Monday, November 27, 2006


I have a big mouth! Through the years, I have run my mouth, told lies, hurt feelings, spewed venom.
I do not believe we realize just how powerful our words are. I don't believe we fully understand the ability, especially as a Mother, to embrace a child or cut them to the quick. We must choose our words carefully, when dealing with our children. See, they have faith, big faith.

You tell them that God exists and loves them and that's what they believe.
You tell them that they are going to hell if they lie and that's what they believe.
Out of those two sentences, which do you want your child to embrace?
You must have the faith of a child to enter the gates of heaven, isn't that what it says? That is because, as a child we are so impressionable, so full of faith. So, mark your own words, before you say hurtful things, think first how it will STAY with that child. This is your first priority, Mothers, your first job. What will you do with the child, that God himself has entrusted you with?

Proverbs 18:21
Parallel Translations

NASB: Death and life are in the power of the tongue, And those who love it will eat its fruit. (NASB ©1995)
GWT: The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love to talk will have to eat their own words. (GOD'S WORD®)
KJV: Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.
ASV: Death and life are in the power of the tongue; And they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.
BBE: Death and life are in the power of the tongue; and those to whom it is dear will have its fruit for their food.
DBY: Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.
JPS: Death and life are in the power of the tongue; and they that indulge it shall eat the fruit thereof.
WBS: Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit of it.
WEB: Death and life are in the power of the tongue; those who love it will eat its fruit.
YLT: Death and life [are] in the power of the tongue, And those loving it eat its fruit.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Even the Little Child Comforts Us..


Don't you see, God will see fit to comfort us. This tugs at my heart strings. But many times, I can remember my own sons comforting me. He places his littlest Angels in the most precarious places...

Kenneth F. Trofatter, Jr., MD, PhD
Maternal-Fetal Medicine can be a rough business sometimes. The highs are great, but the lows can keep you down for days. I have always tried to abide by the admonition in the
House of God that one should always remember “the patient has the disease,” but sometimes that really is easier said than done. I can usually keep things in perspective, explaining complicated problems to patients at most levels of understanding in a way that they can appreciate the basic issues, while maintaining a reasonable level of emotional distance myself, but the other day, I got blind-sided. It is a poignant story and is worth relating to my readers. Situations that tug at the heart remind us that feeling is a privilege that we should not take for granted. I was called in to see a very poor Hispanic woman who was having her sixth baby. She had been sent because one of the baby’s kidneys could not be seen by ultrasound. She had had one son, the oldest child, about 11 years old, who was actually with her in the room as her only support person that day, followed by four daughters. She made it clear at the outset that she desperately wanted another son and had been told that this baby was, indeed, a boy. She was poorly educated, very frightened, and very anxious and communication with her, even with an interpreter, was limited because she spoke a ‘dialect.’ The ultrasound exam went very smoothly. The baby was appropriately grown and consistent with her ‘dates.’ She was about 33 and a half weeks’ and due on Christmas day. The baby was found to have a multicystic dysplastic (nonfunctional) kidney on the left side. But, the right kidney, ureter, and bladder were normal and all were working well because the baby had normal amniotic fluid (mostly fetal urine this late in pregnancy). The baby had no other visible abnormalities. In the simplest terms possible, I explained to her that the baby had only one kidney, but that he should do just fine after birth. Many people have only one kidney and this baby’s one good kidney had enlarged to compensate for the other kidney and should be able to support him through a long and normal life. Despite my reassurances, and my insistence that I was not holding anything back, that we had seen many babies in this situation and all had done well, she began sobbing softly. I was at a loss for words but, at this point, her son reached out and grasped her shaking hand, softly stroking her fingers and telling his mother that everything would be all right, and that he could not wait to see his new brother and to help take care of him. She relaxed immediately with his touch, looked into his eyes, and began to smile herself. He was an angelic child, mature, handsome and soft-spoken, and he obviously had a much firmer grasp of the situation than his mother. I thanked him for his help and told him that his brother would be a wonderful Christmas present for him and his family and his eyes sparkled. I looked at him, nodded my head in gratitude, smiled, and then got up to leave. In the dim light of the exam room, I noticed that his skin was ashen and his lips were parched. As I walked to the door, the interpreter came toward me and then clutched at my arm as I was going out the door. She thanked me for my help with the woman and then told me that she knew the family well. When I asked her if they were related, she looked back in the direction of the woman and her son and told me, “No, but you know that boy with her, he is her oldest child and her only son. She is upset because she really wants the baby to be normal. All the interpreters are close to them because her son is dying of leukemia and can’t have any more therapy. He just wants to live until Christmas to see his new brother before he dies.….” I was glad I was at the door when she told me that. It had been a long week and I was tired, but the tears in my eyes would have been there regardless. And you know what; they come back each time I tell this story to someone, even now while I am writing it down. Life is short, and shorter for some than others, but we can all contribute something in our own way in the little time we have…

Wednesday, November 22, 2006


I want to tell all my friends and family, those that read this or if you're just passing by, to have a wonderful Thanksgiving.
I want you to take one day out of one year of the rest of your life and live it without any guilt. I want you to eat like there's no tomorrow, love like you'll never know it another day and laugh till you can't laugh anymore. I want you to have hope and know unconditional and divine love for one day. I want you to remember those that have gone ahead and are not here to share in your turkey or your day. I want you to remember and be grateful, thankful for that time that you had with that person or persons.
Many of us feel utterly alone. But it's all perspective. Friends, good friends are family we hand pick. If you have no friends or family, you chose this. If you think you have no family, you chose this. Even if you never see or talk to another family member till the day you die, you are never alone unless you choose to be. Family, remains in our heart. Even when they are a 1000 miles away, they are always in my heart. Hell, they could live next door but if I choose not to have family, I won't. But they are as close as my memories. Choose to have family this year, even if you are alone. Celebrate laughter, love and life and find one thing, one little thing to be grateful for, no matter how miserable you believe you are. Search your heart for that laughter you once knew. If you are alone tomorrow, rejoice in a happy moment. If your Mom is gone, remember that look of love, like no other, her looking down upon you and be grateful. Find something, search your soul and be Thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Tuesday, November 21, 2006


I Corinthians 14:2-20

I received a nice comment, I think? She said that she "loved my take on religion until she read about speaking in tongues and she doesn't want anything to do with that fanatical garbage."

I understand her feelings. I've been to churches where I wanted to turn and run for higher ground. I've seen and heard a lot, in my quest for the truth, in my journey down this Spiritual path.
No, I don't walk around speaking in tongues and in fact scripture kinda frowns on that. It is a private thing, a language only God and I share.
What it all comes down to, is this? Do you believe all of the Bible or do you pick and choose? Will you only apply what you want? Do you believe that these things don't apply today? If you think like that, first, you are short changing yourself. Secondly, why bother believing anything at all? What is the point of having faith in the Words in Scripture, if it doesn't apply to today? Ask yourself this and tell me if I am wrong!

Monday, November 20, 2006


If you don't know it already, I moved to Long Island, because of my health and to help my Sister with her her son, Ryan. At 5 years old, Ryan is full of spunk but is often chaotic. He has Autism. He is a loving little boy in a frustrated world of little speech and communication. It is a hard day sometimes but I have to wonder if his days are often harder than mine. I have hope for Ryan, he is as brilliant, like a star in the Heavenly skies. He is often in his own world but throughout the day, I am given, like a present, a glimpse into his world. Autistic children are often known for not being very affectionate but not Ryan. His kisses and hugs sustain me and when he calls out,"B,"what he calls me, it is yet, another gift.
My Sister sent me a video, a song for Autism awareness. I challenge you to not watch it and not get a lump in your throat. I had a tear in my eye.
Click the link.

This is a repost...

I have moved here on Long Island to help my sister with my nephew, Ryan who is 4 years old and has Autism. A pleasant child, he is bright, extremely clever but locked away in a world I cannot reach. His vocabulary is very limited, thus he often becomes frustrated as I myself would if I could not explain my emotion, pain, joy or ask the million questions he must have. Does he take things at face value? Does he want to be uncommunicative? Is he content to live in his little world? He often laughs for what seems for no reason, he giggles and plays in his own little slice of heaven. I often believe he is entertained by Angels. I think he sees them and as he looks off into the distance, he sees something very interesting with a gleam in his eye. I think they play with him and he's quite content to be left alone. He doesn't fancy the therapy he must go through five days a week. He really would rather be left alone when his speech therapist comes three nights a week. But he has, for the most part, a content spirit. But we will push him and prod him to get the language skills, We will push to get him to recognize the things he needs to do for himself and to see or understand what is going on in the world. You rarely get eye contact but when he looks in to your eyes, it is without a doubt a connecting of souls, a brush with heaven. His smile is so warm and inviting, just as his laughter is contagious and goes straight to the warmest recesses of your own heart. He is rarely content to sit idly by and listen to you read a story from one of his children's books. He will watch a few programs on T.V. But often looses interest after a short period of time. He comes and gets me when he needs me and we wrestle and play but when he's done, he goes off on his next little adventure, until he needs my attention or wants something. But why would he do anything else...when he can play with Angels!!


I like stories like these... makes me think... and then it made me think of my friends and loved ones.

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the garage with a
steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in
the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned
into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from
time to time. Let me tell you about it:

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on
my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap
net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap,
with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the
kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting
business. He was telling whom-ever he was talking with
something about "a thousand marbles." I was intrigued and
stopped to listen to what he had to say

"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job.
I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be
away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a
young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a
week to make ends meet. It's too bad you missed your
daughter's "dance recital" he continued. "Let me tell you
something that has helped me keep my own priorities." And
that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know,
some live more and some live less, but on average, folks
live about seventy-five years.

"Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with
3900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average
person has in their entire lifetime. Now, stick with me,
Tom, I'm getting to the important part.

It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about
all this in any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had
lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays." "I got
to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had
about a thousand of them left to enjoy. So I went to a toy
store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up
having to visit three toy stores to round up 1000 marbles. I
took them home and put them inside a large, clear plastic
container right here in the shack next to my gear."

"Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and
thrown it away. I found that by watching the marbles
diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life.

There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth
run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with
you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning,
I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure
that if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given
a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a
little more time."

"It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time
with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the
band. This is a 75 Year old Man, K9NZQ, clear and going
QRT, good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow
signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I
had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I
was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next
club newsletter.

Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss.
"C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."
"What brought this on?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, nothing
special, it's just been a long time since we spent a
Saturday together with the kids. And hey, can we stop at a
toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

A Prayer in the Mist of Pain

My Lord, you know tonight I suffer from my pain. Please deliver me. Yes, as Job was tested and you know the story Lord, I am tested. I glorify your name Yeshua and I know you are my only hope. Please come to me and set down your Angels upon me and mine. You are the Great Physician, you can do this if you choose. Let it glorify your holy name.

Thursday, November 16, 2006


I Corinthians 14:2-20

It came to me when I was about 13.
Every Friday night, we went to Georgetown University, D.C., for their Born Again Christian Fellowship. This was during the Charismatic Movement of the 70's, the Auditorium was always packed with hundreds of people. I was a new believer as far as being born again. I'd had a strict Catholic upbringing but it left me empty and felt impersonal in many ways.

In that room, came a heavenly sound, like no other. During that Service/Meeting, a good portion of those in that room began to pray in tongues. It then became almost lyrical, musical and I've never, ever heard anything like it since.
They say that speaking in tongues, is a gift and I prayed for this gift. They also say, that it is a language only God can understand, unless you have the gift of Interpretation. I also believe that, my prayers can not be hijacked by Satan/HaSatan, when I pray in tongues and the prayers come straight from the depths of my soul. I don't know about you but Satan often attacks me while I pray. Or he distracts me with noise and I seem to be only going through a ritual, not really feeling my prayers and communing with God. But it's been a long long time, since I prayed in tongues and I don't know why?

True Pain

After reading my own post on praying in Tongues, the scientific and medical aspects of the unexplained, the brain during prayer in tongues, I lay there in my bed, before sleep, praying. Most times, I fall asleep praying. I've not had the constant nightmares I used to have, since I adopted this prayer time before slumber.
I am plagued with worry, most often, about my Granddaughter, Kassandra. She has Cystic Fibrosis. I've not seen Kassandra since she was a toddler. Back then, they had to beat her in the chest, back and sides with this cookie cutter looking thing. It was made of a hard foam, similar to something you would cut out biscuits with and it had a handle, to hold between your fingers. Kassandra would just cry, every time this was done and then just sob. The mental picture, of her sobbing, tears rolling down her little cheeks, rocks me to this day. That is the picture I get most nights as I begin my prayers and once again ask God to just allow her to breath one more night.

At The Foot Of The Cross

I covered up, settled in, distracted but was really trying to pray so I could go to sleep. I really didn't want to think any more that night. Something, my Spirit suggested praying in tongues. It enveloped me. I was tired as I crawled into bed but my Spirit woke right up. I stopped thinking and just let it go. My mind went blank but yet I was hearing myself steadily praying in tongues. My mind blackened. Suddenly, in my mind, I was at the foot of the cross. It was so real and I could feel loose dirt on my knees, I could even smell it. I knew where I was and I looked up and saw my Lord hanging there, caked in blood, he raised his brow at me. My tongue was praying so fast and suddenly I began to sob.I actually fought not to cry so hard but could not control it. It was as if I had a death in my family, that was the pain I suddenly felt, that, untouchable pain and I knew I was sobbing for my Lord. I tried to look at Him and I could not bear to look. The suffering was too much to look at, the pain was too much to bear. Then, the correlation was completely clear to me and a calm began to set back into me. I realized that I had actually had a death in my family. It was my Lord and he had died for me. We hear and say those exact words, all the time. But I felt it. I was there and I was in mourning. Are you hearing me? I was there at the foot of the cross and I knew he was up there for me. It was a personal death, just for me, not in a selfish way but I could feel and I knew the importance and magnitude of his death and it was for me.
I cried myself to sleep. At the same time, it was a huge release and a huge understanding of the immense meaning of my Lord dieing for me. I also understood the sacrifice of my Father for allowing his son to take on the weight of sin, the weight of the world. God could have easily obliterated the world but he chose to allow his son to die for me. For me! I can't really explain it all but I now know. Yes, I know. Pray for your gifts. I want you to have this too!

I Corinthians 14:2-20

2For anyone who speaks in a tongue[a] does not speak to men but to God. Indeed, no one understands him; he utters mysteries with his spirit.[b] 3But everyone who prophesies speaks to men for their strengthening, encouragement and comfort. 4He who speaks in a tongue edifies himself, but he who prophesies edifies the church. 5I would like every one of you to speak in tongues,[c] but I would rather have you prophesy. He who prophesies is greater than one who speaks in tongues,[d] unless he interprets, so that the church may be edified.

6Now, brothers, if I come to you and speak in tongues, what good will I be to you, unless I bring you some revelation or knowledge or prophecy or word of instruction? 7Even in the case of lifeless things that make sounds, such as the flute or harp, how will anyone know what tune is being played unless there is a distinction in the notes? 8Again, if the trumpet does not sound a clear call, who will get ready for battle? 9So it is with you. Unless you speak intelligible words with your tongue, how will anyone know what you are saying? You will just be speaking into the air. 10Undoubtedly there are all sorts of languages in the world, yet none of them is without meaning. 11If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and he is a foreigner to me. 12So it is with you. Since you are eager to have spiritual gifts, try to excel in gifts that build up the church.

13For this reason anyone who speaks in a tongue should pray that he may interpret what he says. 14For if I pray in a tongue, my spirit prays, but my mind is unfruitful. 15So what shall I do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind. 16If you are praising God with your spirit, how can one who finds himself among those who do not understand[e] say "Amen" to your thanksgiving, since he does not know what you are saying? 17You may be giving thanks well enough, but the other man is not edified.

18I thank God that I speak in tongues more than all of you. 19But in the church I would rather speak five intelligible words to instruct others than ten thousand words in a tongue.

20Brothers, stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults.


  1. 1 Corinthians 14:2 Or another language; also in verses 4, 13, 14, 19, 26 and 27
  2. 1 Corinthians 14:2 Or by the Spirit
  3. 1 Corinthians 14:5 Or other languages; also in verses 6, 18, 22, 23 and 39
  4. 1 Corinthians 14:5 Or other languages; also in verses 6, 18, 22, 23 and 39
  5. 1 Corinthians 14:16 Or among the inquirers

Wednesday, November 08, 2006


Are the gifts of old, nil today? I think not. You cannot take bits and pieces of the bible and say, "Oh, I'll believe this but I will not believe that."

I think these gifts are readily available to us, God willing. Seek and you will find. I found this very interesting, to say the least!

Published: November 7, 2006

The passionate, sometimes rhythmic, language-like patter that pours forth from religious people who “speak in tongues” reflects a state of mental possession, many of them say. Now they have some neuroscience to back them up.

Researchers at the University of Pennsylvania took brain images of five women while they spoke in tongues and found that their frontal lobes — the thinking, willful part of the brain through which people control what they do — were relatively quiet, as were the language centers. The regions involved in maintaining self-consciousness were active. The women were not in blind trances, and it was unclear which region was driving the behavior.

To read the rest...

Tuesday, November 07, 2006


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Don't wait till the 11th hour to might die at 10:30!!!

I happen to believe that my God is a loving God. I also believe he forgives me. He created me and he knows the very nature of my being, does He not? We were given free will because he wants us to choose him and respect his law.
The difference in being religious or a Spiritual person, like myself, I believe is two-fold;
I am not perfect but realize that if I am trying, I have only to go to the Lord for forgiveness. Being Spiritual, I also realize that the guilt associated with my non-perfection, does not come from God.
I don't believe that my Lord places blame and guilt in my heart. Actually, I believe it is Satan/HaSatan that does his very best to point the finger at me. When you have a burden of guilt, it can weigh you down and break you.

I can remember a time in my life where I ran from God because I didn't feel I could measure up and be "good." I still suffer from this dilemma, as we all do but now I realize that I can choose to try to do right and respect the Law, the Laws of God. I am no longer running. I am a hopeless sinner, I stand convicted of every single crime, I've committed against my Lord. But I have only to ask forgiveness and my Lord and Savior, who died on the cross for my sins, will forgive me. He died for MY sins, not just the religious, stone throwing zealots, you know the ones that are so good at pointing out MY sin? With a true heart and true emotion, I ask for forgiveness. His divine grace and mercy is given to ME! I continually sin. Every day, in every way, I manage to pull off another bonehead sin. Christ/Yeshua died for me but that doesn't give me a license to sin and do what I want. No, in fact, it holds me accountable, doesn't it? Now, I can only try to do right, try harder and try to learn from my mistakes along the way. This is the true Spiritual Journey.
It is really important for us to realize that Satan is a liar. He will do his best to make us feel just horrible because we can't measure up. The only person to ever measure up is Christ himself and in his perfectness, he gave his very life for me. I don't deserve it but there's a fine line there that Satan uses every single gosh darn day to remind me that I am unworthy. Satan does his darnedest to really make me feel so awful, such a pile of dung and garbage. He's a tricky bugger, a counterfeit kind a guy who will cause you to ruin your life with drugs and crime, all to shut up the pain. But he also dishes out the pain and meets out the insult to injury of every day life. He doesn't want to see me happy in Christ. Oh no, he wants me for his dirty work. He had me at one point because I had a mixed up sense of religion. No more Satan. I am a daughter of God, Bat and you will not step on me, hold me down or try to kill me anymore. I'm not working for you ever again.

I just love this story. It is a re-post from last February.


Dart Test...


In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke, it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking...
A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says that Dr. Smithwas known for his elaborate object lessons.One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for a fun day.On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr.Smithtold the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person's picture. Sally's friend drew a picture of who had stolen her boyfriend. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she had achieved.The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats. As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a chance to throw any darts at her target. Dr. Smith began removing the target from the wall.Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced. Dr.Smith said only these words... "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me."Matthew 25:40.No other words were necessary; the tears filled eyes of the students focused only on the picture of Christ. This is an easy test; you score 100 or zero. It's your choice!!

Monday, November 06, 2006


If we could all think in a charitable light, life would be so much more palatable, wouldn't it?
Charity=Love Love=Charity

Arlington National Cemetery.

Rest easy, sleep well my brothers.
Know the line has held, your job is done.
Rest easy, sleep well.
Others have taken up where you fell, the line has held.
Peace, peace, and farewell...

Readers may be interested to know that these wreaths -- some 5,000
-- are donated by the Worcester Wreath Co. of Harrington, Maine.
The owner, Merrill Worcester, not only provides the wreaths, but
covers the trucking expense as well. He's done this since 1992 .. A
wonderful guy. Also, most years, groups of Maine school kids
combine an educational trip to DC with this event to help out.
Making this even more remarkable is the fact that Harrington is in
one the poorest parts of the state.

(Courtesy of Wysteria)


Heavenly Father, I come before you and ask for forgiveness. I ask for a miracle, not a small one but one of great proportion. My granddaughter, Kassandra has Cystic Fibrosis. She is 8 years old and I've not seen her since she was a baby. I've not seen her because her Mother wants nothing to do with me because of my past behavior with my addiction. I can't blame her but I have been clean since the baby was born. I quit heroin about two weeks before Kassandra's birth.
You are the Great Physician, my Lord. I believe you will heal her, if you choose. May it glorify your Holy Name. My Savior, when I have a hard time breathing, as I often do, I am always reminded of Kassandra and how hard it must be for her. Ease her suffering. Clear out her lungs and all that mucous in her system. She does not deserve to be punished for the sins of the Father or the Mother or even me. She was just a little baby gasping for air. Please my Lord, deliver her from all these symptoms. I believe if you choose to do this, it will be, in the blink of an eye. I ask all this in Jesus/Yeshua's name. Praise you Lord!