It has been 10 years
now since I gave my
life and heart to
Jesus, and to this
day, I have not
regretted one moment
of it. My God
has blessed me more
in the last 10 years
than I've ever been
in my life.
I had never been to
a Salvation Army
church in my life
until the night I
gave my heart to the
Lord. I carried too
much bitterness in
my heart for a very
long time, from the
verbal abuse of my
husband. I
stopped trusting
anyone and I did not
care for those
supposing to be
Christians. I
called strife makers
and fun makers.
I had enough to deal
with in my own
little world.
I had a nervous
breakdown in 1990
from years of let
downs, one after
another that left me
scarred and feeling
very empty and very
little feelings at
all.
I blamed it all on
my husband who made
me feel so little.
I stored it all
inside like hidden
treasure until it
hardened my heart
with scars. I
went through years
of verbal abuse.
I never even knew
what verbal abuse
was back then; I
just took it for
granted I was dumb.
It's the cutting
words that go deep
within your heart
and do damage,
beyond repair.
I started needing
nerve pills because
I could not deal
with the hurts of
life. I would
pop a pill, then pop
another, then I
needed two or three
and soon began
taking eight a day
to get me through.
I got so addicted,
my body would
tremble as if I
never had them.
Then one day I took
the entire bottle,
not to kill myself
because I was scared
to die, but I needed
peace.
I ended up in a
mental ward for two
weeks. I would
not allow my husband
to visit. I
started to hate him.
I thought when I got
out of the hospital,
life would be better
but things got
worse. Although, by
this time my husband
had gotten saved, to
me it was a little
too late. I
could not have cared
less. I had
built a wall around
my heart that a
crane could not
move. I had no
more tears, I had no
feelings, everything
was dead. From
time to time someone
from our church
would say "You
should hear the
prayers going up for
you". I'd say
"Big deal...don't
you tell me how good
my husband is".
My brick wall was
getting thicker and
thicker. The
more he prayed for
me, the colder I
got.
But God never left
my side. It
was after my
breakdown that I
started writing
poems. It was
as if my feelings
would come out and
flow through my pen.
Looking back now, I
can see that God was
working on me
through my poems,
because it took away
some of the hate.
But little did I
know God was
shipping away at the
hate in my heart.
On June 18th,
Father's Day, I went
to church, and at
the alter call they
were singing "Just
As I Am" and without
one plea, on the 3rd
verse, I walked up
to Jesus and fell at
his feet. He
took away all the
hate and the scars I
had in my heart.
Today both my
husband and I are
serving the Lord.
Life is still not
easy for me because
I have chronic
kidney failure and
need a transplant.
I'm in pain nearly
24 hours a day, but
I love my Jesus and
I will serve Him
until He takes me
home.
I thought things
would be more simple
in my life, but
things got worse
more than I ever
thought a human
could bear. I
became partially
paralyzed from a
gland in my neck so
the doctors had to
remove my gland.
While doing that,
they discovered a
lump on my left side
of the neck.
They never told me
about this lump
until six weeks
later and then they
informed me it was
cancer, and how
lucky I was that
they found it when
they did. So I
was taken off the
transplant list,
going on three years
now. I had one
blood infection
after another, and
had to be taken to a
city hospital five
hours away.
Just as I would get
better, I'd get
another. My
body was tired and
weary from all the
anguish I was
taking.
In July of 2006 they
rushed me to St.
Johns hospital again
with a very bad
blood infection.
I had to go on
dialysis five days a
week to keep my
blood clean. I
was getting
exhausted and coming
to the end of my
rope. Friday
came I and asked the
doctor if I could go
home. He
flatly refused, and
little did I know
what that what would
happen in the next
few hours would tear
my world apart
forever.
I came off dialysis
and was brought back
into my room.
Everything seemed
normal. My
husband leaned over
me as I thought to
kiss me. But
the look in his eyes
were frightening.
He started to speak
but his words were
quivering. I
got scared and asked
what was wrong.
He said, "I have bad
news" and with that,
I lost it and
started screaming
even before I knew
what was wrong.
My son was murdered
in Scarbrough,
Ontario while I was
lying in a hospital
bed in Newfoundland.
The bottom just fell
out of my heart and
soul. I had no
feelings at all.
Because of this, the
doctor gave consent
for me to come home,
and be in our own
hospital.
The funeral went on
without me. No
good byes or last
minute hug.
Last December, I was
told I had to have
both kidneys removed
or I could die.
Another bombshell.
How in the world can
I live with no
kidneys? I was
scared to death.
It's now one year
later. I return to
see the cancer
doctor in two weeks
to see if I am
cancer free. They
will put me back on
the transplant list.
Through it all, I
never stopped
trusting in Jesus.
Day after day I
spend my life in
pain. But not
many here know it.
Through it all I
love my Jesus more
and more.
Because He died that
I may have eternal
life. If I
never get a kidney
here on earth, I
won't need one in
Heaven.
Praise God for his
love
Written by Ann Hart,
copyrighted
annhart2000@yahoo.com
http://www.poetrypoem.com/cocoannspoems