When does a testimony get too old to be of value? Hopefully, never. In the early 80's I was a young wife and mother with two children and a life in shambles. I had been born and raised in and Adventist home. When I was 3 years old, living on the west coast, my father went to work one day and never came home again. From that time on he was never a part of my life except on the extreme edges. That wasn't my decision, but his. I think, that in the years since then, he has had time to regret that decision. His actions forced my mother to relocate back east to her parents in order to raise my sister and myself. She did her best, but being a single mom in the 50's and 60's was very difficult, especially if you were uneducated as many women were. There was no system in place to force deadbeat fathers to pay up, and mine certainly didn't. Still, mom was able to realize her dream to be a nurse when she became an LPN while I was in my teens. She retired from the field several years ago.

I finished high school, took the same LPN course my mother had taken, and went to work. I worked for about a year then got fired from that job. Looking back 30 years, I know that it was providential. I had done nothing to deserve losing my job for, though I was told it was for insubordination. The same nursing director who fired me then gave me a good recommendation that gave me a job at Madison Hospital. Poor mom. In a two week period that summer she watched her oldest daughter pack and move to Tennessee and her other daughter head for Vienna, Austria to study music. I guess it is little wonder that she applied for and took a job at Madison a few months later. But I wasn't very happy at the time when she moved in with me. I was just learning to be on my own.

The next summer, I left for Wildwood where I spent two years. When I left there it was with both good and bad memories. Needless to say, no institution is without problems. At my young age, I guess I was looking for perfection and was greatly disappointed when I didn't find it. However my time there would have a major impact on the rest of my life. That is where I met Ed. No such thing as dating was allowed there which wouldn't have done me much good anyway. Ed never had the foggiest notion that I was interested in him until someone put a bug in his ear a few months after we had left and gone in separate directions. Ed still likes to tell people how he told people that he would NEVER
1) marry a redhead
2) live in Tennessee
3) live in Alabama.

He never says never anymore, since he did all three. I had returned to Tennessee when I left Wildwood and that is where Ed came calling some months later. This past July we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary.

---------------Part one---------------

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Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

I should had done mine in parts and made it a whole lot longer.

I still didn't tell you how I became a Christian which I could do in parts also.

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In His Love, Mercy & Grace

Daryl Fawcett :)

Anticipatory writing is highly overrated.
Although it may instill patience in the reader, it does tend to agrivate those of us that are impatient to the max

So, let the agravation begin.

There have been a lot of ups and downs in the past quarter century. We became the parents of a son, then a daughter. (Our daughter's name is Suzanne, so it threw me a little when I first saw Suzanne Sutton on this forum.) We moved numerous times, finally settling in Alabama for several years. Both of us went to college, though at different times. As anyone who has ever done it can testify, raising a family and going to college is demanding on marriage, finances, and family. It was while Ed was in college that our lives nosedived. The problems mounted and I sank into a depression. I began to view God as someone way up there and I was way down here and if He cared so much why was my life such a mess?! My solution was to walk away from what the church. I wanted to be free of restrictions that seemed to hang over me like a boulder just waiting to drop on my head. There didn't seem to be one person, at least in the church who cared what was happening to me or my family, or who offered viable solutions to our problems.

We had started our son in the local church school, but he was not doing well. I can still remember the day he came home from school, pounding his fist on his head, saying, "I'm stupid, I'm stupid. I'm going to kill myself." He was only 8 and in the second grade. Two terrified parents headed for the local mental health clinic to find a counselor. It turned out that he was being made fun of at school by his classmates (many the children of the church board members that I would soon face) because he was having trouble learning. I went to the principal begging him to get my son tested (it could have been done through the public school system), but, I realize now that he was as burned out on teaching as I was on nursing, and he wouldn't do anything. My son was enrolled in the local public school the next year who promptly tested him, found him dyslexic, and put him in the appropriate classes. He made excellent progress, but the damage was done. He never again liked school, and quit at 16. He did find out quickly that he couldn't get anywhere without a HS diploma and got his GED, then went on to diesel mechanics schooling.

My husband had gone to our church and asked for some financial help because we were in such a tight bind. In order to receive any help we were required to submit to questioning by the church board, a board made up of the proverbial doctors, lawyers, merchants, and chiefs, most of whom I was at least familiar with, having worked with some of them. I have never completely forgotten that ordeal. I felt that I was raked over the coals by that board. They wanted to know why I didn't go back to school and become an RN. By then I was burned out and sick of nursing and wanted to do something else, yet they seemed to infer that something was wrong with me for not wanting to become an RN. That appearance before that church board was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I went to church one more time, then I quit. I hold no grudges against those men (it was mostly men). I think they were so far removed from our particular plight they couldn't understand that discussing whether or not I became an RN was the farthest thing from my mind and worries. I had far more pressing concerns.

There were a few small efforts to draw us back by a couple of families, but I guess it was too little too late. They soon gave up. There is a lesson to be drawn from this. We don't always know just what someone else is going through, especially mentally and emotionally. We give up too easily if we don't see progress quickly to our efforts. We assume that they just don't want our help and we leave them alone. When someone is way down, and they feel like everything and everyone is against them, it takes more than an invitation for dinner and a coupon for a free portrait to show them the love of Jesus. No one ever came and asked me about my spiritual condition. Now one ever tried to point us to the One who can heal all our diseases, sooth all our sorrows, cleanse all our wounds, and forgive all our sins. I needed to know that God was still hearing and answering, because I felt that He was so far away from me. I would have probably repulsed initial overtures of spiritual help at that point, but would have responded eventually. However those overtures never came. Brothers and sisters, that is why we cannot give up when we see people who are slipping away from the church. That is why we must have patience. Most of those who leave the Adventist church do not leave for theological reasons, but because they are hurting from one or more of a multitude of causes. We must show them God's love and point them to the only solution to their problems.

-----------------part two-----------------

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________________________
Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

Too sad, too true.
It's difficult in this society today, we are afraid that the overture might be misconstrued, so, we don't take the chance.

So, many slip through the cracks and disappear.

There are many that sit in the pews every sabbath with a smile pasted on their faces, and inside, they are weeping with anguish.

We need to pray for discernment, ask God to open our eyes and hearts to the hurting ones in our midst.

I await, with bated breath, your next installment.
Remember, patience is NOT one of my virtues.

Come to think of it, I don't think I have any virtues. I'll have to check and get back to you.

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What is popular is not always right.
What is right is not always popular.
Gerry B.

"To me belongeth vengeance, and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste" Deuteronomy 32:35. God says that vengeance belongs to Him. He will take care of the wrongs that are done to us.

A few decades ago when I was in junior high school, I had a classmate whose mother happened to be my algebra teacher. Math was never my best subject, and I struggled with algebra. It didn't help that illness and surgery had forced me to miss several weeks right at the beginning of school.

Apparently the teacher went home and talked about me in front of her daughter because she would come to school and torment me, saying things about me that she couldn't have known unless she heard them at home. Those things hurt, but I didn't do anything. I was of the nature that I could easily be cowed. I thought of all the things I'd like to say, but I never said them. It can be very difficult for a young person to be teased and made fun of, but I learned early that it wasn't up to me to seek revenge. Yet I got my revenge, and I never lifted a finger, never said a word. In fact, you might say that my former tormentor brought it on herself.

A couple of years passed by and it was awards day at high school. Student after student was being called to the stage to received recognition for their achievements. One of those called was my classmate. This was the late sixties, and the baby boomers will remember that we had some pretty strange fashions then. That year saw a fad come and go quickly, but not before it came to my high school. It consisted of a mini dress, which was what almost everyone wore. But this cute little dress was made even cuter by the matching ruffled bloomers that peeked out beneath the hem of the dress. High school girls came to school looking like overgrown toddlers. You have probably guessed by now that my classmate was wearing just such an outfit on that day. As she made her way onto the stage, I could hear the laughter begin down front, then rapidly move to the back of the auditorium. As she walked across the stage, her face became redder and redder and the laughter got louder and louder. I sat there laughing with them, and yet I felt sorry for her. At last she knew what it was like to be laughed at, to be the object of someone's cruel joke, to be made fun of. My revenge was sweet, because I didn't have to do a thing. And it was tempered with pity that she should have to go through such an embarrassing moment. I doubt she ever wore that outfit again.

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________________________
Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

[This message has been edited by Linda Sutton (edited September 21, 2000).]

I was a young wife and in a few months I would become a first time mother. I had driven to the academy where campmeeting was in progress to attend the evening meeting. Ed was working. At the close of the meeting, I left and began the hour long drive back to my home. The two-lane road wound up and down and around the hills of central Tennessee. Traveling alone, I came up behind a vehicle moving slowly down the hill, and decided to pass. I tried to be a careful driver, but I don't necessarily like passing on a two lane road. Since it was night, I could see oncoming lights, so I looked well to see if there were any oncoming headlights and if the road ahead was clear. I had a broken line on my side, the road was clear as far as I could see, so I pulled out to go around the slower vehicle. Just as I came alongside the other driver, I saw, to my horror, that another car was coming, and there was no way I would have time to pull back in. A head-on collision seemed inevitiable. I have never been sure if I ask for help out loud, or just cried out silently, but I did most certainly ask for help. One moment I was facing a head on collision, the next instant, I found herself back in my own lane. I checked my mirrors, but there were no headlights in my mirror nor any back lights. I seemed to be alone on the road. With a thankful heart I drove the rest of the way home without incident. God had worked a miracle that saved not one, but two lives that night, myself and my unborn son. He'll be 24 next Monday. I believe that God saved his life for a purpose. I just keep praying that he will totally surrender to Jesus.
________________________
Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

[This message has been edited by Linda Sutton (edited September 21, 2000).]

God saves us at every turn.
Sometimes we recognize it, due to miraculous events as you have just described, but at other times we may not see it.

How many times have we been stayed against our will, only to find that if we had left when we planned, we would have been involved in somethiung less than convenient.

How many times has He stopped the drunk or recless driver before we got there?

These episodes as you have described help to see His love and protection to us.
Thank you.

Linda, that is a very powerful testimony. I am crying for the pain you and your family have gone through, and yet praising God that He has brought you through and holds you close. Thank you for sharing.

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Sarah Moss
*Prayer Changes Things!*

For the next six years we were out of the church. We were gone, we didn't darken the doors. We moved twice, living in two different states, yet we were not contacted even once, nor were our names removed from the church books. Religious things were not part of our everyday conversation, but the strange thing was, we kept to the law of clean and unclean foods, we rejected alcohol, but breaking the Sabbath was no problem. We did it every week. If people asked me about a religious affiliation, I would say I had none. I would get upset with Ed if he told people we were Adventist, and assure those asking that we no longer practiced it. I couldn't claim to be something that I was not doing. God didn't forget about us, though we forgot about Him. I had taken our SOP library and our Bibles and packed them in boxes. My reasoning: if I ever came back to the church, I knew that we couldn't afford to replace all those books. So for six years we carted then around and stored them wherever we moved.

Things reached a climax between Ed and myself and we separated. I went to live with my mother and took the kids. But I made sure that he talked to them frequently and saw them every other weekend. Even if my marriage was not working, I didn't want my kids to be cut off from their father as I was. We stayed separated for six months, then decided that we would rather try to work things out. We got back together which made the kids glad. We went back to marriage counseling (for the umpteenth time) which helped some. I had also seen doctors for problems I was having and was given prescriptions for antidepressants.

I had a terrible experience with one of them. It was about the time that I was finishing the prescription for Prozac that something frightening began to happen to me. I started having terrible thoughts of doing away with my family. It was like there were two voices in my head, one telling me to do the terrible deed, and another voice telling me that was not what I wanted to do, that it was irrational. It was so bad, that my son picked up an ax one day to defend himself because he thought I was coming after him. He was just 12 at the time. That scared me. Those episodes finally faded away. I did not know at the time what had brought them on. It was nearly two years later while watching an episode of Nightline about Prozac that I found out what had caused those terrifying weeks for my family and me. Today I warn people about Prozac, telling them not to take it. It is a dangerous drug. It may not affect everyone the way it affected me, but why take such a chance? Later I would come to realize that it must have opened a door into my mind that allowed Satan a wider entrance than he normally has, and he was putting those horrifying thoughts into my mind. But even then, God did not forget me, and He sent an angel to counteract the work of the devil. Today I am grateful that while I forgot God, He never forgot me and even cared for me when I didn't ask Him to. Surely, there is no one who understands like Jesus. He has indeed been touched with the feeling of our infirmities.

We had hoped to move to Florida and had been job hunting there, but nothing came of the interviews that Ed went on. The only thing that opened up was a job in Mobile, AL so that is where we moved to. We moved into a house about 6 miles from the ocean in a suburb of Mobile. It was there that my children, the oldest a teen, began asking questions. Questions that required Bible answers. I went to those boxes that we had been moving with us for six years and dug out my Bible. The covers were green with mold. After cleaning the Bible, I opened it for the first time in all those years and answered their questions. But I still had no desire to return to church. Other things would soon be working our hearts and minds, though.

It was 1990 and there were rumblings in the Middle East. Kuwait had been invaded by Iraq and President Bush was talking about a "new world order." My ears perked up and my mind began to go back to the prophecies that I had learned all those years that I was growing up. Things were clicking and there must have been a lot of angels whispering in my ear as well as the Holy Spirit. The more I read, the more disturbed I became. One afternoon, while Ed and I were eating in a local fast food restaurant, we discussed what was happening. I was choking back tears as I told him that I believed that I was the beginning of the final events for this world. I still believe that. Nothing like this drawing together of the nations had ever happened before in history, not even in the world wars. More than that, I knew that I was not ready for Jesus to come, and I realized that I didn't really want to burn in the lake of fire. I didn't really know what Ed felt, but I knew what was going on in my mind. God was about to speak to me in a way that I would not be able to mistake.

------------------Part Three-----------------

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Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

[This message has been edited by Linda Sutton (edited November 25, 2000).]

It was a school day. I got up and got the kids off to school, watching to make sure that Suzanne had gotten on the bus. She had been walking home from school until the day she came home and said that a car had followed her. I called up a local bus service that transported kids to school for a fee and sent her to school in safety.

As usual, I went back to bed, since I tended to be a late night person. Ed had been off the night before and was still in bed. I lay back down and was soon asleep. I began to dream. I found myself in a large house. In my dream I knew that it was my house. In the middle of the house was an office full of people working with all the usual office machines and equipment. There was a heavy set man in a pinstripe three piece suit with a gold watch chain who seemed to be the boss. As I looked at him I knew that he was a demon, an evil angel. I saw an old woman in a frilly pink dress, heavy shoes and a blond wig with a scowl on her face pushing a mail cart used for interoffice mail. I knew as I looked at her that it was Satan himself. They were running an office in my house. I told them to leave, but they only laughed at me. I couldn't understand why they wouldn't leave even when I told them to go in Jesus' name.

I found myself in a living room and there was a knock at the front door. When I opened it, two tall man stood there dressed in a light brown, windowpane plaid suits. Then came in, but they were so tall they had to duck their heads to come in the door. I didn't see much of the second man, but the first man had brown hair that just touched his collar, an average looking man. He asked me if I needed help and I told him yes. Indicating the office, I told him they wouldn't leave even when I told them to. He took off his suit coat and handed it to me and I put it over my arm. He then went around the corner into the office.

I found myself at the door of the office with the man standing just inside the door of the office with his arms outstretched and his hands facing them. He turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at me with the kindest look I have ever seen. I knew that it was Jesus. No one has ever looked at me with such love and understanding. Next he was showing me his hand. My dream ended and I awoke. I began telling my husband what had happened, but I couldn't finish without sobbing. Jesus cared that much for me, so much that He made a special effort to let me know in a dream. What had I ever done to deserve such attention from Him? For the first time in years I knew that He really did care what happened to me. He had been watching out for me and for my family. Writing this story even ten years later still brings tears to my eyes. I will never understand that kind of love, but I want it to be a part of my life.

After telling Ed, I called my mother, who had been praying for years for us, and told her. God had turned us around, put us on the narrow path and we were on our way home to Abraham's farm. God had turned us around. What wondrous love, that Jesus took time to reveal Himself in such a manner to one of His wayward children. I didn't deserve it, but He came and took what I deserve that I might receive what He deserves. So much would happen in the next few weeks. Satan doesn't like to loose his prey, and I had been much more his prey than I had thought I was. But God is omnipotent, and He wasn't about to let Satan win.

----------------Part four-----------------

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________________________
Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

A few days after my dream, I had to have (same day) surgery which left me fairly sore. I had already pulled my boxes of SOP books out and began cleaning them up. I began studying in earnest. But things weren't peaceful. At night as I would lay down to sleep, Satan would come to bother me. He would stand at the foot of my bed. One night I heard our front door open and close but it was still locked the next morning. There were bumps and other noises. One night the back door opened and closed. It too was locked. I lay in bed at night and claimed any Bible promise that I could remember. My favorite was Isaiah 41:10. "Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness." I would sing the hymns that I still knew by heart and finally I would get a little sleep.

One night I was exhausted. I knew that I needed some rest. That was the night that the I heard the front door open and close. I could feel the evil presence of Satan as he came down the hall to my room and paused outside the door. "Lord," I prayed, "I really need some rest tonight. Please make him leave me alone." The presence was gone. Another night, God answered my prayer in a striking manner.

If Satan or one of his demons has ever made their presence known to you, you can feel the evil presence. You may not be able to see it, but you know without doubt who it is and just where it is. Night after night Satan had made his presence known, hoping to frighten me into giving up my newfound faith in Jesus Christ, but I wasn't about to give up the sweetest thing that I had ever known. As he tormented me one night I was praying and singing and claiming promises. I remembered that somewhere there was a promise that said something about God would empty heaven of all the angels to save even one person. I couldn't remember exactly what it said but I claimed it anyway and God answered. He opened my spiritual eyesight. God willing, I will never forget what I saw that night. I was in a king-sized waterbed, and as I looked all around the bed I saw tall warriors dressed in tunics standing shoulder to shoulder. They surrounded the bed. They looked like bodybuilders. Their hands were clasped in front of them on the hilt of the sword that stood upright in front of them. Those swords were broad and came up to the middle of the chest. There was one angel warrior who was standing by my head and I sensed that he was my guardian angel. Outside those warriors I glimpsed the demons trying to throw their fiery darts at me, but they couldn't get past the guard that had been set around me. I lay there for awhile marveling at this wonderful manifestation of God's love. I finally got up to study for a couple of hours.

When I went back to bed, I no longer saw the warriors, but my guardian angel was there. I could still see him as I pulled the covers up over me that he reached down and pulled them up with me and "tucked me in" as it were. I guess that when God enlightens your vision, it takes awhile for it to fade away. For about 3 days, I was aware of my guardian angel. When I would kneel to pray, he would kneel with me. I never want to forget what God privileged me to see. Why me, I don't know. I have no way to show my gratitude except to remain faithful to Him, and to review frequently how He has led me in my past history and tell my story if it might help someone else.

How little we understand the love that the angels have for us, how they share in our battles and wage war for us against the foe of all souls. We have so little sense of what these majestic beings really are like, how they care for us. I wonder if it thrills them when they are given permission to reveal a glimpse of themselves to a human for whom they have been working? That they can give a glimpse to man of how much they care and carry out the will of their Heavenly Master and Ours must give them joy. A decade has only very faintly affected my memories of those days in January 1991. God used dramatic means to brings this wayward family back into the fold. We started back to church. It was a shock to our children. Our daughter couldn't remember going to church since she had been so young when we quit. Difficulties lay ahead, but I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He is soon coming to take us home. He has trod the way before me, and He will lead me all the way.

Father, help me to never forget what you have done for me. Help me to tell others that You love them as much as You love me. May I keep growing until self is so hidden that when others see me that are seeing Jesus. Thank-you.

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Even so come, Lord Jesus
Linda

Linda

I enjoyed this testimony.

Thankyou for being brave enough to share it.

"And they overcame [the devil] by the blood of the Lamb; and by the Word of their testimony." (Rev.12:11).

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Soul winning is soul loving.
see 1 Thes.5:14-15).

Your brother in Christ

David T. Battler

The rains came down and the floods came up. And up. And up. And our home was in a flood plain. Can you guess what happened?

We moved from Alabama to Ohio in May 1998. For me it was a move to a home I had never seen. Ed and some friends of his had found a manufactured house (better known as a mobile home) in a small park just outside of the town of Cambridge. There was a small creek that meandered behind the park. Right behind our home the ground fell rather sharply away from the house down to the water's edge. There the creek was only about one and a half to two feet wide.

The weather became rainy and stormy in mid to late June with ferocious thunder storms. The water came down in buckets. The little creek would rise and fall with the rainfall. I would look at that little creek and wonder. But I never ask anyone any questions. In retrospect, I wish I had. June 27, Sabbath, it was raining yet again. We went to church, then came home and had dinner. In the afternoon, we went to a nearby town with some friends to do some missionary work, then came back to our house. I noticed that the water was still rising and I was a little concerned. The evening wore away and became night. We, along with our friends retired about midnight. I looked out back and could see that the water was still high and getting higher. I remember praying that if the Lord willed, it would not rise higher.

I went to sleep. At 2:00 I suddenly bolted wide awake as though something had awakened me. I went to the window and looked out back. The edge of the water was now even with the back of the homes underpinning. I then went to the front and looked out. I could see cars pulling away from homes at the other end and the manager/owners throwing things into the back of a pickup truck. I thought it strange that no one was coming around warning the other residents of what was now obvious to me. We were going to be flooded. I awoke everyone else and told them what was happening.

It's had to describe the feelings that go through your mind when you see a disaster coming and you need to get out, but you can't really think logically like you need to because there is an urgency to flee. We knew we needed to get the animals– we had a cat and a dog. Ed and our friend Ken pulled books out of the lower shelves of the book cases and piled them in upholstered chairs and the sofa. I remember looking at the books and thinking that they would get wet because the sofa and chair would wick the water. But I didn't say anything. I really don't know why, except that there were so many things I was having to contend with at the moment. We finally hustled everyone plus the animals into the car and drove away. The water was into the yard and beginning to rise in the driveway. It was early Sunday morning.

Our friends lived up on a high hill on the other side of town and that's where we went. It would be Wednesday afternoon before we would be able to get back to our home. Before we left, Ed and Ken had gone around banging on some of the other homes in the park to alert the inhabitants of the rising water. Many they could not arouse. At least one thought there was no problem. I was troubled by the fact that the lady next door to us had only lived there three weeks and had gone on vacation. We didn't know how to reach her. We would learn later that the owners never alerted the people until 5 AM and then they had to carry many of them out through the high water. That would lead to some problems later with some folks talking of possibly filing some lawsuits, something we decided to stay out of.

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For I know that my redeemer liveth,
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.
_________________________

Linda

Sunday morning we were able to drive down into town and tried to go home but we were stopped by the civil defense and told that the water was five feet deep and we couldn't go back until it went down. We also learned that it was a flash flood that had come through. He was also the one who told us how they had to carry some of the residents out early that morning. We turned around and drove back up on the hill. The water continued to rise and by Sunday evening we could no longer get into town because of flooding. For the next three days we sat and waited for the waters to recede. Finally on Wednesday afternoon, a neighbor took his pickup out, drove out the reservoir road, through a ditch, up the bank, onto the now closed interstate highway (parts of which were underwater), and finally into town and down to our place. When we arrived, we could see the water line on the side of the home. Everything was topsy turvy. The front steps were about three homes down. Our garbage can was down by the road and the wheels were forever gone as were our gasoline cans. We found our flower boxes and pots in various locations. Surprisingly, most of the plants survived. The dog house was gone and most of the underpinning of the home.

One thing that would be hard for us to deal with in the next couple of weeks would be the pushiness and sometimes nastiness of the owners of the park and the home. They were too anxious for us to clean out the mess so they could come in and get it ready to rent again. I remember looking at the mold growing on the paneling and thinking there was no way I would want to live there anymore. Illness hit us all, but especially Ed and Suzanne. She was sick enough that we took her to the ER. Ed had gastrointestinal problems so severe I had to get Pedialyte (electrolyte solution) to keep him from becoming dehydrated. We have always assumed that it was a result of spending so much time in that soaked home, growing mold and who knows what else, cleaning up the mess.

But back to what we found when we opened the door, which didn't open easily. Water had risen about 3 feet high inside. That was a blessing. Yes, it really was. Everything above that level had been left untouched. I still have the pictures I took of the devastation. But there were some fantastic finds also. Sewing and needlecraft is a hobby of mine, and I had a large, clear plastic box that contained my sewing patterns. Apparently it had floated on the water. Every pattern inside was dry. A little plastic sewing chest had two dry drawers and two wet drawers. One of them had apparently floated out of the chest and continued to float. All the furniture was ruined, beds, chairs, tables, sofa. My computer sat on an old metal army desk. The water had risen to about one inch below the top of that desk. Everything on top was dry.

The losses that bothered us most were the books and the photographs. All our wedding pictures were ruined. Many of our books, some irreplaceable, were destroyed. Yet even here were surprising finds. The water had caused some of the shelves to collapse, yet the books had remained on them. Going through the books one by one, I would find a soaked book but next to it would be a book that had wet covers and edges but the pages were dry. I am so glad that I checked them book by book. Otherwise I would have tossed a lot of books that I was able to save. While many pictures were destroyed, yet many of the most recent pictures we could pull apart, let dry, and they were fine or nearly fine.

Another one of those funny things-- all the canisters on one lower cupboard shelf had floated in the water and the contents were fine. As we were cleaning things out, I had to sort what was salvageable from what had to be thrown. Outside along the opposite side of the drive a pile of wet, damaged goods was piling up waiting for removal. I was fascinated by the things people were tossing. Things that could be washed were piled there. Things that could be cleaned with disinfectant had been dumped. I loaded up garbage bags of wet clothes, linens, fabric, anything that could be thrown into a washing machine and hauled it to the laundromat and washed it. I made three trips and each time I filled a whole row (about 10 machines) of triple load washers with wet things and washed and bleached and dried. Almost everything cleaned up and was usable.

An example of "don't give up too easily" if I've ever heard one! I am enjoying reading your story Linda, it is amazing what we can go through and still call ourselves blessed because we are God's.

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Sarah Moss
*Prayer Changes Things!*

Thank you Sarah. There is still some more to the story.
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I wouldn't dump my appliances either. I noticed the washers, dryers, and such that had been tossed along with TVs and small appliances. We kept the big ones and the TV. I knew I couldn't afford to replace my washer, dryer and freezer. In fact, the dryer was only 3 month old! We put the appliances in storage along with our other salvaged items until we could settle in a new home. Once we were moved, I cleaned and tried the dryer. It started right up and ran without problems. Nearly three years later, it's still running. The washer didn't fare as well. It wouldn't spin. I eventually had it repaired, and it is still washing clothes. The freezer was the oldest appliance we had and I was afraid that it might be done for. But I got the bleach and soap and cleaned it out. With trepidation, I plugged it in, shut the door and waited to see if it would get cold. It's been keeping food frozen ever since. The man who repaired my washer told me that I had been smart to let the appliances sit for several weeks to dry out completely before attempting to start them up. Circumstances had brought about that situation, but it is advice I now pass on to others. First of all, don't toss them! They may work. Don't try starting your appliances for a few weeks after they have been soaked. Let them dry thoroughly. If they don't work properly, call a repairman before tossing. If it can be repaired, it much more economical than replacing it.

During the time that we were cleaning things out, several groups came around offering help including the Red Cross. We had to fill out papers, have inspections and such, but the Red Cross did provide us with new beds. They also gave us pointers on how to handle things and gave us gloves and cleaners. The Church of Christ in Nashville, TN, gave out boxes of food and cleaning supplies. We were thankful for any and all help that was offered and given. Our local Adventist church was a distribution center for cleaning supplies and they generously gave us buckets, cloths, cleansers, broom, and gloves. Everything we received we had much appreciation for and it was all put to use.

I don't want to forget those who pitched in and helped us clean out that home. Because of the pressure that was being put on us to get it done, along with the illness, we under a lot of stress. I finally asked for help. One day several of the church members came out in their work clothes and in their pick-ups, helped us haul out, clean out the unsalvageable, and put in storage all the keepers. I don't know how we could have finished the job without their help. They even pulled up the wet carpets and padding and hauled it out.

We finally settled in a new home in Zanesville, 30 miles from Cambridge. Everything seemed to be returning to some kind of normalcy, at least for a couple of days. Little did I suspect that the bottom was about to fall out for me. Suzanne was well, and looking for a job and a college; Ed had returned to work; our son, who had come up to help us out for a few days, had returned home. A few days after moving, I had what I would later know was a major panic attack that took me to the emergency room. Since I didn't know what it was, I wondered if I was having a heart attack. The characteristics of a panic attack are similar to the symptoms of a heart attack They did all the test, and ascertained that I wasn't having a heart attack. That was good news. Trouble was, the ER doc didn't have a clue as to what the problem was. Perhaps if he had, I wouldn't have been back in the ER two days later with the same thing. This time, I had added problems. But I also had a doctor who recognized what was happening.

Wow, Linda

Great testimony!

You and Ed need to write a book... with alternating chapters - His Story - Her Story.

And it looks like you are taking lessons from Ed on cliff hangers, huh!

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joy b2u,
Karen
__________________
Look up!! He's coming!!

Ed picked it up from her.
She's good at it.

Well, the last post of this part is coming up. People who have thought I was nuts before will now find a leg to stand on.

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For I know that my redeemer liveth,
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.
_________________________

Linda

I had made the mistake of eating dinner late the evening before then going to bed. In addition to panic/anxiety, I also had developed esophagitis, an unpleasant condition that would require beta 2 blocker antacids for several months. I found out the hard way, I would need to use them. Without them, the discomfort level was high and the ability to eat was very low. Lesson learned: it is never wise to eat late at night, especially if you are going to go to bed quite soon. Your food cannot digest properly.

I was sent home from the ER with medication for both ailments. That would be the last major panic attack that would send me to the ER. I have an aversion of using medicine and I tried to get by without using any of the meds prescribed by the doctor. In addition, when I did use them, I found that I couldn't tolerate the side effects of the beta-2 blocker. I went to see my personal physician, whom I had never seen, and picked sight unseen. I believe it was providential that I picked the one I did, as she quickly had a grasp as to what was going on. She was the one who told me about panic attacks. By then, I wasn't having panic attacks, but had developed anxiety disorder. The best way to describe it is that my body was always in a fight or flight mode. It was as though I was on a constant state of high alert. Tests revealed that even my thyroid had malfunctioned to some degree, but it went back to normal. I was unable to sleep without medication, I couldn't concentrate, I was constantly "nervous" and felt like I was going to fly apart. I had worries that I knew were irrational, but was unable to stop. Some days were better than others and I was calmer. Other days were terrible. The one thing that soothed me was sacred music. Because of the flood, I had to dig to find some audio tapes that I could play in the clock/radio/tape player. The CD stereo had been ruined. I played a tape of Del Delker's over and over that I had recorded from my mother's old LP's. I couldn't tolerate anything like rock music. If a car went down the street with a booming radio, it would set my teeth on edge.

I did my best to cope and began cleaning up muddy items that could be used again. I spent a lot of hours outside with cleaners, scrubbers, rubber gloves, bleach, and the water hose washing muddy items. I tried sewing, but it was more difficult. I couldn't concentrate well enough to read for more than a minute or two. My doctor was trying to convince me that I really needed medication but I resisted for several weeks. Finally I reached a point where I knew if I was going to become a normal person again, I would have to take something, so I finally relented. It took several more weeks for the medication to finally bring things back to normal, but oh, what a relief. To finally be able to sit down and sit, peacefully, quietly, for awhile, to be able to read and comprehend, to not feel like I needed to jump up and run, to not have feelings of fear and panic and worry constantly with me, to be able to lie down in a bed and sleep was joy. I had been sleeping for weeks in a recliner, when I could actually sleep. My body was wearing out from being in the constant state of alert. I could finally rest normally.

Working with my doctor, I remained on the medication for 16 months, and finally came off it more than a year ago. Since them, I have used the herb St. John's Wort with good results. During this time, I would realize that the incidents that had been occurring occasionally during the night for several years that I had referred to as panic attacks really were nocturnal panic attacks. It has taken me a long time to reach a point where I am willing to talk about being affected with a disorder that I don't want, don't enjoy, but have learned to cope with. I disliked not being able to gain control of the situation and had to resort to medication to bring it under control. I have long believed what Sister White wrote: "Drugs never cure disease." Panic disorder is considered to be part psychological in nature, and part chemical imbalance in the brain. The medication didn't cure my panic/anxiety disorder, but it brought things under control, allowing me to become normal again. Most of all, I believe that God used it to teach me some new things about myself, to draw me closer. I spent time walking and talking to God. He is the One who got me through those dark days.

P.S. As I was preparing to post this, I remebered something someone said right after the flood. I went through a few days when I was rather distraught by the thoughts of what kind of damage I would find when we finally got home. Then I got philosophical. I figured if it was gone, it was gone and no amount of crying would bring anything back. No, it wasn't easy loosing all my wedding pictures, but no flood could wash my memories away. They were still intact. What the person said was something about my keeping my sense of humor even with what we had gone through. Laughing is sometimes better than crying.

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For I know that my redeemer liveth,
and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth.
_________________________

Linda

[This message has been edited by Linda Sutton (edited March 16, 2001).]

Thank you for your testimony Linda. It was a real blessing. I have had alot of the anxiety problems you have had and it is hard to resolve the conflict with Mrs.White's writings. But I've found that the quality of my life and that of my family members is increasing dramatically since I decided to take the meds. Also, I just had my wisdom teeth pulled finally, because I was avoiding any unnecessary surgery. It turns out the roots were growing into my sinuses and wreaking havoc. Sometimes we just have to do these things. Other family members suffer too much if we don't. Thanks again and God bless!

Wendy