What Worked For Us (how advanced planning helped my family) – UPDATED

UPDATED INFORMATION (1.9.2022)

Since I first wrote this post in September 2021 – there have been many newsworthy updates regarding all things COVID related. I will add some of those updates here.

To see the latest information from Dr. Peter McCullough  – please click on following video link posted January 9th. Dr. McCullough was presenting at the Health and Liberty Alliance Conference. CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

Dr. McCullough’s now patented protocol can be downloaded by CLICKING HERE.

Peace to you, friends. I pray that you are well. Spiritually. Physically. Mentally. In all the ways that truly matter.

Your well-being matters to me. Accordingly, tonight I feel led to go somewhere that I’ve been somewhat hesitant to go in recent days. I won’t go into the reasons for my hesitancy. You know them already. One doesn’t have to go looking to find division in this season. Division, instead, finds us.

The soil beneath our feet is ripe for discord.

And so, I tread lightly and tenderly on this patch of dirt I am about to unearth.

On February 28th of this year, Jadon tested positive for C19. On July 30, 2021, Billy tested positive. Three days later, Amelia tested positive.

Over the course of their illnesses (each one with varying degrees of symptoms – Billy being the worst), I masked up and tended to their multiple needs while following a carefully researched course of protocol developed by Dr. Peter McCullough. Months before, I had pre-emptively prepared for such a time as this. Through the help of Dr. McCullough and America’s Frontline Doctors, I had both the protocol and the meds on hand to treat this virus at home. The goal was to keep all of us out of the hospital.

Thankfully, that goal was achieved.

In the last week, with the rise of the new variant related to C19, I know of many people who have also received a positive diagnosis. Folks who have previously been hesitant to speak with me about all things pertaining to C19 have now begun asking questions. A lot of those inquiries pertain to the protocol we used as a family.

As the lone hold-out in our household for not having been diagnosed with C19, I continue to daily follow the protocol prophylactically.

And so, I give you this information as a way of coming alongside you in this time of great flux. I am not a medical doctor, but Dr. Peter McCullough is one of the most peer-reviewed, published doctors on the topic of C19. I won’t load you down with his credentials. You should do the research yourself. That’s what any responsible person would do in a situation as serious as this one. Personally, I think he should be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize, but that is my bias. History will write the witness of just exactly how valuable and noble his efforts to treat this virus have been.

Incalculable is the word that comes to mind.

There are literally dozens of current videos featuring Dr. McCullough. I’m posting his most recent one, in which he adds a new recommendation to his nutraceutical bundle – povidone iodine to cleanse the pharyngeal passages.

To download your own copy of Dr. McCullough’s treatment protocol, visit the website Truth for Health by clicking here.

To view his recent interview with Dr. Peter Breggin, click here.

Dr. McCullough’s protocol, along with a similar protocol by Dr. Zelenko, have been used effectively by countless patients across the globe for early treatment of C19. Three of those patients I call family – Billy, Jadon, and Amelia. I am eternally grateful for the mission and work of these frontline heroes. Perhaps their knowledge may be of some benefit to you and your family going forward. As always…

Peace for the journey,

PS: Comments are closed on this post. If you’d like to be in touch, please send me an email. 

Find Him

“Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them …” (Matthew 5:1-2)

This world.

What a mess.

Spiritually speaking.
Emotionally speaking.
Physically speaking.
Politically speaking.
Relationally speaking.

A world-wide catastrophe in the making. A catastrophe come home to roost.

A world-wide population that is, at best, directionally challenged. We don’t know where we’re headed; we don’t know what to do next. We’re bumping into walls, and we’re bumping into one another. Bumps lead to bruises, and bruises leave us feeling damaged.

Lost and damaged. Indeed, a mess.

Jesus Christ has an answer for us. Not long ago, I heard (and saw) his answer dramatically portrayed on the screen in the Season 2 finale of The Chosen. Are you watching it? You should be. Dallas Jenkins and his array of writers and actors have given us a gift – God’s truth wrapped around dynamic dialogue and tender portraits. I’d be hard-pressed to name a favorite scene from the first two seasons; there are just too many. Each artistic license taken by the writers is carefully framed against the backdrop of scripture, leading me (and millions of other fans) to reach out for more. More truth. More Jesus. More conversations with our Savior.

And so it was a couple of weeks ago when the finale aired.

Jesus is discussing his upcoming inaugural, kingdom address (the Sermon on the Mount) with his disciple, Matthew. Jesus is working on the “intro” for his sermon throughout the episode, as Matthew takes notes. After a few days of wrestling with his thoughts, Jesus awakens Matthew in the early morning hours to let him know he’s worked out the particulars to his opening statement. Jesus tells Matthew that it’s a map of sorts … directions … where people should look for him.

And then Jesus begins his oration of the Beatitudes while tender scenes from the series mirror each of the “blessed.”

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. (Matthew 5:3 – 11)

As the scene finishes, Matthew is curious as to how the blessed are equal to a map.

Jesus’ response pierced straight through to my heart.

“If someone wants to find me, those are the groups they should look for.”

I was undone by the dialogue. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Could it be that the way to find Jesus in this lost and damaged, catastrophe-in-the-making world, where bumps and bruises are now the norm, is through the blessed? Are they a map that can lead us to a deeper, divine intimacy with Christ?

I think The Chosen is onto something. I find peace just thinking on it.

Accordingly, count me in. Give me the map. Wherever Christ is, that’s where I want to be, even if it means I have to course-correct … take a few steps in a new direction. Venture into some places that are less comfortable for me but, perhaps, more sacred. Crowds that are better suited for soul-development rather than destruction. Dots on the spiritual map where Christ is content to make himself manifest in the consecrated blessed ones.

In those who are poor in spirit.
In those who mourn.
In the meek.
In the spiritually hungry.
In the merciful.
In the pure in heart.
In the peacemakers.
In the persecuted.

Christ in the blessed.

In finding them, perhaps I’ll find more of Jesus. They are the blessed ones; he has named them so. And whomever he calls blessed, surely, he dwells in their midst.

Friends, I want to find them, and then I want to be found amongst them. Blessed. Next to Jesus and next to the Gospel that distinctly marks me as one of his and that dramatically points me in the right direction … toward home.

In the messy now. In the glorious then. And in every dot on the map in between.

In every place, the very blessed kingdom of God.

I’ll meet you on the road. As always…

Peace for the journey,

an unhindered walk in God’s meadow

Jadon called me yesterday afternoon to share some good news. He’s been gone for two weeks now, off to a summer’s worth of adventure at a family campground serving as the Activities Director. This is new territory for us; Jadon’s never been away from home for very long. And while it’s been an adjustment to my mothering heart, it’s been a necessary one. The boy was ready to step away from the nest; to keep him tethered to my side a moment longer would have been unfair to him and to those waiting for him on the other side. For as much as I’ve needed him under my roof all of these years, the world needs him under theirs for the rest of these years … doing what God has ordained him to do. Being what God has ordained him to be.

A kingdom-bringer.

His journey to get to this moment has been rigorous at times. The accident that nearly cost him his life physically has, instead, become the hinge moment that cost him his life spiritually. Jadon’s all-in with Jesus; he’s a solid, unwavering disciple of Christ who has prepared himself both practically and spiritually for bringing the good news of the Gospel to the pavement of everyday life.

Like yesterday.

With a day off from camp responsibilities, Jadon decided to get a hair-cut. He called around to a few places before landing an appointment at a salon not far from the campground. Inevitably, the scar on his scalp opens up the door for lively discussion. Yesterday was no different. The stylist’s curiosity was ripe soil for the sowing of Jadon’s story. He’s perfected the details and, depending on the situation, is ready to deliver either the short version or the long one. She got the long one.

In return, Jadon received a bit of her story as well. She grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness but left the group several years ago. In hearing Jadon’s testimony, she marveled at his words, even commenting, “No one has ever told me this before.” One question led to another, and a dynamic biblical discussion ensued. The excitement in Jadon’s voice in the re-telling to me was evident.

“Mom, it was like something came over me; there was a power there, and the words kept flowing like I have never known.”

Fast-forward to the closing moments of Jadon’s appointment. Once he had ascertained that the stylist didn’t have a real Bible, he made his way to his car where he keeps an extra one (just in case). He brought it back to her and asked her if her heart was inclined to make a decision for Jesus.

It was. And right there, in that not-so-random-pick of a salon, a stylist met her Savior for the very first time in her life.

From Jadon’s scars to her scars and, then, ultimately, to Jesus’ scars. A full circle kind of moment. The Gospel on the pavement of everyday life.

That’s everything. That’s it … the sum total of what we should be doing. The finest version of what we should be being.

Of all the million little things that happened in the world yesterday, nothing was more significant than the revelation of Jesus Christ to a lost soul in Asheboro, NC. Nothing. No thing. Just a girl coming to the realization that, until this single moment of her thirty-something years on this planet, no one had ever told her the truth. In hearing Jadon’s words, she heard her Father’s invitation to step boldly and confidently onto his solid ground – his Way, his Truth, and his Life – his Son, Jesus Christ.

As Jadon made ready to leave, he pointed to John’s Gospel and told her to start there. And as only God could orchestrate this holy moment, another customer in the shop overheard their entire exchange. She, too, was a believer and invited the stylist to come to church with her.

The Father’s love for the lost is so full, so complete … so generous and so kind.

And you know what gets all over me the most? It’s the thought that yesterday morning, a stylist went to work not knowing who would sit in her chair. She was oblivious to the fact that the soil of her soul was being plowed up to receive the Gospel seed of my son’s witness. That yesterday afternoon around 3:00 PM was the day … the moment of her salvation and that, for the first time in her life, she would take an unhindered walk in God’s meadow of grace, freedom, forgiveness, and truth.

Good news, indeed.

Yes, the world needs Jadon under its roof now. It needs all of us who are willing to surrender our lives accordingly. Our wills, our passions, our pursuits, our understandings, our scars – all given to the One who can make them count for his kingdom eternally.

May the hearing of this story encourage and strengthen you in your faith, and may you, like this new daughter of the King, walk unhindered in God’s meadow of grace today. May you be protected in that place of renewal and rebirth. May the beauty of his blossoms touch your feet and fill your senses with the reality of his unwavering presence alongside you. May you know, to the depths of your being, that the kingdom of God lives inside of you. It’s really that close.

And finally, may this holy ordination from God be your solid ground in the coming days, bringing you the clarity, strength, sweetness, and peace for the journey that lies ahead.

The world is a big place; the kingdom of God even bigger. What a blessing to rest under his roof tonight.

Amen.

a walk with dad

What do you do on the day after the most painful day of your life?

I’ll tell you what I did. I drove thirty miles down the road to Lake Benson Park by myself. I walked that familiar trail, over and over again, soaking in the sights and sounds and warmth of the sun. Why?

Because it’s all I knew to do – the closest way I could think of to get to the man I am now separated from…

My dad.

We used to walk that trail together – too many times to count. That trail is Garner, NC – it’s where I fell in love with the town that my mother and dad called home for many years. Whenever I round that familiar bend and spy that weathered red barn set against the backdrop of that sparkling lake, well, my soul breathes better. It feels like home … like mom and dad. Like I could hop in the car and be around their kitchen table in under three minutes.

Mom and dad don’t live in Garner anymore. They moved to Raleigh at the end of 2019 to a senior living community. And then 2020 happened. And then a continuing series of events that could not be helped that have finally culminated in the event that has caused us all great heartache and sorrow.

Yesterday, my mom walked dad down to a different wing of their senior retirement community where some assessing will be done regarding my dad’s care going forward. Accordingly, my mother (along with the rest of us) are separated from my father for the first time in our lives and for a time yet-to-be-determined.

I hope it’s not for long; my spirit tells me it will be longer than any of us would like.

And because of COVID restrictions, visits are limited to one person, one hour a week. To hell with it – really. It’s time for COVID and all its wretchedness to move back to the place from whence it came – to the bowels of hell.

History will not be kind to COVID-19 and all its separation rules, especially as it pertains to the elderly who aren’t sick and who’ve plunged a needle into their arms in hopes of having any measure of freedom. It will go down as one of the cruelest, most inhumane treatments ever perpetrated on humanity. It is wrong; it is evil; it is not living to live apart from those you love. Woe to the men and women who are arbitrarily making ill-fitted rules that keep loved ones apart at, perhaps, the most vulnerable times in their lives.

I believe this to the core of my being; I’ll preach it until my breath is gone. I’ll die on that hill, friends.

And so tonight, on the night after the most painful day of my life, my dad is sitting alone in a new room, probably wondering where we all went. Maybe not. I hope he’s not fully aware of the separation. But the rest of us are … fully aware of it all.

My hands are tied. Sometimes pain cannot be escaped but only embraced as a consequence of a less-than-desirable solution to a complex problem that really doesn’t have any good answers despite our praying toward that end.

And I have prayed … and prayed. Thought and thought. Rammed my will part-way through an impenetrable wall only to be left bloodied and bruised by good intentions.

The deepest desire of my heart is for my parents to have the best care going forward. It is the most natural impulse of my heart to honor the ones who gave me a good beginning by giving them a spectacular ending to their earthly journey – to hold their hands tightly, securely, courageously. To walk them home to Jesus with dignity. That’s how it should be; however, that may not be how it goes.

Accordingly, to date, the most painful day of my life.

I am in good company. I am moved tonight by a similar scene on a Judean hillside 2000 years ago. Jesus, in one of his final acts of love before his death on a cross, wanted to make sure that his mother had a good ending:

“When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, ‘Dear woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.” (John 19:26-27)

In the middle of his doing the work that he came to, while all the sins of the world (past, present, and future) were being strapped to his back and were ripping his flesh apart from top to bottom, Jesus looked beyond his personal pain and noticed his mother’s. It was the most natural impulse of his heart, to make sure that the woman who gave him his very good earthly beginning would, indeed, have a very good ending of her own.

There’s a kinship there on that soil … between Jesus and me. The love he had for his parents mirrors the love I have for mine. I would trade all of my earthly possessions in this moment to fix the separation that now exists between us all. Worldly things mean nothing compared to the eternal reward of getting home safely … securely … hand-in-hand with the ones given to our charge and keep.

That would be bliss. That would be best. And that is how I will continue to pray… for a better ending for the man and the woman I call mom and dad. What was served up yesterday ain’t it – not even close. Instead, it was wretched, terrible, and everything I had hoped it would not be.

So wherever daddy is tonight, I pray that through the gift of the companioning Holy Spirit’s presence in his life, he’ll know deep down the love we all have for him. I pray that, when he looks at our pictures, he’ll remember that we’re here for him, even though we’re separated from him.

And while I will never again have daddy’s companionship while walking around Lake Benson Park, and though I may not get the privilege of walking him home to Jesus hand in hand, he and I will have the fields of heaven to walk through together.

I know this to be true; our citizenship is certain. Of all the gifts he has ever given to me, this is the best one – the gift of Jesus Christ and my eternal residency therein.

That’s my small sliver of silver lining, friends. The only one I can find tonight. It will pull me through to tomorrow.

For those of you who know my folks and some of our story, we appreciate your prayers for brighter days. Would you speak a little favor on my dad and mom tonight? I do heartily believe in the power of prayer, and I know that God’s peace is available to us all.

I just haven’t been able to take hold of it recently.

#muchlove,

Back in 2014, Mayor Ronnie Williams of Garner interviewed my dad as “one of the great people of Garner.” You’ll enjoy seeing that interview by CLICKING HERE!

A cup of warmth; a cup of dignity

A cup of warmth; a cup of dignity.

That’s what I bought him today. It only cost me five bucks and a little bit of time – a small price in comparison to the gift given.

I saw him walking down Main Street, carrying a backpack along with multiple grocery store bags. Instead of holding his groceries, they held his worldly possessions. Freezing temperatures and spitting rain are hostile enemies of the homeless – just more fuel added to an already burgeoning fire of helplessness.

I wondered if he would follow me to the McDonald’s just down the road. Daughter and I were headed there for our usual Monday lunch date. McDonald’s is one of the last stops before the interstate. Perhaps he would venture in before venturing onward.

He did, quickly making his way to the back corner of the restaurant. A look of shame covered his face, his eyes not wanting to meet anyone else’s until they did … meet mine. Before praying at our table, I made my way over to his.

Can I buy you lunch, Sir? What would you like today?

He looked up; his response was humble.

Yes, whatever you’d like to get me.

After nailing him down as to the specifics, I brought a chicken sandwich, fry, and Sprite over to him. I asked him his name, and then I asked him how I could pray for him.

I want to be warm, and I want to be protected.

Accordingly, we prayed together.

As I made my way back to my table, the tears began to fall.

I watched my new friend out of the corner of my eye while he ate. He took off his hat, plugged in his small radio, and for a few minutes, he was warm. He was protected. For a little patch of his day, he belonged somewhere.

Funny how five bucks and a prayer can buy someone so very, very much.

A cup of warmth; a cup of dignity.

As my daughter and I bundled up to leave, I waved good-bye, walked out to my not-yet-paid-for vehicle, turned on its heater, and headed home.

I have so much; Bobby has so seemingly little.

But for a few moments today, we sat together on level ground, talking to the Ground-Leveler, Jesus Christ. At God’s feet and before his throne, life gets simpler … safer.

That’s where I want to live. That’s how I want to live. Giving the warmth and protection of Jesus Christ to others. In Christ, and in him alone, all people re-discover their dignity.

Pay attention to the world around you, friends. There’s a world full of Bobbys waiting for you to take notice. A little time on your hands, a little prayer in your heart, and a little money in your wallet will exponentially move the kingdom of God forward. To the Father’s glory, for his renown, and for his name’s sake give a cup of warmth and a cup of dignity to someone today. In doing so, you bring heaven to earth.

Amen.

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