This is the second in a series of word studies that I am doing to try to reveal the best explanation of a specific scripture.
For it is impossible, in the case of those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, to restore them again to repentance, since they are crucifying once again the Son of God to their own harm and holding him up to contempt.- Hebrews 6:4-6
What is “the heavenly gift”?
Life, grace, righteousness (Vines)
And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.-Romans 5:16-17
Once again, scripture shows that Jesus cancels out Adam’s legacy. Adam brought condemnation. Jesus brought justification.
It’s depressing to me that people find it easier to believe in an angry God than a God of mercy. People find it easier to accept defeat than to believe in victory. The problem is that they can’t get over their relationship to the Law.
For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do.–Romans 8:3
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.-1 Corinthians 15:56
Think of it like an abusive ex who was a good person until alcohol made him or her a terrorist. The fear-laced memory of the former is stealing your ability to be loved and accepted by anyone new.
It’s hard to accept a gift if you don’t trust the giver. What’s in it for them? And what are they going to require of you if you accept it?
I remember when I was six-years-old and living in a foster home with a couple that couldn’t conceive their own children. I always thought it was why the foster mom didn’t seem to like me. She would point out my flaws and had an uncanny knack for making me feel ashamed of myself for being me.
I was the only child in the house and used to sit in front of the mirror and pretend I had a friend. I would stare at my features trying to figure myself out. I had a hard time feeling real. Sometimes I would try to see my real mom in my face. But, most of the time I would stare at my body and wonder what made me unwanted.
When I would catch her watching me, she would tell me that I was “very vain” and walk away. Her words cut through me like a serrated blade and I literally winced.
I still wince.
I tried to be good and to show her that I had manners, but when I called her ‘ma’am’, she grabbed the skin on my throat, tugging me toward her so that we were face-to-face. While pinching my skin so hard that I could feel my heart beat in my neck, she gritted her teeth and told me that I was never to call her ‘ma’am.’
I wanted to give her gifts for Christmas, but had no money, so I went in my room and looked for something she might like. My real mom was a gypsy, and every time I got taken away from her she would give me pieces of her jewelry so that I would be connected to her. I went into my room and found one of my mother’s rings. I never would have given it away if I didn’t think it would make my foster mom love me.
I didn’t have a box, but wanted it to be safe, so I hid it in a wad of soft toilet paper. Then I sneaked a scrap of wrapping paper and some tape.
When I placed the gift under the tree, the foster mom went over and picked it up. I could tell I was about to be in trouble, but I knew that when she opened it she would be impressed. It was a piece of my six-year-old heart in that terribly wrapped wad. I suddenly felt ashamed seeing what looked like an odd piece of trash in her hand. Christmas was still a few days away, so it surprised me when she ripped it open. She was so rough with it that the ring fell on the floor.
She bent down to look at it and said, “Serena, you don’t give people your used junk as gifts.” Then she walked away.
I felt small and sick. The foster mom had rejected me and I betrayed my real mom. I picked up the tainted ring, threw it in the bathroom trash, and went to my room because I couldn’t hide my emotions. I felt alone and I wanted my mom back. I thought I was honoring her by throwing it and the memory it would now represent in the trash, but it kept calling out to me in my mother’s voice. I ran to the trash, dug it out, and put it under my pillow so that I could hold it in my hand all night. Cleansed with the sweat of my sticky palm.
I went on to several different foster homes after that. They weren’t all as lonely as that one, but I never did get my fill of love.
I told you all that to tell you that it has always been hard for me to accept love. After I became a Christian, I still felt like a foster child with God. I wasn’t one of His prized possessions. I was a dirty little street kid that He let come around. I felt like He had bonds with others that He didn’t share with me. I felt like He spoke secrets to others that He never told me.
I was still loyal to Him and tried to prove my worth. I wanted Him to love me and I never had to question it if I never did anything wrong. I relied on my conscience to give me a vacant spot on His floor. But, I still felt like an odd piece of trash in a scrap of wrapping paper.
When I sinned my huge, horrible sin, I was told that I was no longer welcome. All of His other kids told me that His love doesn’t reach to the depths of my filth and the decent thing would be to disappear. They honored Him by throwing me away.
I felt small and sick. My shame screamed in my ears and my heartbeat mocked my spirit. I was the rejected betrayer, once again. I was the ring calling out from the trash.
God came running after me. He left everyone in the house and called my name into the night.
God never spoke to me when I was earning my way the way He does now that I am incapable. I find His grace in the clarity of His voice. I find life in what I hear Him say. He never called me righteous until I knew for a fact that I wasn’t.
He held me through my night and cleansed me with the blood in his sticky palm.
That’s ‘the Heavenly gift.’
I only have a couple of photos of myself when I was a child. I have a photocopied picture of myself when I was six, but I ‘X’ed it out when I was little. A forever reminder of my self-worth. This is the closest I could get to my age from the story. It’s a picture of me when I was three.
Below are some suggestions for discussions:
Events in your past affect the way you handle life now. Things that you struggle with in your relationships, even in your own head, have a root. Often times, we make attribute human qualities to God. We limit Him. This makes it hard to trust His love, to accept His ‘heavenly gift’, and believe that He is not judging our worth based on us.
Posted: July 29th, 2011 |
Filed under:life | Tags:personal |
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Writing is my therapy. Most of what I write is never read. It’s me getting through a moment, bleeding it dry, then throwing the poison out. Sometimes I think I would be a great song writer. I can take a moment that is sopping with emotion and wring every last bit of it onto the paper. But, I’m too private to let it be read. Writing is too vulnerable. But isn’t that what makes it beautiful? Real can only connect with real. We all have insecurities that we keep pushed out of the public eye. We laugh so that we don’t cry. We say “she” when we mean “I”. We skip out when we can’t fake it. We dress baggy when we don’t have the strength to suck it in.
We all have an inner voice that torments us into hiding. We think we have to keep it together or everyone will leave us. Like they’re the child and you’re the broken toy.
Quite a while back I wrote a poem when my my life didn’t rhyme. My inner voice constantly told me that I didn’t exist. Something is always trying to tell me that I don’t matter. There are always ways to turn it into something religiously significant, but that only takes away from the intestinal level of humanity. Everything is significant and you don’t have to put a religious ™ to give it significance. We are human beings. We were created this way. It’s all significant.
Insecurity puts words in another’s mouth that they never said. Insecurity keeps us from asking them to just come out and say it. Insecurity is normal and, at least for me, it’s fleeting. That’s why I don’t offer myself to it. Sometimes it’s caused by a lack of sleep, or a misinterpreted remark, or a hormonal flux. I don’t buy into it, but I’ll write through it.
So, if you’re feeling invisible, forgotten, or insignificant, then this post is for you.
This is a piece of my writing that has never seen the light of day. I don’t remember what, exactly, brought this on, but that’s what happens when you let some light in after creating in the dark. The emotion is gone, but the art remains. I titled this ‘ghost’ and it’s me talking back to my “demons” who tell me I don’t exist and, at the time, I wasn’t sure if I did.
you don’t exist.
oh, little ghost, go away. i think they think you’re me.
you’re tormenting me. i’m believing crazy things.
you’re bullying me into a corner.
you don’t exist.
‘little ghost. little ghost.
what i’m scared of the most.’
i can’t see anyone anymore. is it you or is it me?
are you all that’s left?
we must exorcise.
but, not me! i’m still here.
aren’t i?
you don’t exist.
is it true, are they right?
i’m alone.
i have no fight left.
i can still hear you. i can still see.
they come in and take what’s mine.
i watch them come and i watch them go.
i watch them leave without taking me.
when i talk, i’m not heard
when i cry, i do so it’s not seen.
they’re lying to me and i believe them.
i would raise a flag, I would raise a fist,
but they won’t see.
a ghost.
This is a side note, but this photo was taken as a screen shot for a 20's period movie I was going to do about a ghost.
Posted: May 23rd, 2011 |
Filed under:book, life | Tags:personal |
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I was invited to speak at a ‘Building a Community of Hope’ conference in Canada this month. Part of their mission is to identify with the need for the church to be a place for the broken to come and find the hope of Jesus. People tend to bury their past and their failures before they enter the Christian community. The ugliness of pain and failure are not a good fit among those who are perceived to have the answers to a morally fit life. Like a member of a kingdom where the king dons invisible clothes and everybody is too afraid to say they can’t see what they are told only the best members of the kingdom can see. I was one of those people until my buried damage caught up to me. This is me sharing my story:
(About a minute of footage in the beginning was lost due to technical difficulty, but the message is still there.)
Traylor Lavvorn of ‘Route1520: The Journey Home’is hosting a week of stories from people whose ‘masks’ have been stripped away so that they can live in freedom. The series is titled ‘Unmasked’.
We always have an idea and a plan for our own lives, but it doesn’t take long before we learn that God has other ideas and plans. We all have a story and we don’t get to pick the parts that are used. More often that not, it’s the things we want to wish away that are the most potent.
What an amazing twist when our shame is brought out in the open and given a new name with a new purpose. Our weakness collides with His strength and there is nothing left but redemption. Our worst turned into a cause for praise.
When I wrote my first book, I was consumed with all the things I was learning. I went to scripture, initially, to hear the final word from the final Voice because I knew, and everyone else who knew me knew, that I was done for. I couldn’t shake whatever it was inside me that wouldn’t let me give up and I needed something to make me let go. I was not looking for something to make me okay, I was looking for the death blow of judgment.
“Tell me you don’t love me so I can be free from this pain.”
But He didn’t. Instead, He showed me something. This panoramic view that doesn’t stop when I turn right or turn left to reach its end. It has no end.
…and I’ve been writing about it ever since.
I am still completely entrenched in scripture because it’s alive to me. I can see it clearly. I write constantly. I am consumed with thinking about all these things, …the depths of Truth, …and I can’t get enough. He, like wild, silent wind, is speaking to me…showing me things…and the only way to relieve the pressure is to open myself up and pour it out.
When I wrote ‘Grace Is For Sinners’ I literally shook at the keyboard. I could not get my fingers to type fast enough. A violent picture of eternity being poured into the fragility of flesh and blood until that flesh and blood was ready to burst at the seams. What spills out is my worship. It creates the feeling that if I held it in, I would die. It’s almost too much.
Another tsunami of information and clarity is pouring into me and I am back to that place of being so consumed, I’m squirming in my skin. It’s too much for isolated blog posts. I have to write until it stops and then I’ll have to give it a name and put it in another cover-bound piece of worship.
When I tried to get my first book published, I was told that the work I had written was too big for me. I already knew that. I published it myself and, though I don’t know how, it has made it’s way across the world. It has found a home in the hands of strangers. It is fulfilling its purpose with no help from me or a money-backed entity.
I don’t know what path this next book will take. Whether it is published by me or a bigger corporation is not my concern. I have to write, regardless. It’s screaming inside me and writing alleviates the a bit of the pressure, though it doesn’t lift the burden. It’s a weird kind of painful. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but I can identify with this…
“…necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!”-Paul, 1 Corinthians 9:16 ESV
I will be blogging less frequently while I write this other book. If you want to keep up on little tidbits, I share them on my facebook page.
I’m answering the summons. I’m telling you this so that you know what’s going on and you can keep me in your prayers.
If you’ve read my book, I mentioned being on the Today Show. I was on it twice, once in January of 2004 and again in May 2004. As most of you know, my affair took place in the spring of 2005. So, this is me almost exactly a year before that happened. Anyway, a little background about the Today Show appearance: I saw that the Today Show was asking people to write a 300-word essay talking about their relationship with their daughter and it had to go along with the song ‘In My Daughter’s Eyes.’ I hadn’t heard the song, so I listened to it and started bawling. That song was so us.
My daughter Natalie had no idea what my childhood was like or the way God used her arrival to change my life. I didn’t know how I would tell her or at what point I would tell her, so I saw this contest as the perfect opportunity. I thought I would write it down, send it in, and keep the entry as something to put in a memory book so that she would know my story and her significance in it. I never thought I would win. But, I did.
I am a very private person. I never talked about my childhood because I felt like it didn’t represent me well. It’s not who I was. I didn’t want people to see me as damaged goods or have pity on me. I’m just not …that.
I remember sitting on the hotel bed in New York the night before my appearance. I had just finished a pre-interview with the producer of the ‘Today Show’ and cried during the whole thing. I dreaded repeating that on the ‘Today Show.’ I dreaded it because I can’t stand crying and because this would be the first time most of the people in my life would hear me talk about these things I had buried.
I’ll never forget my how God answered my prayer when I told Him: “God, I don’t want people to see me as this victim. I hate what I went through and I just want it to disappear. I want to be ‘normal’.” God’s answer was very clear and it continues to give me the courage to share this part of my story. His response was, “What happened to you is not a reflection of who you are. It’s a reflection of who they are.” (‘They‘ meaning the people who hurt me.)
Thankfully, Katie Couric didn’t interview me as planned. She let me read my entry as a way to tell my story.
Someone found the footage from my ‘Today Show’ experience and showed it to me, so I want to share it here. My last name was different then and I didn’t live in Buzzards Bay, I lived on Cape Cod near Mashpee. But, that’s just a side note.
Another side note, me sharing my story – whether it’s about my childhood or about my sin – is not how I would normally be. As I said, I am very private. However, I lost the right to my life and how it’s used when I died to myself. I have no doubt what God has called me to do and it’s out of obedience that I set aside public opinion and the desire for a normal, private, life to answer that call. God gave me my life back out of sheer grace and holds me together with His love. I have no rights left. I belong to Him and I’ll pour myself out until I am no longer here.
This is the music video that I was in. They didn’t make an ‘official’ video for ‘In My Daughter’s Eyes’ because it had already been out for too long. It wasn’t a financially wise decision at that point. I am in the video for ‘How Far’ and I’m only in the first verse. That’s me and my daughter on the television in the living room.
After the video shoot, which took place in Alamogordo, New Mexico, the ‘Today Show’ found out that Martina and I had become friends and wanted to surprise her by bringing me back on the show when she was there for an outdoor concert. I had no idea how cold it would be that day and felt goofy in my fancy outfit, but the experience was amazing. I’ll never forget how unbelievably kind and generous Katie and Martina genuinely were and are.
It is clear to us, friends, that God not only loves you very much but also has put his hand on you for something special. When the Message we preached came to you, it wasn’t just words. Something happened in you. The Holy Spirit put steel in your convictions.- 1 Thessalonians 1:4-6
I have seen my share of heartache in life. Loss and grief have dug grooves like raging rivers. The blood in my soil runs very, very deep. I see all that I’ve been through as a means to enrich me with things God can use to enrich others. “A poured out offering.” Loss counted as gain because the foundation, the powerful current flowing under the surface of my rivers, are built on and powered by the absolute assurance that nothing happens without purpose. When trouble comes I find hope that it could be worse. When my plans hit a brick wall, it’s because God is saving me from what is on the other side of that wall. It’s an act of mercy.
My daughter was at a birthday party Saturday night. I’ve been so busy, trying to cram as much into the tiny spaces of my time, that I messed up what time I was supposed to pick her up. When I got the phone call that I was late, I grabbed my keys and told my shoeless girls that they have to stay home while I went to get their little sister. My husband was out of state so we were all going to have a ‘girls night’ at the movies later. I told them to be ready and I’d be back in a few minutes.
The roads have been covered with snow for a week, but this night they were clear. Most of them anyway. I took a back road to cut time. I have a 4-wheel drive and, after driving for a week without issue, I wasn’t worried. The sun was going down and, though I didn’t know it, the melted snow started to freeze.
I hit a patch of black ice and felt the rear of my SUV lose traction. My dad was a great teacher. As the oldest of eight children, the vehicle I learned to drive in was a Suburban. I know what to do on ice and I know what to do with a heavy vehicle. I turned my wheel toward the spin. First one way, then the other. The problem was, I was going down a hill and it was all icy. I was gaining speed and losing control.
My SUV started sliding sideways down the hill, but, still, I managed to maneuver out of it. When I did, I saw the headlights coming my way. I wasn’t going to be able to get my vehicle under control before we met.
I can’t stand the thought of hurting someone. I would rather be the one who got hurt. I have a high threshold for pain.
Fighting the ice was making it worse. With someone coming toward me, I lost my window. I let my vehicle go off the road. I knew I’d be stuck, but that was better than what I saw ahead. I didn’t realize that the side of the road was down a steep little hill and that the weight of my SUV would compact the snow into a perfect surface to continue sliding. When I saw the tree in front of me, I shut my eyes and waited for the impact.
It’s all like slow motion. The snap of branches. The scream of twisting metal. The splintering windshield. I hit my head on my steering wheel. I broke the steering column with my forearm. The airbags failed. I opened my eyes and watched steam rise out of the mess in front of me.
I couldn’t find my phone to call my friend. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I got out to walk the rest of the way to where they were waiting for me. Some people had stopped and were running toward me. Two more wrecks happened while we stood there talking and waiting to be rescued.
The couple who ran toward me had this strange look in their eyes and kept asking me if I was okay, like they didn’t believe it. I was. I didn’t hurt at all. I know I bumped my head, but it didn’t hurt. They stood there and listened to my account. I told them that I refused to hit the car coming toward me. I was so thankful. The man nodded and said, “That car was us.”
My friends got there with my daughter. While I stood there crying with Ashley, her husband walked a ways away with the other couple to talk. They told him that they knew I was trying not to hit them and when they saw the wreck, they had no doubt that I didn’t survive. Seeing me walk around the back of the SUV shocked them. Then they told him what I was so afraid was the case. I didn’t have my kids with me, but I had no idea what those headlights coming toward me had behind them. When I found out that the couple was with their three kids, I started crying.
So unbelievably thankful.
My SUV is ruined, but I’m not. I am bruised but I’ll heal. I only had liability on my vehicle. Instead of counting my losses, financially mostly (medical bills and the cost of a new family vehicle), I’m counting my blessings. I have so many of them. I believe in God’s sovereignty and I know that there is good that will come out of this.
I was in the emergency room waiting for my cat scan when a woman walked in and gave me a curious look. She was there to wheel my bed down the hall. She introduced herself and shook her head in disbelief. She said, “I can’t believe you’re here. Your story has changed my life. I failed miserably. Lost my marriage, my church family, all my friends… and couldn’t find anything to give me hope. Then someone sent the video you made and it gave me so much hope. I know that God still loves me.”
While I was in the cat scan machine, holding “very still”, she wrote her contact information on a scrap piece of paper so that we could meet and she could tell me her story. I can’t wait to hear it.
God knows what He’s doing. Loss is gain when you believe that. All of my stuff will get worked out. I have no doubt. Sometimes God allows what could be a disaster to fulfill His purpose. Trust is the key to finding joy with the trouble.
Although great trouble accompanied the Word, you were able to take great joy from the Holy Spirit!—taking the trouble with the joy, the joy with the trouble. -1 Thessalonians 1:6
I was approached by a producer for Oprah’s new network, OWN, to be part of a new series on adultery. I don’t have an issue with the series. Their goal is to bring the subject out into the open and share stories of others who have been through it and survived. They want to give these stories some ‘take away value’ in order to help people who are in the hell of going through it.
I was to be an ‘especially exceptional’ point of view because most of the people who are willing to talk are those whose marriages survived. I have friends who are going to be a part of this series and I’ll be watching when their episode airs.
My story is different. I only talk about my affair because of God’s grace for the worst scenario. Without it, I never would have survived the guilt and shame.
I turned down the opportunity because I need to keep a tight reign on how my ‘happy ending’ is used and portrayed. If they edit out the reason I’m okay, then I’m just a selfish girl with nothing to say. The other stories, the marriages that survived, will give wholesome hope even if their relationship with God gets edited out. Mine, on the other hand, has the potential to give false hope to people who think they can survive without grace.
Affairs destroy people. I refuse to be portrayed as an example of a happy ending with the part about grace edited out. Without it, the hope in my life doesn’t add up.
I’ve had a few ’15 minutes’, I’ll have a few more. Just not this one.
I was recently made aware of a church in Canada that is using my story of God’s grace in their services. It’s a church of about 850 people and they’ve been around since the ’50′s. I listened to the last two weeks where Pastor John Visser, first, showed my video and, then the next week, talked about my book.
Not only is it wildly humbling for my story to be so far out there, but for it to be received so thoroughly and then shared. He gets it. I put myself out there, and people are taking it and using it to do exactly what I wanted done with it. They’re offering the hope of grace and letting my most shameful moments be used as a balm of healing for wounded people who feel desperately alone. It’s an amazing gift of grace and a picture of how God can turn absolute destruction, shame, and grief into a beautiful portrait that honors Him and shows His love for all of us.
I was once told, ‘I don’t know how God can redeem this and scrape together what could remain of your life to glorify Him.’ Well, I’m starting to see a picture of that now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see all that God is doing with His painting of me, but what little I can catch a glimpse of sends me straight to His feet in worship.
I’ve typed out what Pastor Visser says because I want you to hear his thoughts on my book and my story. From the author’s keyboard: This man gets it.
In the midst of the ferocity against the message of the Gospel, it’s a relief to know that those of us who are fighting are not fighting alone.
We ended the service last week, you will recall, with what I thought was a very moving testimony by Serena Woods. How she had a very rough upbringing, became a Christian, and then nine years after having been in Christ she failed morally, miserably, and blatantly. And I’ve been reading her book this past week and it’s called ‘Grace Is For Sinners’. And it confirms what my first reaction was when I saw that video. Because when I saw that video, there were three things that stood out. If you haven’t seen it, you can get a dvd of last week’s service, or you can go to our church website, or you can even go to YouTube and search for ‘Serena Woods’ and you will find it.
But when I first saw that video, the first thing that struck me was her comment that after she became a Christian, she put all her past into the farthest reaches of her mind. Do you remember that? And I remember thinking to myself, ‘You’re setting yourself up for failure’ because that is typically what Christians, in many circles, do. ‘I’m a new creation in Christ, the old has gone and I am a new creation.’ And what that is, is a confusion of justification with sanctification.
Justification is an instant process. Sanctification takes time as the Holy Spirit helps us to unfurrow old patterns and behavior. And He helps us to put on new patterns of behavior. You short-circuit that and your past will come to haunt you. Which is why many new believers, a few years down the line, fall away for a season because their inside world has not yet caught up with our outside world. And one of the reasons we emphasize the ministry of healing around here, is to help people become whole to the core of their being.
The second thing that struck me was her deep, deep sorrow for her failure. And when you hear more of her story, you can understand why that was. Because the man that she had the affair with was her best friend’s husband. The affair only lasted three weeks. But when, both, Serena’s husband and this other man’s wife found out about it, they both chose to divorce their spouses. Not only that, but during that three week sexual affair, she got pregnant with his child.
And so now her marriage was broken, they were driven together, eventually married each other, but they alienated every Christian connection that they have had in the past. And the grief was unspeakable.
And the third thing that really struck me was the amazing grace of God. Because as she points out, and this is the back cover text, ‘Our sin doesn’t say anything new about us. Jesus didn’t hang on the cross in case we need him. He hung on the cross because we desperately need Him.’ And part of her mission, and part of her burden, is to try to help God’s people learn how you walk with sinners, not condoning her sin. She never justifies her action or her husband’s action. She has a great deal of grief. But she recognizes that if Jesus didn’t also die for those sins that we commit after we become a Christian, there isn’t any hope for any of us.
When we humble ourselves before God, it is God who will lift us up. -Pastor John Visser; ‘Preparation’; Maranatha Church; Belleville, Ontario
Posted: November 2nd, 2010 |
Filed under:God, life | Tags:grace, personal |
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We all have a story. We have things that we’ve survived. We’ve been the victim and we’ve been the criminal. I can tell you, with intricate detail, about both kinds of pain.
My church asked me to put part of my story on video for a series they’re teaching. I’ve posted it below.
My experience with grace is not found in my ability to move forward after my failure. Though growing is an effect, anyone, who has the will to survive, can move on after personal failure. Your past is always there and healing comes when you can see God in it. Grace, for me, is found in the undeniable knowledge that I can see Jesus clearer now, because of my failure. He’s more than my example, my teacher, or the name uttered at the beginning of my prayers. He’s my ransom. He gave me a gift, an insight. He gave me Himself. And the swirling whisper continues to speak, ‘No one, unbroken by their own sin, can see Me like this.’
God used my failure to show me who He is. His grace relabeled my sin and me. My failure destroyed me, but if not for that death, I would not really live. Grace enables me to be thankful for the hell.
