Tag Archives: Prayer


Is it any wonder I don’t want to leave? Who could possibly be depressed when they look out their back door and see this? I keep praying for some miracle that allows me to stay.
As much as I say God has a plan and I can accept whatever happens the thought of leaving here breaks my heart.
I came here with a broken soul and spirit, unhealthy physically & mentally. I spent the last year healing; from all JC did, losing my little buddy, Laila, myself.
One year exactly after coming here I feel almost complete. I wandered around in a daze most of last year, I didn’t care about the people around me. I just wanted peace, serenity and time. Time away from stress, pain and conflict. JC had other plans for me. The sign of a truly sick individual. When they have found “the love of their life” and are “living their life free to be themselves and be happy”, yet still feel the need to destroy their ex’s possibility of having some peace in their life.
That is sick, evil, beyond selfish and such a sure indication that they are disordered; and to further prove how sick they are; they feel justified in doing it.
For one thing a healthy person would not try to destroy their ex’s future happiness no matter what they did and for another thing; if they did and are a changed person (like they profess to be) they would admit to it and apologize for it.
Proof that they never change no matter what they loudly profess.
Anyway, after a year here I find I have stopped wishing I could be my old self again and realized I am, only a little more cautious and a lot more appreciative.
Yesterday I went for a walk and people I hardly noticed last year are calling out “nice day”, “stop by for a drink”, “love your dog”. I stood on the street talking to 2 neighbor ladies for almost an hour. I loaned a hand rake to the fellow who lives across the street. Talked to a couple with a dog. Chatted with my neighbor Terry and the guy doing work on a place two does down and they both played with Stella. I worked in the yard, sprayed the neighbor’s yappy dogs with the garden hose (that my neighbor Terry installed for me for free. He put an outside faucet in for me and gave me the hose)
Neighbors doing nice things for each other, ages 30 to 86.
I built a fire and watched the sunset. I felt a little lonely, I actually went into a dating site for people over 50 and saw some men I wouldn’t mind meeting. I have been in dating sites before but never even had the slightest desire to meet any of the men and yesterday there were at least a dozen. Not ready to do anything about it yet but the thought of it doesn’t make me nauseous. Haha
God, I pray you find a way for me to stay. Amen

There is life and light after the narcissist, I promise! Hugs Carrie


I’ve been talking about answered prayers lately and tiny miracles that happen every day and some bigger miracles I have witnessed, but what about when God doesn’t answer your prayers or not the way you wanted him to answer?

Getting baptized in English Bay Vancouver BC with my son by my side

Getting baptized in English Bay Vancouver BC with my son by my side

My faith continued to grow stronger, JC went through phases, he would be one way with one person and a totally different person with someone else. Throughout the 10 years JC and I were together it seemed God would put special people into our lives, we had miracles happening all around us and his adoptive mother always said God had a special plan for JC. After we moved to Mission and  JC started driving gravel truck he came home late one night all excited about meeting a pastor from close to where he had grown up. He was going on and on about how we would join the church, some thing he had promised many times. I started attending the church, I coaxed JC into going once and the pastor had cried to see JC walk in with me. Mind you he had cried any time he saw me walk through the door without JC. He told me that he knew he was sent to Mission to save JC and he felt he had failed. The pastor, Pastor Jim, had a race car that he raced at the Mission Raceway Park where JC was the burn out box director, the church had a band and needed guitar players and JC played the guitar. If there was ever a pastor who could get through to JC it would have been Pastor Jim. He did talk JC into going to couples group counseling that he and his wife were teaching and we went one time and JC refused to go again even though we had a really good time.

Pastor Jim told me one day that he had gotten the assignment to start a new church in Mission, a “new age” type church and they had moved to Mission the same month we did. When he hit town he looked for an office and found one on James Street. He said he knew that starting a church was not the full assignment and he was being sent to save one person, he just didn’t know who. But as soon as he met JC he knew. His wife Janet told me that every Sunday Pastor Jim would stare at the door hoping for JC to walk in and if he saw me his hopes would be lifted and if JC didn’t walk in he would cry. JC spent a lot of time with Pastor Jim because they had the common interest in cars and he would sell Pastor Jim parts etc and they would talk about God and JC would promise to go to church and then not show. I never talked to anyone about the abuse with JC, not my friends or family, Pastor Jim and his wife Janet were the only ones I told, after I had left JC because I wanted them to know and maybe help him. (yes that is not a typo, I was worried about JC and that he might kill another woman some day and yes I did go back to him after that)

I used to pray all the time for a sign from God as to whether I should stay or leave, JC would act like I was a one-night-stand that didn’t know when to leave and I felt so unwelcome. Just when I had enough and was ready to walk out the door something would happen and I would stay. JC would have a weak moment and cry and say how much he loved me, or he would injure himself and I would care for him, or some times he would be in trouble and I would bail him out or stick by him and he would be so grateful and he always promised he was going to turn over a new leaf and things would be different, but they never were.

There was one consistency throughout the 10 years, God always came through for me, my faith grew stronger, I grew stronger. I had my truck and was doing scrap metal, had my own place to live and my life was moving forward. I felt JC was holding me back and that I would never find happiness with him because every time I was with him there was so much drama and trauma. I was sick of JC’s antics, sick of him pissing people off, sick of having to move because of him, sick of him showing up at my door and crashing on my couch, sick of his personal ads, I had had enough.

That is when he decided he was going to volunteer to go to Africa, I wasn’t sure why he was doing it and kinda half expected he would never really go. I thought he was doing it because he knew I truly had had enough and he had to do something drastic to prove he was a changed man. Of course his adoptive mother was thrilled because she was always disappointed he didn’t live a more Christian life.

As the time for him to leave for Africa drew closer I softened, between talking to his mother who was so thrilled about what he was doing and it really appeared he was leaving because he sent his tools etc ahead; I thought I would see how things went in Africa and if he followed through it would be the most unselfish thing he had ever done and I would support him until it all played out.

While he was in Africa no contact was easy of course and it made being away from him so much easier, I thought of him but of course I didn’t know what he was doing while he was there. His mother would call and say she had heard from him and he told her to tell me he sent his love and missed me.

I wrote all about Africa and his return here http://wp.me/p1wKh3-rd

My mom and step dad called and said they would like to help me get a mobile home as part of my inheritance. I moved in July and wouldn’t let JC even stay the night, I knew my folks would flip if I did. In September he got a job in Red Deer and left, it was over between us.

It was 2008, scrap prices were the highest in history,  then the economy tanked in fall and prices dropped from $350 a ton to $80 a ton almost overnight. Every morning I prayed to make a certain amount of money and every day I got it. I would pray for a TV and I would either be given one or find one on the street somewhere. I started flirting back with a handsome young guy who had flirted with me for a couple of years and I had been committed to JC and not responded. I even went on a date.
I was making my payments to my folks and then in October my step-dad panicked and said we had to sell the trailer and he thought I should get a “real job”. Every morning I got a call for either my mom or my step dad badgering me to get a real job or go on welfare. It didn’t even make sense, I was able to make my payments hauling scrap; there was no way I could make my payments if I was on welfare and there was a 6 week waiting period for benefits and there were no jobs, unemployment was the highest it had been in decades. They suggested I get a job at the local gas station, like I could just go get a job when I wanted but I would have made minimum wage and could get laid off at the drop of a hat. I was going crazy!! so stressed I could not believe my parents were doing this. At least with scrap I could work 7 days a week and I was making my payments. They said that if they got a good price for it they would pay for my movers. Gee thanks, you can get them to move my stuff under the nearest overpass.

Dec 1 2008 I was featured on the cover of the financial section of The Province Newspaper for being a woman self-employed hauling scrap metal. The calls started coming in for work so fast there were days I did nothing but answer the phone.

JC started emailing me saying he was doing well, making good money etc and I didn’t respond to the first few and then on a particularly sad day I responded with a friendly reply. His next email was more loving.

I cooked Christmas dinner that year at my place and had my whole family and friends for dinner. While we were having dinner my mother mentions that her and my step dad are going on a cruise to Mexico for 8 weeks mid January. I said, “You are going to Mexico for 8 weeks? I didn’t know that” She looked rather sheepish, realizing what I must be thinking she said, “Well yes but it is a prior commitment.”

I didn’t say anything but I was thinking, “And what am I if not a prior commitment?”

I was heading out the door for work one morning and my land line was ringing; I decided not to take the call because I figured it was my mom or step-dad again and I just could not take it any more. But I heard the answering machine click on and I heard JC’s voice. I stopped dead in my tracks and then just before he hung up I ran and grabbed the phone.

We had a pleasant conversation and I told myself it meant nothing and went on with my day. I called him to ask him a question about scrap (just an excuse to talk to him again) we called back and forth for a couple of weeks, he got a transport truck and was getting back into trucking.  He had laid the groundwork and then came the call, he was crying, he had been given 6 months to live could he come out to BC and talk to me.

I have written about what happened next a few times so won’t now, you can read about it here http://wp.me/p1wKh3-rd

I of course was praying daily and God came through with a the job of a life time. While my folks were away I got a call from a man I had met through Pastor Jim, he had an excavating company and sold it; he needed all the scrap in his yard cleaned up in 4 days. It was so much I had to get other scrap haulers to come and get some of it, I made 2 trips a day for the 4 days and that month I made $7500. I was able to get caught up on all my bills, buy a new laptop and had the money in the bank for my payment to my folks when they got back from their trip. I thought for sure if they got back and I had managed to make my payments they wouldn’t make me sell. But my mom sent an email from the ship saying it was imperative I find a place to move before they got home.

I held off telling him about my folks selling my trailer because I didn’t want him to think I was needy but after two months of seeing each other and things going well I told him.

In the meantime I prayed for God to some how make it possible for me to buy a house. A small house and/or a fixer upper was fine. I prayed for a small yard big enough for a small flower garden, where I could have Kato. On water of some sort would be preferable and most importantly I said he would have to be really creative because I had no money and a lousy credit rating. I told JC about my prayer just in passing and let it go.

My folks sold the trailer at a $20,000 loss and I had two weeks to move. I had no idea where I was going to go. JC called from Alberta, he started the conversation with, “I don’t know why I am telling you this” and proceeded to tell me that he had been talking to a guy who had a house for sale in a place called Blaine Lake Saskatchewan and he only wanted $5000 for it and was willing to carry the mortgage for $200 a month. I immediately thought it was the answer to my prayers, I didn’t want to go to Sask but I hadn’t specified where I wanted the house to be and if God wanted me to go to Sask I would go to Sask. JC called to say he had been hired by a trucking company based in Sask and asked me to marry him.

I talked to my son about it and he said to go for it and I wasn’t even talking to my mom any more. My mom and step-dad were telling everyone that they were selling the trailer because I went back to JC, which was not the truth. The truth was that when they reneged on the trailer deal I thought, “all bets are off” and thought what the hell, I might as well give it a try and thought maybe it was God’s plan all along. Give JC and I time apart to figure out how much we really love and need each other. I put my faith in my parents and they bailed on me and left me worse off than I would have been if they hadn’t “helped” me, maybe it was all a sign JC and I were meant to be together.

I called the guy with the house and he seemed like a nice guy, he told me the place was completely furnished, had a fenced yard, and a small garden, it had been his mom’s house and she had died 6 years ago and the house had been empty ever since. He said he was sick of mowing the grass every week and decided to sell. I asked if he wanted me to send him some money and he said no just give him a call when I was heading out so he could go and air the place out before I got there. I told him I was giving away all my stuff except what I could fit on my truck. I talked to him about 5 days before I was heading out and everything was a go. He said to call when I was leaving, I could come by his house for supper and he would take me over to the house, as far as I knew I was driving by myself. I had told most of my customers I was leaving and to find someone else to haul their scrap but I had kept my biggest customers thinking I would come back every few weeks to haul their scrap because I made such good money it would be worth it and I didn’t want to let everything I had built up all at once,  Something (God) told me not to say anything yet.

I had worked every minute I could trying to make some money because I wouldn’t be working at first out there. Although JC had all these ideas of things I could do for work out there. JC had been short of money when he started trucking and I sent him money several times and he promised to pay me back when I got there,.

My truck broke down two days before I had to be out of the house and it was in the shop until moving day, and cost over $1000 to fix. I called the Realtor and told him there was nothing I could do about moving, I didn’t have enough money to get movers. JC called that day and I broke down, it was hot, I was exhausted, and he said, “don’t worry Babe, I’ll park the truck and hop on a plane and be there by tonight and I’ll help you move.” I couldn’t believe how sweet he was being, I was so relieved, he had never helped with a move I had always moved by myself even when we were together, but he took over and told me to rest he would load the truck.  I gave away all the furniture and only kept my keepsakes, clothes, Christmas decorations, a couple of lamps, my TV, radio, I gave away art work, patio furniture, entertainment unit, full dining suite, almost new couch and love seat, two fully furnished bedroom sets bistro table, so much stuff I just gave away.

He worked all night, and at 9:30 am the next day we were at the top of the road about to enter the freeway when he pulled the truck over and said, “You’d better call Rod.” I was planning on calling once we were on the road for a bit but I thought oh well I might as well call now.

I heard Ron say, “Hello.”

me- If Carrie, I’m called to say I am on my way.

Rod – Carrie………… I have good news and I have bad news.

me- what is it, what’s the good news?

Rod- I heard your truck was broken down and you don’t have to rush getting out here.

me- Well I got my truck fixed and that’s why I am calling, we are heading out now. What’s the bad news.

Rod- Well……………I guess I should have called you……………….

me- yes??

Rod- I went to the house to air it out and take some mementos out of there and a guy approached me and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I sold the house. In my head I was screaming, “Oh my God what have a done???!!!!”

me- it would have been nice of you to call me before I gave away all my furniture.

I hung up and JC asked me what was wrong. I told him and he said, “Well you might as well take a couple of weeks and ride with me before you come back and figure out what you are going to do.”

I didn’t say it but I thought, “What do you mean a couple of weeks, you asked me to move to Sask and marry you, we’re in this together.”

I was numb, I could not believe it. I wasn’t sure but I swore I saw satisfaction on JC’s face and his whole attitude changed right before my eyes.

He asked if I was coming for a holiday for a couple of weeks and I responded – I guess so, I am homeless now.

We were down the road a few miles when he dug in his pocket and pulled out a slim gold band and tossed it in my direction saying, “I bought this a while back, you might as well have it now.”  The gold washed off in two days to reveal white plastic. When I told him he shrugged and said, “I guess I got sucked in again. I bought it when I was down south.”

Again I won’t bore you with the details

You can read excerpts from my journals here http://wp.me/p1wKh3-h5

After losing the house in Sask I lost my faith in God, how could he do that to me, I had been so sure it was the answer to my prayer. Now JC had me exactly where he wanted me, totally dependent without my family. So much happened that last two years we were together (I really have to write a book) but after I lost the house everything changed back to the way things had been before he went to Red Deer, in fact things were a lot worse and he kept saying, “You always did so well with out me”. After we split he would say that I always did well without him in my life any time I cried. I started to wonder if he was punishing me for being successful without him. I firmly believe that was the case now when I look back and now that I know all the lies he told through that time.

I went through hell after we split because he had made sure my truck wasn’t running, he had worked very hard to destroy my business and it almost destroyed me but somehow I managed to hang on and I am sure that pissed him off to no end. The whole first year and 1/2 was hell, I had no hope, I stopped praying, even if I did pray nothing happened but I think it was because I wasn’t believing when I prayed.

And THEN I called on the cabin at Hatzic; when I walked through the door of this cabin I let out a gasp; THIS was the house I prayed for!! and ever since I have been grateful, apologized to God for doubting him and life has unfolded in miraculous ways. Even finding money that I didn’t know I had from 1996 that made it possible to buy the cabin. The owners of the cabin happened to be the boss who fired JC from the resort and who had written ,me a lovely letter of reference when I moved away. Every step of the way was carefully orchestrated and fell into place; nothing short of a miracle.

I got the job at Ccon which enabled me to get into the cabin, JC called Ccon, lied and got me fired, but the time I worked there gave me enough hours to get disability when I had my 2nd heart attack. Then JC tried to get me kicked out of the park by placing phony complaints about me, twice he has tried to slander me through a blog he starts but every time he ends up closing the blog and there are no negative effects on me whatsoever.

Yes I always did better without JC in my life and even when he is trying to destroy me I do better without him, and I know why; because God intervenes on my behalf.

I know now that JC couldn’t handle it that I was successful without him and didn’t want him back so he lied about dying, he came back knowing my parents would disown me if I went back to him but he hadn’t counted on my parents handing me to him on a silver platter by making me sell the trailer. He must have gotten a real kick out of that. Then he orchestrated the house deal, I have no idea who I was talking to about the house, JC gave me the number to call, he must have been so proud of himself, he managed to strip me of everything in 6 months. There is no doubt in my mind that he came back to bleed me dry and then destroy me. How evil is that?? to waste 4 years of your life trying to destroy someone just because they had the nerve to be successful after you tossed them out.

praying handsWhen my son went into rehab at Union Gospel Mission on Cordova in the downtown east side of Vancouver he joined a church called Coastal Church where he was taken under the congregation’s protective wings. He found himself and God. He was baptized in English Bay one year and I was baptized a year later with him in the ocean right by my side, it was one of the most memorable days of my life.

When he was in the depths of his drug use and crime, he was lost to himself and to me. I had always been able to kiss it better, make the pain go away but this time I was lost and beside myself with fear, grief and helplessness. My family had told me to wash my hands of him and forget I ever had him, and that I had “ruined” him by “loving him too much”; which of course was impossible but i didn’t know how to help him. He would disappear for weeks at a time and I would be calling his friends trying to find him, but I couldn’t get through to him, I knew he was hurting deep inside from his dad not being in his life, being teased at school and I felt I had failed him also. I would go to work but wasn’t able to even think of anything but Kris, I was consumed with worry to the point of not being able to function.

ask believeThen a girl I worked with suggested I try praying. Now, I  had very little exposure to religion prior to meeting JC, aside from my paternal grandmother who tried to give me an introduction to God, no one in my family was a believer. When I met JC and found out he had been raised by very Christian parents I was reminded of my grandma and I soaked up any info I could off of him and his parents. I said I believed in God, and JC and I said Grace and discussed the Bible, but when the girl at work suggested I pray my immediate thought was, “You obviously don’t understand the severity of the situation, this is requires more than a prayer”. I finally was desperate enough to try anything, including prayer. The girl at work helped me come up with a prayer that went something like this.

Please God take care of Kris, let him feel my love in all certainty no matter where he is. Please help him see he is deserving of happiness and love. Please lead him down the right path to people who can help him and show him how special he is and please God keep him safe and healthy. one last thing, please God bring him back to me and let me have another chance at being his mother, if you do I will do better somehow. In your son’s name Amen.

I photocopied it and taped it every where I might have an anxiety attack, my computer at work, the bathroom mirror, the fridge; it became my mantra and eventually…….it helped.

Weeks went by and then Kris showed up at my door dirty, tired and hungry. I washed his clothes, he had a shower and I fed him then he told me how he had gone to Union Gospel Mission in Mission for dinner. At UGM if you want dinner you have to listen to a sermon first and a few nights prior he had heard a man speak and something he said stuck with Kris. He talked to the man and a few days later that he decided to go into rehab. The man was able to get him into rehab in two days, any time I had tried to get him into rehab it had been a 6 week waiting period and by the time the bed was available Kris was gone again. He stayed with me for two days and I drove him to UGM, the man was there to send him off. Kris did awesome, the people at UGM loved him and Coastal Church made him their “poster boy”, Coastal Church has a wealthy congregation and pride themselves on accepting any one into their church, prostitutes, drug addicts, criminals come as you are. Kris blossomed there with men to emulate, and the praise and encouragement he kept wanting to please,  they made him accountable, he took his GED, and was top in Canada, then he did a year of discipleship before he was accepted at Alberta Bible College and went to study Theology. Every time I attended church I was greeted by people telling me what a wonderful son I had. One of the members of the congregation gave him an apartment to live in for a small percentage of what he made in a month. Kris wanted black leather everything and I had thought he was being picky to not just take a used couch I offered him, but he told me that God wants us to ask for what we want and to be specific. He said that he had cut out pictures of the black leather couch he wanted and the tables etc. A woman member of the church, who set up apartments for out-of-town businessmen furnished the apartment with black leather everything out of an apartment she was hired to redecorate; she had no idea that Kris wanted leather. He had tattoos that another member of the church covered with professional tattoos and another member paid to have some others lazered off. A dentist that went to the church fixed his teeth, another paid for his education, he got a brand new top of the line bike from someone else, he traveled doing missionary work in Cambodia. He came into his own, his eyes have always been like a mood ring; grey if he was sad and the bluest blue when he was happy and his eyes were blue. My prayers had been answered. His church family was able to do more for him than I ever could have and they believed in him. He always knew i loved him and believed in him but I was his mother, he needed to hear it from people who didn’t have to love him.

The whole time JC and I were together we had miracles happen over and over, I have written about the house at Hatzic where we both felt the spirit of the daughter who had died, we had amazing people come into our life and it seemed there was always someone trying to save JC. It was a large part of why I stayed with him as long as I did.  I realize now that some of what happened was him manipulating the situation but there were genuine miracles that happened in our lives and times God stepped in that JC totally ignored. I had a very strong feeling God was trying to show him the way and he was fighting it tooth and nail.

My faith became stronger and stronger as time went on, mainly because I didn’t know what to do about JC and my relationship, I would pray for a sign that I should stay or leave; and as I am sure you know, a “sign” many times a sign can be interpreted the way you want to interpret it. One thing for sure, every time we split my prayers would be answered and I always did better when JC was not in my life, yet I would go back. My life would get better, I would get strong again and i would let him back into my life and within a few months my life would be falling apart again.

The first time JC strangled me, we were driving down the road on our way home from picking up a scrap car, he was driving and had badgered me for days about owing him $2000 for repairs on my Prelude, I had paid him back and he had agreed I had paid him even though I didn’t think I owed him and it wasn’t a week later and he was riding me again about owing him money. I was a nervous wreck and crying, he kept harping on me and I grabbed his leg and said I didn’t owe him, didn’t he remember I had paid? and without a word he slammed on the brakes and had his hands around my throat. Instinctively I grabbed his wrists and tried to pull his hands off my throat but he was far too strong. I stopped struggling, I remember thinking that he was going to feel so bad when he realized he had killed me, I wondered what he would tell my son Kris, then my body went limp and everything went black. I came too coughing and gasping for air and he continued the drive home. He went in and got on the computer right away and I tried to talk to him, he was just cold, his eyes icy blue and filled with loathing. I finally went to bed and cried.  I don’t know how much time had passed when I felt a pair of strong hands holding my head, one on each side of my head and I felt a calmness come over me and a feeling that everything was going to be ok. I opened my eyes expecting to see JC but there was no one there, I got up and went to him and asked if he had just been in the bedroom holding my head and he looked at me like I was crazy.

prayer answer noEvery time we split I left with nothing but my clothes. One time I went to live with my brother who had promised me work but then it didn’t pan out. I needed to make money and all I could think of was all the stuff I had painted over the previous couple of years. I had never tried to sell any of my art pieces and I was scared to death to approach shop owners about buying it but I was flat broke. I had enough money to get to Fort Langley, a tourist town that has antique and boutique shops lining the streets. When I got there I prayed that I would make $40, enough for gas to get home and some groceries.

I got there about 3 and went into almost every shop, losing my courage every time and walking out without approaching any one. I had given up and was heading out-of-town but I kept telling myself, “you won’t make it home without buying more gas.” I drove past the last antique shop on the edge of town and saw a woman hauling furniture back into her shop. It had been a sunny day and she must have had her wares on display outside and was now, at 4:50 packing it up for the day. I drove about a block and turned around. As I parked she looked up from what she was doing, she didn’t look happy to see a customer that late in the day and I thought to myself, “She’ll be even more unhappy when she finds out I want to sell her something.” I approached as I felt my cheeks getting hot. I told asked her if she would be willing to look at some of my art pieces and she said sure. Long story short she bought $40 worth and told me she was going on a month’s vacation but when she got back she wanted to see more of my stuff. I thanked her and went on my way.

I didn’t go back after a month, I was back with JC and didn’t have a car any more, besides I was too afraid to go back. It was almost a year later that JC and I were semi split again and I needed money desperately so I called the woman’s shop. She was off work that day but the woman who answered the phone told me to call Shirley’s cell phone. She didn’t sound happy to come to the shop on her day off but after a few minutes she told me to meet her there at 3 o’clock. All the way there I prayed to make $100, not $20, not $80, I had to have $100, I prayed non stop all the way there. Shirley liked my stuff and in the end bought $100 worth. She hesitated when she went to get the cash and then she looked at me with a strange look and said,” I would hesitate to say this to any one else but I have a feeling you will understand what I am about to tell you.”

She came and sat down on a bench in front of me and said, “You prayed on the way here didn’t you?” I nodded, she went on, “I didn’t really want to come down here today on my day off but God spoke to me and told me, “this woman really needs the money, go and spend $100.” I said yes that is what I prayed for and she smiled and nodded, “I knew it.” when she counted out the money she said, “$50 from me and $50 from God, we both think you have talent.”

Shirley became a good friend, every time I took product to her we would sit and discuss God and big and small miracles that had happened in her life and were starting to happen in mine.

I started listening for that tiny voice, and it seemed everywhere I went I met Christian people who shared with me, my faith grew daily because almost daily I experienced a miracle of some sort. I had left JC and didn’t have a job, nor furniture but I had income tax money to pay rent. The place I rented was owned by a man with a scrapyard and I was only there a couple of weeks when the owner offered me a job driving the delivery truck. After ten months of driving for him I was to be laid off and I decided I wanted my own truck to do landscaping, deliveries, anything but haul scrap metal. I had no money, a horrendous credit rating and soon no job. I looked everywhere for a truck, tried every way I could think of to get a truck but even those car lots that advertise, “Every one drives, we turn no one down” turned me down for a truck loan.

I was about to give up when I saw a cute GMC 1 ton with a flat deck on it parked on the side of the road with a for sale sign in the window. I stopped and immediately called the number. The man, Rene’ said he would be right there with the keys to let me have a look at it. He told me he had parked it there not even an hour earlier and I was the 4th call he’d had on it. I told him my situation, that I was losing my job and wanted my own truck. I offered him to trade my Eagle talon for the truck but he had enough vehicles so I thanked him anyway and headed home. I prayed for God to some how get me that truck and then I let it go. I must have told him where I worked because 1/2 way through the day he called me.

Rene – You really want that truck don’t you.

Me- Yes I do but like I said I don’t have any money.

Rene’ – I was talking to the wife about it last night, and well we don’t really need the money right now; maybe we can work something out.

Me – What did you have in mind?

Rene’- How much money do you have right now?

Me- Only about $100

Rene’ – Write up an IOU and come to my house tonight with your $100.

I went that night with $100 and a promise to pay the balance within a year and left with a signed transfer and tax form and the keys to the 1 ton.

A stranger, signed over his $4000 truck on a promise and a prayer.

And so began the Lady Witha Truck.


Miracles DO happen, even when it doesn’t seem possible, that is why they are called miracles. Believe in the power of prayer, no matter how bleak your situation may seem; nothing lasts forever, not good nor bad.

I want to share more about the miracles that have happened in my life but now it is very late and I am going to bed.

wishing everyone happiness and everyday miracles

ReCreations – Platter

20130523_005818-12013-05-23 01.03.482013-05-23 01.03.02My whole life I wanted to be able to paint but try as I might I could not transfer what I saw with my eyes onto a piece of paper with paints. Everything came out looking like a one dimensional blob. I was artistic in other ways but I considered myself to be more “crafty” than artistic.

Then one winter JC got the position of on site security at a very remote gravel pit.

We had no TV, radio, phone or internet. It was winter and we were living in a small holiday trailer. I was going crazy with nothing to do. I would ride with JC during the day as he hauled cars and made deals. One day he was given a van full of “stuff”, some of the stuff was painting supplies. I tucked them aside when we got home.

I have always hated to see something perfectly good and useful get thrown in the trash and I got hooked the first time someone introduced me to dumpster diving. It was right up my alley (pun intended)

In the dead of winter I was tearfully flipping through gardening magazines and on a whim decided to try painting flowers on a cookie sheet because that way if I made a mistake I could wipe the one section clean and redo one it without having to throw away the whole picture.

Being out in the forest with nothing but time I started to take notice of my surroundings; all the magnificant shades of green there was for moss, how the mountains could look almost black somedays or blue others. Green was no longer just green, I started mixing colours to come up with a colour closer to what I saw with my eyes. I noticed that the evergreen trees were almost black in the centre with graduated shades of green. I noticed how the sun reflected off the pedals of a flower and some pedals shadowed the lower pedals.
All of a sudden my paintings came to life and started to look like what I saw. I was so pleased with some of my work I clear coated it and kept them. I became obsessed with painting, I painted day and night. Paints and brushes were a buck at the dollar store and of course my canvasses were free.

I painted everything and anything; I even painted flowers on the kitchen cupboard doors. One day JC teased me that maybe I needed to sell some of my artwork because it was a little bit much in our tiny trailer. He said every time he came home he expected to see the seven dwarfs singing “Hi Ho Hi Ho” as they marched down the driveway.
“A little too crafty around here?” I laughed.

I removed some of my art from the walls and had it laying outside when a buddy of JC’s came by. He saw my stuff and wanted to buy a few pieces for his wife. I was flabbergasted!! Someone wanted to pay for my paintings. I think I charged him $5 a piece but he took two and gave me $20.

For years, every night I’d paint until I couldn’t keep my eyes open, sometimes falling asleep with a paint brush in my hand and a pot of paint on my knee. I’d wake up with paint splattered every where.

In 2005 we were living in another hell hole, struggling to make enough money to eat, fighting constantly, him sabotaging my vehicle so I couldn’t work and I’d had enough so I moved out. My brother offered me a job working for him but that didn’t pan out so I was broke. I had just enough gas to get to Fort Langley, a quaint little town full of little antique shops and crafty type stores. I loaded up everything I had painted and headed out determined to sell something, I HAD to, but when I got there I lost my nerve. I went into shop after shop never getting up the courage to approach anyone about buying my stuff. I berated myself for being such a coward; I knew I didn’t have enough gas to get home, I HAD to sell something!!

There was a highend shop on the outskirts of town and I stopped. It was 5:50 and the woman was bringing in antiques she had displayed outside.

I swallowed hard and approached her stammering something about having painted stuff to sell. She checked her watch and said,”Ok, show me what you’ve got”.

She looked at what I had, picked a couple of pieces and asked how much. I shrugged and said I didn’t know. She said, “You have to know the value of your work, tell me what its worth to you”. I gave her some prices and she paid what I asked.

I thanked her very much and she replied that she was going to Australia the next day for 7 weeks to visit her son. She gave me her card and told me to do alot of painting during that 7 weeks and bring everything I had when she got back. Then almost as an after thought she said,”You have talent, don’t short change yourself. You have to know your worth, you’re good, people will buy it”.

Seven weeks turned into several months, I was back with JC and had lost my nerve again. Then the day came when I was totally broke again and I loaded up my car and called her. She had a day off, but after a few seconds of hesitation she told me to meet her at the shop at 3:30.

It was a 45 minute drive and I prayed the whole trip. “God, please, I need to make a hundred dollars minimum! In your son’s name amen.” Over and over I prayed.

Shirley looked at my collection of painted stuff, picked out half a dozen pieces and said, “How much?” her eyes told me I had better have a price ready for her. She smiled when I told her the prices. She tabulated how much she owed me and then she looked very serious.
She said, “I am going to tell you something I wouldn’t tell many people, but I think you will appreciate what I am about to tell you”.
I said,”Ok”. And held my breath.
Shirley went on, “You were praying on your way over here today weren’t you?”
I nodded yes.
She continued, “You prayed for $100 didn’t you?”
I nodded yes.
She showed me her addition and it came to exactly $100, then she told me that when I called, God told her this girl needs $100. She said she really didn’t feel like coming in on her day off but God put it on her heart that she had to come.
“So” she said, “God and I are investing in you not just me.”

Before I left she told me she would like to carry my stuff in her shop but she wanted exclusive selling rights in Fort Langley. I have sold hundreds of pieces of art through Shirley’s shop.

Unfortunately I had photos of everything but they disappeared quite a few years back.

I’ve painted everything from an old barn door that had a price tag of $275 but got stolen out the back door of the shop. (Shirley always paid me up front for my stuff and then doubled the price in her shop) to a pair of old gumboots, and water skis. My hottest sellers have always been my broken shovels which typically sold for $100.

I haven’t painted much since the economy tanked at the end of 2008. When the economy crashed Shirley couldn’t afford to buy my stuff upfront and I was working so hard trying to make ends meet I didn’t have time. I painted a few special pieces for family and friends. I painted a sweet little chair for JC’s nephew, of the ocean, fishes, clouds and kites in the sky. At Christmas I love to paint snowy winter scenes on plates and have graduated to painting deer, santa, veggies, mountain scenes and more. If I can see it, I can paint it.

At my Grandma’s memorial I mentioned to my cousin that my blog needed a trademark. I said everyone uses a ribbon, I want something unique; maybe even something I could sell that symbolizes life with and after the narcissist. She immediately suggested my painted shovels.

Then we got on a roll.
My painted stuff is something someone else deemed worthless and discarded. I take it and give it new life, a new and different purpose than it had before. Whereas it was a functional shovel at one time I make it into a one of a kind piece of art to be treasured. The damage done to it add to its beauty giving it character.

Plus a shovel comes in handy if you are still with the N, you can use it to shovel all the shit that comes out of his mouth.
You could use it to hit him over the head the next time he pissed you off. And you could use it to bury the evidence.
Once you are split you can use it to shovel through all the lies and false acusations he’ll toss at you during the divorce.
Then when he is out of your life you can use it to “bury the hatchet” , “bury the past”, and “break new ground” as you start your new life without him.

And last but not least, you keep it as a reminder that just because one person deems you worthless and discards you does not mean he is right.

As Shirley said years ago, “You determine your worth, you have to know your value and then set your price. If you don’t set your price high enough no one is going to say,”Oh no I want to pay you more”. So set your value high, people will pay it, you have to know your own worth. I recently pulled out my paint brushes again. This is my latest project. I got the platter out of the Home Sense dumpster a couple of years ago. You can see the handle is missing on one side. I wanted to paint the platter to match the cushions in the living room but I added a little Hummingbird right in the centre.
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Heaven on Earth

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth.
One is nearer to God in a garden
Than any place else on earth.

Dorothy Francis Gurney

The above is an exert from a poem by Dorothy Francis Gurney; I used to have a wooden plaque hanging in my garden with that verse on it.

Through the worst times of my life I have found comfort in my garden. When JC and I were at the resort I spent hours tending my garden, crying, praying for answers, praying for strength, praying for my son and my brother, praying to be given one more chance to save my boy, praying for serenity, and sometimes cursing God for giving me too much to handle.

I always came away from my garden feeling calmer, stronger; it was my refuge. It has been for most of my life. When I lived at the lake before I even met JC I would be out there with a flashlight and a glass of wine tending my garden. It seemed the harder the time I was going through the more beautiful my gardens were. Every year I dug up more sod for more flowers. The little English lady that lived across the street and could barely walk made her way across the road slowly with her walker and came up to where I was pulling weeds and she said, ” I want to thank you for your lovely gardens. I look out my window and your gardens take me back to my childhood and the lovely English gardens. You have a loving touch; I’ve watched you. I just wanted you to know you have given this old lady much pleasure with your gardens.” and she shuffled back to her house. I’ll never forget it and of course I cried.

When we were at the resort I couldn’t afford plants but all the neighbour brought over plants and bulbs as they thinned out their gardens, one brought over a filing box with tons of different seeds for me to pick from. It was a tough year emotionally, like I said, I did alot of praying. It was the most beautiful garden I’ve ever had.

Gardening is so community minded, it brings people together, gives them something to talk about. A person can be talking by and feel free to say, “Your garden is lovely”. Or gardeners are always so willing to share plants, advice, and ask questions. Somehow a garden removes fences, class distinction, age, and even gender, gardeners are all on the same team.

I missed my gardens this year, I planted gardens last year and got compliments but I didn’t take the time to enjoy them because I was on borrowed time there and was trying to work as much as possible. This year I did plant some, but lack of water took its toll.

I pray that someday I have a tiny place, nothing fancy, I’m easy to please. 400 sq ft would do me just fine, with a fireplace (there is nothing like coming home from a long walk on a brisk fall day and the house is toasty warm from a crackling fire) There are few things more rewarding than getting up in the morning to a cold house and finding a few red embers still in the wood stove because all that’s necessary is to pull ghetto damper and throw on a few dry pieces of wood and in minutes the house is warm again.
I want a kitchen big enough that I can cook a pot of soup or chilli or maybe a pot roast and have a few friends over to share my fire and a bottle of wine.  lots of windows to let the sun shine in and hang crystals in. And a covered porch to hang wind chimes and a wooden rocking chair so I can sit out there even when it rains. One wall of book shelves for all those books I keep moving with me and some day want to read, but they look good until then. 🙂 I love books.

A place I can paint. A freezer I can fill with baking at Christmas and maybe even some cabbage rolls and tourtierre. A bath tub I can fill with bubble bath and keep adding hot water to until I am pink and wrinkly.

And a tiny yard trimmed with gardens.

And never have to move; just grow old there, Grandma’s house. Where my son and grand daughter can come to visit and know there are cookies in the cookie jar and my son will go to the freezer and grab some frozen cookies and I can give him shit for eating them before Christmas.

That is what I pray for. Not much, nothing fancy; not a knight in shining armor to save me, no trips around the world. Just a little bit of heaven on earth. The sun for pardon, the bbirds song for mirth.

What for you pray for?

Why on Earth did I Stay

As his hands tightened around my neck I struggled but he was much stronger than I. I felt my body go limp as everything went black. My last thought was, “He is going to feel so bad when he realizes what he’s done.”

Then I was gasping for air. I was disoriented and realized I was on the floor of the truck and scrambled to get back on the seat. I expected him to be as shocked and horrified as I was over what just happened but he put the truck in gear and stared straight ahead not saying a word.

I was numb with disbelief, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted it to not have happened because now I knew I had to make a choice. I had always sworn if any man hit me I would be gone so fast his head would spin but now faced with the situation it wasn’t  that easy. When we pulled in the driveway 5 minutes later he said, “That’s it. I want you out, its over.”

I don’t recall what I said, I know I was shocked at the fact that we were both so calm. I felt I should be angry, or crying or indignant but all I wanted was for him to hold me. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t as horrified as me. I don’t recall what I said  but I’ll never forget the look on his face or the tone of his voice when he said, “You ungrateful fucking bitch I shouldn’t have stopped when I did”

I was numb, confused, this was NOT JC, he was the most nonviolent man I had ever known. Sure we’d been having problems but he never even swore when he hurt himself working on the truck. He was unflapable JC never lost control. I didn’t know this cold, distant man that just told me he should have killed me. I was sure he must feel awful, I wanted to put my head on his shoulder and have him hold me, to look in his eyes and see love and not hate. So after a few hours I went out to the shop, he was cold and pulled away from me when I went to touch him. He refused to talk to me so I went back in the house. The next morning he took the house phone with him to work and I was home alone with my thoughts.

Stress, my God, we had so many things happen in the first few months we were together and he’d always stayed so calm, distant yes but not angry and hateful. I was sure with time we could talk like we always did and work it out.

In the first 6 months we had lived together we had made the deal on the house, he had been unjustly fired from his job at the resort (I didn’t know that JC gets “unjustly” fired from every job he has and never lasts more than a few months); I was his staunch supporter and assured him we’d get through it together. He proposed.

My brother confessed to the family something I am not at liberty to discuss here but it had been extremely traumatic for my whole family especially my mom who couldn’t handle it and washed her hands of the whole situation. So it had fallen on my shoulder to be support my brother and mother. My son had gotten involved in drugs and gangs and my family told me I had loved him too much when he was a child, I had spoiled and ruined him. My mom told me to forget I ever had him. JC held me and said there was no way I could turn my back on him now.

He was on the streets some where and I was frantic to find him. My mom kept calling crying about my brother and one day I said, “You know mom I am worried about my brother too but I also have a son out on the streets some where that I am worried sick about.” and her reply was,”but your brother has so much more to lose.” I asked, “So you are saying my son’s life is not as valuable as my brother’s?” JC held me when I cried.

With everything JC’s support was unwavering.

I lost my job 3 months after we moved in and then we got news that JC’S dad had cancer throughout his body and had been given only months to live.  JC got a job and his dad died 2 weeks later, he had flown out for 2 days, worked for 2 weeks and flown back for the funeral. He had been extremely close to his dad and I knew he must be hurting but he had hardly cried or talked about it. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.  He became obsessed about how much money I was spending and insisted I owed him thousands of dollars and that is what the fight was about when he strangled me. He was wrong about the money but I was sure it wasn’t the money anyway; he was hurting and I was going to figure out how to help him.

And that’s why I stayed at first.

I was making as much on unemployment benefits as I would have working and I didn’t mind playing the role of homemaker. I didn’t know it at the time JC was disabling my vehicle; as far as I knew it had mechanical problems and when JC said I couldn’t drive it I didn’t question it. There were no buses out to where we lived and there was never any printer ink to print off resumes so I worked fixing up the house. He seemed to like having me home and would often have me ride with him in the dump truck while he worked. We always had a great day when I did and I would feel so close to him again. He brought home a dump truck load of landscaping rock then soil so I put in rock gardens and a pond, he brought home a load of sand and I shovel and raked it making a lovely sandy beach in front of our house. He came home from work and supper was ready, the house was spotless, there was always fresh baking. I would try to set the mood and have candles lit when he got home hoping he would stay inside with me and not go out to his shop. Every night it was the same, he’d come home, go out to his shop, I’d call him in for dinner, some times I would end up taking his dinner out to the shop for him, if he did come in he would go straight back out after dinner. I would put on something sexy and try to entice him to come to bed and he would pull away saying he was dirty and I would make some comment about liking dirty men. His sense of humor was gone, he would say, “I’ll be right there” I would go to bed and end up falling asleep. Some times he would crawl in to bed about 4 or 5 am and we would make love but often times I would wake up in the morning and realize he hadn’t been to bed at all and I would cry.

I come to dread times we were close and loving because it seemed after an especially loving time he would be doubly cold and cruel to counter act it. I prayed alot, I didn’t know how to reach him, he seemed like he hated me most of the time.

I talked to a girlfriend who also lived at the resort and told her I thought he hated me. She was shocked, she told me that all he ever did was speak highly of me, he bragged about my cooking and all the work I was doing on the place, she said she had seen him bringing me home flowers and I felt bad for doubting his love and decided to try a little harder not pressure him.

We would discuss money, I would think we had sorted it out but within a few days he was on me again. He stayed up all night calculating how much he spent on me and presented me with an invoice of everything I owed him right down to the 25¢ he had given me when I was short of money for a slushy.

The next time he got physical was on my birthday. He forgot my birthday and called half way through the day. I had been snarky with him and then immediately felt bad. It was a day the car was working and he had called me and told me to pick up his cheque, cash it and bring the money to the track. I apologized for being snarky and he just brushed it off. When I got to the track racing was cancelled due to rain so I called to tell him and he said to meet him at work. I got there and he seemed fine, he hugged me and was joking about forgetting my birthday and how he was going to make it up to me by taking me for dinner.

When we left the office I asked him if I should leave my car there and ride with him and we could pick it up later or should I follow him.

JC – What the hell are you talking about?
Me-Dinner, should I leave the car here and we can pick it up later.
JC – I don’t know what you are doing but I’m going to the track.
Me – racing is cancelled, I thought we were going for dinner.
JC – are you buying? I don’t have money for dinner.
Me – I’ll will go with you to the track, I got my EI today I can buy supper.
JC – Just go home I’ll see you there.

I was not going to let him ruin my birthday so I went to the liquor store and bought a nice bottle of wine and a pack of tobacco. (I rolled my own cigarettes JC always bought taylor mades). The rain had let up so I went home, poured myself a glass of wine and went out to putz in my garden. I was not going to react, I was not going to ruin my day. He walked through the door about 10 with a carton of his smokes, a 26er of rye, a cases of his favorite coolers and a look on his face that said he was itching for a fight.

JC – I see once again you took care of yourself and didn’t buy me smokes or booze.
Me – please don’t start, I don’t want to fight.
JC – You don’t want to go there because you know I’m right.
Me – just last week you told me to just buy my own smokes and you’d buy your own so that’s what I did. Please don’t do this. Not tonight.