver disease when I was young, but I had a father. He loved me. He was proud of me. He laughed with me. He cried with me. I learned what real strength was because of him. Shedding tears is not a sign of weakness from any man. It takes a courageous man to be able to cry and share his true feelings. My dad was this type of man. He was a good man. Some will never know their father’s at all. I was fortunate to have known mine. For this, I am blessed.
I suffered years of abuse from a man in my past, but I survived. God saw me as someone valuable. It was He, who kept me. He decided He would make me a vessel fit for His use. He thought I was somebody. Because of Him, and only Him, I am here. Because I lived to tell you this, I am blessed.
I married a godly man, and later gave birth to a beautiful, little girl. She died when she was only two days old, but I had a child. She had dark, brown hair and an olive complexion. I remember her tiny life moving inside of me. It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever known. There are no words to describe the feelings one has when your child first moves in your womb. She would have been 21-years-old this month. Many women never get to carry a child at all. Therefore, I am blessed.
I lost other babies, too. I never carried them full-term, but I have a family. I often imagine what my children might look like. I read stories people write about their children and hear others talk of their own. I picture mine playing together, in beautiful fields of flowers, as far as the eye can see. I see them walking streets of gold beside the Lord, while the glory of His radiance dances off their faces. What an honor; to have my children raised by the Lord. I never have to worry for their safety. I never have to dry their eyes from tears. Again, I am blessed.
My brother died in my arms a few years ago, but I’m thankful I had a brother. He was one of my dearest friends. He had an amazing spirit of laughter. He gave his life to the Lord before he passed. You could feel the presence of God fill the room before the angels carried him home. It was as though a white, glory cloud overshadowed him as he took his last breath. God didn’t have to make a grand entrance, but He did. It was His way of letting me know that He came for my brother as one of His own. My brother, father, and children await me in Heaven. Because of this, I am blessed.
These are only a few of the things I’ve been through in my life. I know many of you have been through tremendous heartache, too. Be encouraged. I didn’t see my blessings for a long time. I had to reflect, through tears, to catch a glimpse of them. Look back at where you’ve been and search for your nugget of gold. When you find it, hold fast to it with all your might, just as God has held you in all things. Glean the good from the bad. In doing so, maybe you too, can say, “I am blessed.”
Copyright ©2004 by Deborah Anderson