Saturday, May 21, 2022

Aging Backwards

 




Babies are beautiful, aren't they? All parents and extended family members feel the rush of love when a newborn comes into the household.

Babies depend upon us for food, clothing, and shelter. They are helpless and innocent and totally incapable of providing for themselves. As they grow, among the first of things they learn is eating. We hand them a cracker or place Cheerios on their tray. They are happy when their little dexterous fingers can pick up such food items. These small bites go into their mouths, and soon, even non-foods go there too.

They learn to sit up, crawl, and then toddle as they walk.  With each new achievement, they grow a bit more independent.

Folks with Dementia or Alzheimer's age backwards. They lose independence a little at a time. When we compare them on a day-to-day basis, not much can be seen as a change, but when we looks back over six months, we sees a major transformation.

These adults reach a stage where they are infants again. They can't sit up, walk, or use the toilet. Like a newborn, they wear diapers and sleep a lot. They can't feed themselves, They become like babies.

Like an infant, our daughter must be fed now.

Her walk has become a slow shuffle. She stumbled last Saturday, May 14, 2022, and fell face down. We went to see her, and I took a picture. I always document everything. She was in good spirits, and the nurse thought she was okay. The nurse said she'd get in touch with the doctor for an X-ray.


When I went on Monday to visit her, I asked what the X-ray showed.  Uh-oh!  It hadn't been done, but they would get to it right away.

The facility called late Monday night. The EMS had been called, and our little one was being rushed to the ER. The X-ray wasn't done until late Monday, and it showed a small nose fracture. The doctor wanted a CT scan.

Facilities aren't always on top of things.  Even when I stay on them, they mess up. If the X-ray had been done earlier, there would have been no need to rush to a trauma unit.

We were in the hospital for three days. The medical teams, with my help, discovered she couldn't answer their questions. She doesn't know her birthdate, and she didn't know where she was. Most of the time, when asked her name, she responded with only her first name. The PT team had difficulty getting her up, and walking was not possible. I'm hoping the disorientation caused by a hospital visit will fade, and she can return to walking, even in a slow shuffle.  Hospital stays are hard on dementia patients. 

Several medics commented on her skin and how young she looks. She had a few wrinkles once, but like some of her abilities, they seemed to have disappeared.

She's aging backwards.

By-the-way, the beautiful baby pictured at the top of this blog is her new grandbaby. She doesn't know the new tiny goodness. 

They are both sweet babies.

Monday, May 9, 2022

Storms


 We face storms, don't we? 

They come from the heavens with thunder and lightening, but hurricanes and tornadoes also bombard us in life. We call them by different names: financial ruin, divorce, cancer. loss of loved ones, loneliness.

Some of these tempests from the sky are real.  Many cause destruction. A few are short-lived and gone, while personal storms can last a lifetime.



We flew to Tulsa this past week. The plane was delayed for five hours due to bad weather. Oklahoma is famous for tornadoes, and these scary things lurked in and about the area.

Once we took off, the pilot told us we would fly above the clouds.


As I gazed out the window, the  clouds didn't look so terrifying.  Turbulence came to us a few times, but a glimpse of sun and blue sky appeared also. And then it would disappear, but a break was a welcome sight.

The seatbelt sign stayed on. We bounced around, and it seemed we were on a roller coaster. Most of us passengers were frequent flyers, and the the turbulence was old hat to us. Nevertheless, I prayed for a safe journey.


We arrived in time for the funeral.

Saying goodbye and celebrating a life well lived is a storm. Although the brutal force of the cloud is short-lived, grief and sadness lasts longer.



God allows storms in nature, and to us in our personal lives. These storms come and go. When you are faced with one of nature or personally, ask the Lord to calm it. He's experienced. He's done it before.


And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, "Save us, Lord; we are perishing." And he said to them, "Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?" Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, "What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?" (Matthew 8:23-27)

Friday, April 29, 2022

Another Blog

 


Holding Shelley's hand


I've started a new blog.

 

I focus on early onset dementia from a mother's perspective.  


https://dementiadaybyday.blogspot.com/


Most of the time, children take care of parents who've grown older. Parents who face the challenges of Alzheimer's or Dementia.

Shelley and I are the odd ones out.

When I check into the community where she lives, if the receptionist doesn't know me, she'll ask, "Are you her daughter or her sister?"

The mouth drops open when I say, "I'm her mom."

I go often, and most of the people know me, but there are usually new aides or office personnel to meet. Memory care facilities seem to have a large turnover. Shelley has been in the current facility since 2020, and we are on the third management team.

I'm pleased two of the aides reman. If not for these two people, I might move her.

One of the aides saved her life when she was attacked. You can read about it under the "Dealing with Dementia" tab on this blog.  Shelley lights up when this person is nearby. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of her brain, she remembers and appreciates the aide saving her life.

Today was a good day for her. She was up walking the hallways when her dad and I went to see her. She could almost remember things I spoke about.  

I don't say, "Do you remember...." I talk about past events or people. When I told her Don (her deceased husband) was in heaven with Jesus having a good time. He was singing, playing the guitar, and laughing..  She responded, "I want to go be with him."  I told her she would go there one day, but today, we were going to sing in her room. We then sang her favorite song. "You Are My Sunshine." And yes, she sang the words on key!

Shelley and Dad.

A good day. 

She told us over and over,

"I love you."

A very good day.

I invite you to follow my new blog.

DementiaDaybyDay



Sunday, April 17, 2022

Proper Burial Attire

 




Her mother loved it! The color orange, that is.  My Atlanta friend’s mom had designated a certain dress as her burial attire, but she decided, instead, that it would look pretty on her sister. So, when her sister died, the attire went to her. My friend’s mom than determined she wanted to be buried in an orange blouse with light-colored slacks. During one of their shopping trips, while she was in good health, she found the prefect orange blouse. It became her designated burial attire.  She kept in in her closet and wouldn’t wear it because she was saving it. My friend and her mom often joked about saving the blouse.  After her mom got sick and bedridden, my friend was horrified to walk into her room one day to find her dressed in the burial shirt! After that, my friend kept it, along with the off-white burial slacks in her care so they would stay safe—to be ready when the time came.

One day she visited her mom, and the mom said, “Go get my funeral shirt. I need to get dressed. I have a funeral to go to, and I need to be ready at 2:00! When my friend asked, Whose funeral?” Her answer came quickly. “Mine.”

Before she went to Glory, she had a week of clarity. Her mom reiterated again the shirt was for her burial.  She wanted to make sure she was buried in that shirt.  She was!

A Houston friend has a sister in Austin. The Austin sister asked her Houston sister, “Are you coming?”  My friend asked, “Where?”  Her sister replied, “To my funeral, of course. It’s today at 2:00. I have on my pink dress.”  The Austin sister wasn’t sick, but one must wonder if dementia was becoming part of her life.

The two o’clock hour must be a popular time for funerals. Both of these ladies wanted their service at 2:00.



When my daughter’s mother-in-law died, my daughter cleaned out her mother-in-law’s apartment. The many bags for Goodwill were stacking up, and I suggested to my daughter that she save a garment for the burial. My daughter replied, “Oh, that’s okay. It will be a closed casket.”  I replied, “She still needs clothes!”

Can you imagine being buried like Eve before she and Adam invented fig leaves?


My mom wanted to be buried in a negligee. She refused suggestions of a dress. She loved beautiful, sexy nightwear. When she passed unexpectedly, her skimpy nightdresses were not suitable. My sister and I went to Macy’s to find a negligee. Nothing was appropriate. At the funeral home, the director told us, “We have them. A lot of ladies want beautiful negligees so they can be comfortable in their final resting place.”  We bought a purple negligĂ©e from the funeral home and buried her in it. Purple was her favorite color.

When a friend of mine left this earth at age 94, her grandson found a box under her bed. The note read, “For my funeral.” It was a beautiful, pink chiffon dress she’d worn once—on her 50th wedding anniversary.

Have you decided what you will wear in your final resting place? Or what kind of apparatus will be in the plot?

I read about a man in Pennsylvania who wanted his ashes buried in his white Corvette. He bought twelve burial plots to house him and his car. After a lot of negotiation, the man and car with 27,000 miles on the odometer were buried in a private ceremony.

In I Thessalonians, chapter 4, we are told the dead in Christ rise first, and then the rest of us will go up after them. Our bodies will be reunited with our spirits.

Now I don’t believe we will go through eternity wearing orange shirts or purple negligees, but whatever we have on in the casket may be seen as we go up to Glory. At some point in eternity, Christians will be clothed in eternal righteousness. Revelation 7:9, ESV says, “After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands.”

Easter is the most important day in Christendom. Jesus was buried in someone else’s clothes. Strips of cloth, actually. He didn’t choose the attire, but he chose death and the shedding of His blood as a means to bring salvation to sinners.

He stayed dead three days, and then God raised Him from the dead.

It doesn’t matter what we wear to the casket, but it matters what we believe in the here and now. We are all sinners, but to be clothed appropriately in eternity, we must confess and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.


If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9 NIV.

Have a blessed Easter!

Friday, April 15, 2022

Family Secrets on Sale Now!

 






My book, Family Secrets, in the eBook format, will be on sale on Amazon for .99 on April 15-20.  If you haven’t read this historical book, now is a good time to download a copy for your eReader.  Here’s a blurb:

Dallas, Texas, 1975. A dark time in history but also a time of change. Although civil rights were revolutionizing, racial prejudice still existed.

Rebecca Davis, a nurse, hasn’t seen family in fifteen years. They hid secrets from her, and she won’t forgive them. Ever.

Two single men and an adorable child enter her life. She falls in love with all three. If she could marry, which man would she choose? The one with the delightful daughter? No matter, those secrets forbid love for her.

 



Monday, April 4, 2022

A Chapter from My Work-in-Progress

 

I thought you might like to read an excerpt from a book I'm working on.  It doesn't have a title yet.  If you suggest a title, and I use it, I'll give you credit.

Let me know what you think!


Eye-popping beauty. He couldn’t remember a female more stunning.

David Worth stared spellbound at the woman. He couldn’t help it. She might be a mirage and disappear if he turned his head. Like da Vinci’s masterpiece on canvas, The Mona Lisa, beauty like hers should be appreciated and admired. Shameless gaping was ill-mannered, sure, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop what some might call his awestruck gaze. And of course, it was rude, but he didn’t care. He had to look at her. Despite the sad expression she wore, the spectacular woman’s face and body was beyond words. His words at the moment, and he got paid to talk. He walked toward her from the opposite, far side of the hospital corridor. Even though courtesy dictated he avert his gawk, he refused to take his eyes off this magnificent creature.

As a trained physician, he detected she was troubled. What did the lady have on her mind? Her contemplation focused on some unseen thing beyond him. Perhaps she gazed at art on a wall behind him, but he guessed she was wrapped up with images playing in her head. From the looks of her forlorn expression, the beautiful creature had suffered an unhappy morning. Why was she here in the hospital anyway? Visiting the sick? A loved one? Known for his observation skills, he noted her short jacket over a simple form-fitting black dress. Was she in mourning? He’d counseled enough people to recognize deep grief and pain. Perhaps someone close to her had died. Determined to bring hope to her hearting heart, he halted three feet in front of her. With her thoughts elsewhere, she almost ran smack-dab into him. She stopped in time and raised her head. Blinking several times as if to clear her vision, she seemed at long last to notice him.

Even with heels, she was five inches shorter than him. He smiled down at her. “Good morning!” His tone sounded tender and intimate, even to his own ears.

The woman widened her eyes and blinked again. “Good morning.” Her voice indicated confusion as she appeared to search her memory for his name.

Furrowing her brow as if she couldn’t think of anything else to say to this stranger blocking her path, she side-stepped and moved past him.

David watched her leave. As she reached the exit, she turned to look back at him.

He smiled and nodded to her.

She shrugged as if to say, “You spoke as if you know me, but I can’t place you. Sorry.”

David gave a little finger wave and broadened his smile.

Returning the traditional goodbye hand gesture, she turned and left the hallway with a hurried gait.

Feeling as though the sun had gone from the room, David made his way to the conference chamber. He greeted several doctors he knew and introduced himself to others before he made his way to the dais with the woman on his mind.


Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Shelley Loves Walmart

 

A memory from 2019.

 


Shelley loved Walmart shopping trips when she called home an assisted living facility. She lived there from October, 2019 to July, 2020, and she loved going to Walmart with the group. 

The facility took the residents twice a month. I took her at various times in between, but she loved going on the bus with her “peers” as she called the group. 

I guess it gave her a sense of freedom and independence to go with the others and not me.  However, she loved going with me, too. We shopped and then ate lunch at a local restaurant. At first, I wondered why she walked behind me instead of beside me. I came to realize that this is part of the disease. Her peripheral vision was declining.

There were times when the facility had no bus driver, and the tenants made lists for one facilitator to get the supplies. The residents hated this. Each one enjoyed the outing.  On these instances, Shelley complained the loudest to me, and at that time, she could still voice her complaints to the director.

How I wish she could still do this!  As I write this memory, it is March, 2022. Three years have gone by since she needed the items listed below. She can no longer express what she wants and has no clue as to what she needs.

I sent the list of supplies below to Stewart, the man who was the designated shopper. Can you imagine getting lists made by 35 occupants?  Even if each list had half the items as Shelley’s did, keeping the money and goods separate had to be a huge chore.

Back in those days, I bought Dr. Suess books for her, although at that stage in her dementia, she couldn’t read, but a friend would read to her.  She loved perfumes. She insisted her room had to smell good, and so did she.

I kept a small Christmas tree in her apartment. We decorated it according to seasons.  This list was made around Easter time.

 To the Walmart shopper

For Shelley’s Walmart Trip March 12, 2019

) Yogurt

2)  Boost

3)  Resee’s peanut butter cups

4) Peanut M & M’s.

5) Dr. Seuss Book

(She already has the one fist, Two fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish book)

6) Plug in refills to make the room smell good. (I’m not sure of the brand she already has. If you can’t find it, buy a new one)

7)  Can of Room spray to make room smell good.

8) Spray cologne for ladies to smell good.

Toilet paper.

1       Maybe A few decorations for her Easter tree to hang on branches. Crosses, etc. If you don’t find any, that’s okay.

Thanks, Stuart!  You do a good job, and I appreciate it!

Gay


When I found this list, I found myself longing for those days when she could call me on her iPhone, or go with me to the store.  

I'll always remember the fun we had at Walmart.

Sunday, March 6, 2022

Thessaloniki and Ukraine

 



In preparation for my Sunday morning Bible study in 1 Thessalonians, I checked to see if the ancient city of Thessalonica still exists. It does, but it’s now called. Thessaloniki, and it is the second-largest city in northern Greece. The access to several waterways makes it a major trade route. The Danube, located to the north of Thessaloniki, is the second largest river in Europe. The Danube begins in Germany and empties into the Black Sea in Ukraine.

 

While I looked at the map, I was excited to see how close Thessaloniki is to Ukraine. The distance is about 688 nautical miles.

 

History has it that Apostle Andrew, brother to the Apostle Peter, traveled to the current Ukraine. Legend says he arrived in Kyiv around AD 55. The Apostle Andrew didn’t travel nautically, so it must have taken him months to get there. He preached as he went. The Radziwill Chronicle reports he built a cross and predicted a great Christian city would exist there. Stories of Andrew’s missionary visit grew extensive in history.

Hmmm. Is his journey legend or fact?

Andrew is known as one who was always bringing people to Jesus.

Jesus told his disciples to “go and make disciples of all nations…” Matthew 28:16-20. NIV

And they did.

The 18th-century Church of St. Andrew is supposedly constructed where Andrew’s cross was located on the hill dominating the overlook to the city of Kyiv, and current Ukraine reports say about 60% of the country is Christian.

Ukraine is fighting for her life these days, but the tiny nation’s fight with Russia is one to make the history books. Putin, Russia’s president since 2012, wishes to make Ukraine a part of Russia once more. Russia is a Goliath to that little Ukraine, but no one can deny the mighty patriotism of the Ukrainians.

Peoples of the world are divided in thought about what to do with these global crises. No one wants WWIII. One of the students in my Bible study asked, “Why didn’t the president of Ukraine just sign the country over to Putin? None of the killing would have taken place?”

Free people wish to remain free.  That’s why.

Would we in America want to sign away our nation? Our freedom?

I hope not. But then, these days, I’m not sure. It seems to me there are too many who welcome socialist policies.  Contemporary Americans have always known freedom and have no idea what living in a socialist or communist country entails.

Ukraine hasn’t always been free. Their citizens know the difference and are willing to die to keep what they had.

I hope the Apostle Andrew is the one who brought Christianity to Ukraine. He, or whoever did, will have many rewards for preaching the Gospel in distant lands.  I’m happy there are no tears in heaven. Andrew would be sad up there if he knew what was happening to the citizens of Ukraine.

Pray for Ukraine.

 

Amazon

#Ukraine



Saturday, February 19, 2022

Friends? Or Mere Acquaintances?



Have you ever washed overboard in an attempt to get someone to respond to you?

I have.

I’m acquainted with an author in Houston who is rather well-known. We speak at area meetings, and I congratulate her upon each new achievement. By nature, I’m a cheerleader, and when I encourage someone, I’m sincere. This lady, seldom if ever, acknowledges my comments. On Facebook, I always “like” her posts. She has responded once to mine; however, I see her respond to others. It appears she purposefully ignores me. I write Christian romance novels, and she writes secular romance.

Although I seldom post conservative political statements on Facebook, and she seldom posts liberal ones, we know where the other stands on partisan subjects.  This doesn’t matter to me. We are both female authors living in the same city, and we have other things in common. We should be kind to each other.

I went to a writing session today. There’s a neighbor who attends the same class.  I speak to her. She answers politely, and then turns away as fast as possible. She knows I’m a Christian and a pastor’s wife. She also knows I’m a conservative. According to comments she’s made to others, she’s not a Christian, and she prefers the liberal side of politics.

For whatever reason, these two ladies who snub me bothered me today. Why can’t these ladies who differ so radically from me respond to me in a kind, polite manner?  I’ve never tried to change their ideas or beliefs at any time.

I tried again today with my neighbor, but to now avail. As I drove out of the parking lot, I pondered this question: Why does it bother me that she turns her back on me? Why do I continue to seek approval from her?

I was puzzled, but then this fact dawned on me. Jesus knows me. I don’t need to work to make myself known to Him. The Supreme Being allows me to become acquainted with Him! No one is greater than He. Wow!  The Greatest of All Time permits me to interview Him, petition Him, laugh with Him, cry with Him. Just be with Him!

So why try should I try to coax someone to like me when the Greatest of All Beings loves me?

Good question, right?

I’ve decided to spend my energy getting to know Him better.

So my reader friend, perhaps you identify with me. 

There will always be someone on earth who doesn’t respond favorably to us, but God never excludes us, and He is never rude.

If you have an unconventional person in your life, I hope you’ll spend more time on getting to know Jesus than seeking affirmation from someone who will never give it.

That’s what I’m going to do.

Gay N. Lewis on Amazon

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Dementia Update


 


Shelley and me before her ten day quarantine


Shelley and me today


I haven’t written a recent update about our daughter who has early onset dementia.  Some caregivers find it easier to share than I do. I’m not sure why it’s hard for me. Perhaps it’s because I’m afraid readers will find my stories about a suffering daughter an uncomfortable read.

I participate in a group of caregivers whose loved ones have Alzheimer’s or dementia. We ask for advice, encouragement, and sometimes we vent frustrations, but we understand each other and make no judgments. We’re all enduring the same heartache.

I've missed our daughter. I haven’t seen her in about twelve days, but I saw her today. Yay!  I was excited.

After my last visit, she tested positive for Covid, and the facility had to quarantine her. She had no symptoms, and for that, I’m thankful. Six people were placed into isolation, and she was one of them.

I doubt she understood why she was moved, and what happened. I’m sure she missed me. I visit  three or four times a week. She knows who I am, although she gets terminology mixed. Instead of mom, she calls me Daddy.

I’ve called to check on her. They tell me she’s fine and doing well, but I needed to see for myself.

When Covid was new, we had to visit through a window.


 Later, I was designated as an Essential Caregiver, and I was permitted inside her room.  I couldn’t go into other parts of the facility, but I could visit her in her quarters. For that, I was happy.

It’s heartbreaking to see a loved one slowly diminish.

She’s a tiny thing. She always has been. She’s stands 5 feet tall these days. As a full-term baby, she weighed a whopping 4lbs and 4oz. She stayed in the hospital for ten days, and I brought her home at 4lbs and 13oz. I think the doctor got tired of me badgering him to let her leave the hospital. He’d said she could leave the hospital at 5 lbs, but I wanted my baby home with me. I wanted to take care of her and make sure she was okay.

Now, decades later, I want the same thing again. I want her well and at home.

Dementia is a sad disease. It steals the mind and robs the body.

She remembered me today and our songs. And get this! She called me Momma several times! Joy of all joys! We sang together. After my absence, I was afraid she would have declined and not remember me or our songs.  It was a blessing to see her recall.

She sleeps a lot. When I went inside to find her, she was asleep on the sofa in the community living room. I woke her and took her to her room. We visited for about forty-five minuets and then she fell asleep while still talking to me.

I continue to hope someone will find answers to the diseases under the Alzheimer’s umbrella.


In happier days. Before dementia.


 

 

 

Saturday, January 22, 2022

Let's Talk About How Life Begins

When a man and woman couple together, the man releases a zillion potential baby makers, well, that’s an exaggeration. It’s actually about 250 million sperm.  Wow! That’s a lot of those little guys, and they all have one goal in mind. Reach the female’s egg. Now get this, like the fish, Salmon, those determined sperm swim UP, and that makes it more difficult to reach their destination. They possess a lot of energy to travel those 5 to 7 inches up the fallopian tube.

 

Child-bearing aged females release an egg once a month. It’s an impatient diminutive thing and only waits around for a sperm for 24 hours. If those swimmers get lucky, they meet up with the woman’s egg.

 

  Pixabay

Did you know there’s a fight going on within that ocean of semen? Yep, sure is. That sea of swimmers fight to see who will be the first to arrive. Only one will receive the gold medal. Sometimes more than one arrives at the same time, and multiple children are conceived, but most often, only one gets the prize.

 

These determined little guys must go through a slimy mass to get to the trophy. Uh oh! Many of them won’t make it and will die at this point. That slimy mass has an opening as thin as a single hair on a person’s head. Only a few determined sperm will get through.

 

After two hours of swimming, the super-determined sperm that make it to the egg begin pounding their tails forcefully against the egg. Nice, right? While they attack, those strong survivors spin like drill bits as they try to enter the egg. Those little critters really want in there.

 

When one sperm breaks through, the egg says, “That’s enough.” The egg goes into lockdown faster than a home with a case of Covid. No other sperm is allowed to enter. A new life has begun.

 

Twenty hours after the mating process, two small, chromosome filled structures form. One from the man and the other from the woman. 


 

Pixabay


These two bubble-like shapes are attracted to each other and move toward each other as swiftly as a Gulf Coast hurricane bearing down on Alabama. Once these two meet, they marry—no marriage license needed, and the entire biological DNA is glued into place.  After their nuptial, they sort of look like a snowman without a head—one large ball on top of the other. The genetic info ruling everything is now resolute. How tall we'll be and how long our fingers will extend are already defined. At this stage, the new creation even knows what diseases we will inherit. The sex of the baby is also determined. Overwhelming, right?  The little imp is only twenty hours old, and his/her blueprint is in place.

 

 

The human is alive and well, but the teeny image has yet to look like a baby. A multiplication process begins as the union of sperm and egg journey to the uterus. While this happens, the woman is unaware that she’s a mother. This little one might have her lips, and the dad’s athletic abilities, but mom doesn’t know the baby is there yet.

 

When it arrives in the uterus, this tiny creation is fastidious. It may wander around for two or three days before it selects a home inside the uterus.

 

Okay, here’s another astonishing feature: After 8 days, the little one releases chemicals to counterbalance the mother’s immune system. Without the chemicals, the mom’s body would identify the diminutive thing as a foreign object and reject it.  Isn’t God amazing? Mom still doesn’t know the baby is there, but instinct may tell her something is taking place.  God seems to give mothers a sixth sense at times.

Pixabay

 

At about 6 weeks, a heart has formed and beats at about 150 times a minute. The little one has its own blood supply separate from the mom’s, but the mom’s blood supply nourishes the little guy. This sounds yucky, but nourishment produces waste products. The baby disposes of his/her own waste inside the mom’s body. I told you it sounds yucky.

 

Pixabay

At 17 weeks, the hands are formed and can now grasp the foot. The tiny urchin kicks like a pro football punter, but mom can’t feel the thrust yet.

 

The eyes are sensitive to light at 28 weeks. If a physician looks at the baby with a fetoscope, the baby will place his/her hand over the eyes to shield them. The poor thing needs sunglasses at this stage.


At 32 weeks, the baby is getting ready to exit his/her temporary home. The baby is swallowing, breathing, sucking, and is ready for the outside world. The small sweetheart is cramped, and ready to be free.  While in the temporary home, he/she developed sleep cycles, and they may vary drastically from the moms. Good luck, mom, on getting your regular eight hours after the baby’s arrival. The baby now weights about 3.5 to 4 pounds, and will soon settle into position for birth.

At 40 weeks, your little one will arrive. It’s a short time, really, for those two tiny entities, the sperm and the egg, to form into a viable, beautiful human.

King David wrote a beautiful Psalm 139. In it, he said he was “fearfully and wonderfully made.”  Ultra sounds weren’t available to him back then, but King David understood what science has proved.

January 22, 1973, the US Supreme Court made abortion on demand a law. Science has better technology these days, and perhaps that law will be overturned. Abortion will be for states to determine.

 If a person can be declared dead when the heart stops, why can’t a person be called alive when the heart starts? A fetus heart beat is detected at 6 weeks.

Abortion for a healthy mom and baby is wrong. Abortion for an unhealthy baby, incest, rape, or the life of the mother is a different story. A story for another time.

God forgives all wrongs and mistakes. If you’re out there reading this, and for whatever reason, you experienced an abortion, please accept this. God forgives and loves us regardless of our actions. Ask Him to forgive, and boom! Done deal. He does it.





Friday, January 14, 2022

God Brings Back Life





Ezekiel 33




Dry Bones!  

Ezekiel saw a bunch of them.

An Army of Skeletons!

"God Brings Back Life."

The human, adult body has 206 bones.  If you're buried today in a casket inside a vault, and placed six feet under, it takes 50 years for your flesh to dissolve and you become a skeleton.

A few years ago, when people were buried in pine boxes, it took a year to become a skeleton.

We've come along way, right?   Who wants to be bunch of bare bones within a year?

In Ezekiel's vision, God put tendons, muscles, and flesh on thousands of bones as Zeke watched. The sound of bones coming together resembled an earthquake. 

Not get this. All those bones had to find their counterparts. A six foot frame wouldn't join properly with a five foot body. Ole Zeke must have been enthralled as he gazed at the puzzle of bones finding each other. 

 After the bones located each other, Ezekiel prophesied for the breath of life to come, and it did. The bones became people again!

As I thought about this, I wondered when all of today's buried people would get flesh. Would it be in the casket before the resurrection, or would flesh appear as we leave the casket to meet Jesus in the air?

 Do you want your flesh to return to you before you leave the casket? As you know, I write fantasy, and my mind wonders about crazy things.

I want flesh before I go up, and I want clothes too.  Just think!  Cloth turns to ashes too, so you'll need modern covering for that new flesh.

What will you wear to meet Jesus? Sweats? Ballgown? PJ's? Church clothes?

He desires to see the clothes of salvation on you. That's what matters to Him.

If those salvation clothes aren't in your closet, ask Him today to forgive you of sins and come into your life.

Bingo! Done deal. You'll be dressed properly.


Gay N. Lewis on Amazon 

Sarah at Christmas