From Feeling “Trapped” to Feeling “Free”

My husband and I (and our pups) just spent the last two days driving back up to Canada from the states. The past two weeks in the states have been phenomenal to say the least. I’ll write a post stating more of what we did later, but I experienced something tonight that I needed to feel, something I didn’t know would be possible for a very long time.

In high school, I lived in the “big city”. It was nice for the duration I was here, but when I left, I swore never to move back. I am a small town girl, and the big city is just not my scene.

When I graduated from university, I was able to get a job for the first year in a small town. Bingo! But when that maternity leave position ran up, so did my other plans.

I received a phone call from my superintendent that I had an interview scheduled in the “big city” on such-and-such a date at such-and-such a time. I hadn’t even been asked, I had simply just been told.

On that day, I drove to the city, did my interview, and of course, got the job. I couldn’t believe what was happening. The one place I never wanted to end up was the one place I was being told I had to be. I was angry for a very long time.

Eventually, I got to the point where I simply went around saying “God certainly has a sense of humour!” But my one year employment turned into two, then three, and currently on year four.

Reflecting on it, I knew God wanted me to be here. There were certain situations I had to encounter as a teacher to grow. There were painful moments I had to experience to become wiser. There were children who needed someone to advocate for them, and there were relationships built with students who just needed someone to listen that wouldn’t judge them. I was able to fill that place. As much as they think they have learned from me, I learned ever so much from them.

This year, when my big change from 6th grade to 2nd grade came, I couldn’t believe it was happening. As much as 6th graders stressed me out, I loved the counselling aspect; I loved the difficult questions. I felt like a stranger in grade 2. But of course, as time went on, it became easier and I was able to find aspects I liked. But I couldn’t help thinking, is this really where I’m supposed to be? Is this really what I’m still supposed to do?

I can’t really say it’s teacher’s burnout (though I’m sure some things are similar). It’s just the feeling of being “stuck”. No matter how many ways I looked at our situation financially, I could see no better opportunity to survive than where we were. We both hate living in the city, though I’ve come to see good parts about it and don’t hate it as bad as I used to. But when I can hear parts of my neighbour’s conversations, when my neighbours that I strive to be so nice to turn around and stab me in the back, and when I no longer see a way that Canadians are nicer than Americans anymore (sad reality from what I see here in the city), I know we aren’t really happy here. It’s not where either one of us want to be. So that’s when I realized something this weekend.

When we were finally finishing our drive, doing the same maneuvers through the city as we had done for years, we had come to the house, walked in, and I suddenly felt like I was in someone else’s house. I felt like a stranger walking into someone else’s life. It was a strange feeling. My husband did not experience the same thing, but for some reason, it was like I was that “spirit” looking at someone else’s world, an outsider looking in. Of course that feeling is over now, but that wasn’t the only feeling that came.

After driving for 2 days, we absolutely did not have the energy to go grocery shopping. So we went out for supper (our fridge is bare). On the way home from supper, it hit me. This city is no longer my jail. I no longer feel like I strapped to this city, unable to move. I no longer feel like the city is the pit that is going to swallow me whole to keep me here with no escape. I suddenly realized, with options my husband, my mother-in-law, and myself had talked about after Christmas break, the world is at our fingertips. It may not be a fun ride to make change, but to get out of the rut of tiredness, depression, and feeling “stuck”, a few months of painful change would be so worth it. It’s no longer an impossibly large, looming, unattainable vision, it is now a totally possible, difficult but doable task. And taking those chains off was the best feeling I could have ever experienced.

I know this post is kind of vague, but this year is a huge year of change. I cannot leak more information than is timely, but I can assure you this year is going to difficult but good. Stay tuned!

Judgment: I’m Guilty of It Too

I’m going to make this post a lot shorter than I originally  intended. Mainly because I’m not quite as heated up about it as I was at the time I wanted to write about it.

A student asked me this week if I would rather have 15 hour days or 34 hour days. I have no idea why those two numbers were picked, but I would definitely rather have the 34 hour days because then I would have more time to do things AND more time to sleep. I see it being a double win!

Anyways, I was part of another conversation on Facebook, a couple different ones I guess. And one thing I noticed is that people were very quick to judge who I was, especially if they didn’t agree with my opinion. I got called a hypocritical vegan, racist, a selfish person, etc. And that’s fine if it were true, and maybe somewhere in my actions, I don’t realize I am slightly those ways, but here is what the people didn’t know, and I called them out on this.

They didn’t know that I’m not a hypocritical vegan. I grew up eating meat. I was vegetarian for many, many years and only went back to eating meat because of getting into bodybuilding and fitness. I then became so miserable that I went to what I thought was only natural and the best for you – vegan. Since then, I’ve educated myself and now refuse to buy anything related to animal products. I research everything and to any of my knowledge do not buy animal-based products, even to the extent I refused to buy a new vehicle with leather in it! I only buy vegan make-up products, self-care products, and even now that my blowdryer just died after 11 years, I’m researching vegan blowdryers. Hypocritical? I really don’t think so…

Now racist and selfishness came in the same conversation with the ever trivial topic of the Syrian refugees. My point was to be careful with who we let in. I wasn’t saying to never let any Syrians in, I wasn’t saying to ban all Middle Eastern people, I was simply saying to be careful. It’s no different with any other race in any other country. I mean, there are WHITE people from North America that have joined ISIS. Am I going to say we should let them come back to our country just because they’re white? Absolutely not. My entire point was to be careful, to do the proper screening so that we can assess who really needs help from those that are actually terrorists that are trying to sneak in, because regardless of whether we like it or not, we live in a time where things like fake passports are easily available, some that are not even distinguishable from real ones. But back to what they didn’t know.

They didn’t know that in high school, I willingly gave up Christmas to go to Peru on a mission trip and give my time, my labour, and gifts to other people much more needy than myself. And no, my parents did not pay for that trip. They may have helped some, but most of that was fundraising and my own high school job that helped pay the thousands of dollars to go and give some more. They didn’t know that throughout high school and university, I spent extensive amounts of time gathering things for those less fortunate, and serving the homeless through things like soup kitchens and simply setting up tables in the middle of the homeless areas downtown for them to come get coats and other warm items to wear. What they didn’t know is that when I see people begging outside of grocery stores or gas stations in need of food or gas money or whatever, I stop and ask what it is that they need and pay for things for them. What they didn’t know was that in university, I was on a Choir trip to California, and the group of us (50+) were walking the streets of San Francisco where a homeless man was holding out a hat for money. Some rude boy walked by (not from our choir) and threw the money all over the ground. The homeless man was disabled and was having an extremely difficult time trying to reach the money. So regardless of how many countless people I saw walk by him, I stopped and picked up the money for him to which he was extremely grateful for and ended up handing me a Christian pamphlet. I will never forget that. What they don’t know is that even though I’ve become much too busy in my life to do as much as I want to help others, my heart aches when I see the disasters and injustices going on in this world. I cry about it. I pray about it. I cannot wait for God to return and wipe out all of the evil there is. Yes, things are not fair and I hate that it has to be that way.

But these are all the things these judgmental people didn’t know about me because they didn’t take a chance to know where I come from. Am I guilty of this sometimes? Absolutely. I will never profess to be perfect because sometimes you make judgement calls in the heat of the moment. But more and more I am consciously trying to take a step back, learn abut the person or situation, and then take a stand. Too often we are too quick to jump on something that we think is right without knowing the whole truth at all.

Take the time to be educated before jumping to conclusions.

The Difficulties of Changing Grades

The title may not be quite what you are thinking. I’m not even going to touch on the fact of the extra paperwork that comes with switching grades, the hours of preparing for something you would have otherwise not had to prepare so much for, and of course the task of learning a new curriculum. All of those make changing grades difficult, but that’s not what I’m focussing on today.

Today was our first day of school, and as you’ll read in my next post, I didn’t quite have the start to the year that I had planned. However, for all the preparations I did, today is what shook me up the most.

A little background for those who don’t know, I’ve essentially taught grade 6 for the past 5 years. That whole pre-teen mentality is what I’ve become accustomed to and primed to deal with. I loved it. But with an expanding school and a new principal, some changes were made, and I was asked to take on grade 2. I’ve been wondering if I would regret it ever since.

Everything went well. To be honest, it went way better than I thought it would. Surprisingly, the grade two students actually listen better than the grade sixes… go figure! But, when I walk into the hallways, and I see my previous students, I see the students that I had grown to know over the last year in anticipation of teaching them this year (before my assignment change), I can’t help but feel out of place. I feel like a skeleton of a person, just doing the job because I know how to do it, but not because I’m actually supposed to be there. It’s weird. Even my previous students stopped me and said they still didn’t picture me as a grade two teacher… because I’ve always been grade six to them! It’s just a strange feeling…

As I said, the day actually went very well. But there is so much to get used to. Grade two thinking is on a much more basic level than the complex conversations we would have in grade six. It takes them much longer to figure out problems and what I could consider simple tasks than the speed and accuracy my grade sixes could accomplish. I have never really had to teach reading before, nor spelling on such a basic level. I was a little shocked and blown away with the amount of help I needed to provide the students while creating an “About Me” booklet. It’s just so different from what I am used to.

I had a minute to talk to last year’s grade 2 teacher who is now teaching high school. She mentioned that after her first day in high school, she missed the grade 2 class. For her, the change was the opposite of mine. She missed the love and hugs you get from the younger children, and the kindness they speak to you in. Whereas high school students are very standoffish and can be rude in their talk. It’s completely different for her as well.

Are you a teacher that has switched grades? Do you know the “out of place” feeling I’m talking about? I’d love to hear your experience below and even suggestions on what you did to feel more “in place”. I’m sure time will help, but any extra advice is definitely appreciated!

The Penalty of Standing Out

I hate the way the world works sometimes. I hate seeing people in pain. I hate watching people getting picked on or bullied. I hate sin and wrong-doings in this world.

When I was going through my university years, completing my education degree, I had a desire to work with special needs children. It wasn’t because I looked forward to the extra work that often comes with special needs children, but because I wanted to make a difference. I knew special needs children were often put down and sometimes stared at as if the were a circus sideshow. I knew I could step up and be the voice of those children, and I knew that I could help those children feel as important as they are. But that’s not what happened.

At first I ended up teaching at a Native School. It took me awhile to learn the different dynamics needed to teach students who come from a history of anger. It was a definite learning curve in understanding the culture, the behaviours, and the thoughts about different things. But one of the things I found is that my classroom was often their safe place. My classroom was the one place they could count on someone being there to love them. I was a safe place for these kids.

Now as much as I loved being in that position, time would have me change again. This time, to a place where I wasn’t such a safe place. These kids did not need me (or at least felt like they didn’t). The attitudes were indifferent, the gratitude was gone. I really struggled at first to see how in the world I could make a difference when my students were convinced they had everything the needed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t my first year that I figured it out. It was my second and my third that really opened my heart. I realized that maybe I wouldn’t be able to reach all students, even though I try. But there is at least one in each class who needs someone they can trust; someone they can break down their barriers and let them truly see the inside that they keep.

It broke my heart when the first student really let me in their life. The amount of background some of these kids hide is disheartening. It sometimes makes you wonder how they even function. It’s no wonder some of them put up a tough-front at school. Some of them are simply caught in that worldly struggle: the one where they are fighting between being good and doing what they know is right, and doing what the world expects and wants them to do. Absolutely the struggle gets worse as the generations get older. It’s sad in the very least, but it does, unfortunately, exist.

I witnessed something that brought this whole thing up in my mind. A situation that brought up a whole slew of memories.

One of my students is running for class rep in the upcoming school year. She’s an awesome student, wonderful in both academics and her Christianity. Unfortunately, she is one in very few that does not struggle with desires to be popular. She will not swear because others are doing it. She does not talk about inappropriate things because she has no interest. She knows what she believes and she sticks to it. She knows what is right, and that is what she does. And it has made her unpopular in her class.

Today, the vote was completed. And though she almost perfectly fits the description of the position she is running for, more votes were left blank than were voted in favour. My heart sank and my blood boiled a little. If there were legitimately good reasons for not letting her have the position, then I would accept that. But I know it’s because they are upset the one person they wanted to run wasn’t able due to his grades. Whether it’s an expression of bitterness or anger, is it right to decline someone that not only wants the position, but is ready, willing and capable of doing it well?

I don’t know what the right solution is. After all, voting is an expression of your opinion. But my heart aches in knowing that the reasons behind the reactions are wrong. And that bothers me. Someone who perfectly is capable of doing something so well, being held back by unpopularity, is wrong. It takes me right back to my whole philosophy of teaching, and that is that students are capable of more than they are doing, and standing up for those who don’t have as much of a voice.

I grew up in public schools where situations are much worse than I have ever experienced in my years of private school. I have seen “losers” beat up for simply not being good enough for others. I have seen the separation and isolation of those who needed the extra pull-out help and did not think like the others. I have seen students dragged from classrooms because they were acting out in anger about their situations. It’s not pretty.

One year, we did a fundraiser where the boys provided a lunch, and we bid on these “anonymous lunches”. When the bidding was done and every girl had her lunch, then the boys would reveal themselves and we would share lunch with them. I just happened to get one of those classmates that was always taken out for extra help, and who had problems with his anger, reacting from the situations he was in and the way he was treated.

I will forever regret the way I treated him.

I didn’t say anything mean, but that’s simply because I didn’t say anything at all. I was silent the whole time. And now I cannot even go back and apologize for being “snobby” because he was killed in a car accident several years ago (I think I was still in high school). That’s guilt that I have to live with, and guilt that started to change the way I reacted to people.

The one girl that was dragged from our classroom was probably the lowest person in our class. She didn’t always take showers, and she didn’t come from the most well-off family. In fact, I actually don’t know how she was treated at home. But what I do know is that people didn’t like her and daily made fun of her. I will never forget the one day she came up to me and told me that I was her role-model. I didn’t try to be anyone’s role-model, I just tried to talk to her and be nice when others wouldn’t. And look at the difference that made on her life. The simplest of acts I could have done, and it literally changed her world.

Now I’d like to say others followed, but they didn’t. I’d like to say her life changed for the best, but it didn’t. I did manage to get in contact with her again during university, sadly to find out she was pregnant and the baby’s father wanted nothing to do with her as soon as she became pregnant. As a matter of fact, he ran out with another girl and married her very shortly afterwards. And to make matters worse, he called social services claiming she was an unfit mother and had her baby taken away. In no way did her life get better.

I’m sad to say I’ve lost contact with her. My only method of contact no longer seems to work. I do pray for her, that things work out and she’s able to have her baby back in her life. I know she was fighting hard for him. But I pray God’s love surrounds her and God-willing, I will be able to connect with her again.

I truly, truly do hate the world treats people that are different – people that stand out from everybody else. I had the position of popularity and I misused it once. But I promise to do my best to never misuse it again. When a situation arises where someone needs a voice, I wish to be that voice for them, to stand up on their behalf. Just because you don’t think the same as everyone else or do the same things everyone else does is not a reason to be treated so badly. Stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves. Make a difference in someone’s life. Even if it’s just one person you’ve helped, you’ve literally just changed a person’s entire world. Do what you can and don’t delay. You never know the good you can leave behind.

Week 7 Day 1

Today was a miserable day. We had to wake all too early, my girls didn’t even want to get up. The kids were tired from playing the night before, and yet games started at 9:00 a.m. with breakfast at 7:30 a.m. The poor kids. And to make it completely make it terrible the temperature was completely freezing, and it snowed, wet snow. The kids were tired, soaked, freezing, and the wind made it the worst it could get.

Our students actually made it to semi-finals. But we assured them that if they decided to quit, they would not be letting us down. I mean the weather condition was about the worst it could get. But our kids were troopers, playing through injuries, sliding on the ground, and shivering all the while. Until it got to a point that two of our good players couldn’t run anymore, and they finally understood they would not be letting us down if they quit. So they forfeited, and came inside. Some of the kids even had skin that was turning purple. I sent them immediately to warm up in sauna that was in the locker rooms. The kids were completely done and it wasn’t worth it anymore.

After the kids finished packing up and left, I actually ended up staying at a friend’s house because our staff had meetings in the same location the next day, so it wasn’t worth driving home for the night then driving back. Of course, this was just another day I didn’t see my husband, but we both rather I be safe, especially with the snow on the road.

I had an excellent night with my friend. Of course, those handy meals were still super helpful. But I did splurge and went out for supper with my friend to a restaurant I had never been to before. I had a salad and some Greek appetizers that I split with her. It was very, very good. But I did notice how full I felt afterwards. A little too full.

My friend had not been at the gym in quite awhile, and so I volunteered to go and train her. I didn’t get much of my own workout done, unfortunately, but I was able to show her many exercises for the different body parts so that she could know of some things to do while I was gone. I had so much fun training her!

I thought I had gone to bed at a fairly decent time, until her husband came home. I’ve known them both since high school, so of course I had to say hello to him. I didn’t quite expect it to turn into a few hours of talking about football, but it did. And so it was another very late night.

Week 6 Day 4

I finally got it last night on the treadmill. I finally thought up a few examples that really showed me things that were very difficult to forgive, but I have forgiven. As I reviewed my list, I realized these things hurt me more than they have ever made me angry. I narrowed my list to four things as I only wanted to summarize yesterday’s topic before presenting what I had prepared for today. My list consisted of the following: My father did not attend my high school nor my university graduations, my sister almost died due to the doctor’s mistake of putting latex elastics (of which she’s allergic to) in her mouth following jaw surgery causing her to near death, my friends burned down my family’s camp in a drunken stupor one Halloween night which contained years of memories that will never be replaced since my family was in the middle of renewing the insurance, and finally, the one that is still able to make me cry at any moment, is the fact that my grandfather died when an impatient driver went to pass a semi-truck and ran head into my grandparents’ vehicle coming in the opposite direction. Four extremely difficult situations I had to go through.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that yes, these things cause me sadness, but I don’t hold grudges against the people who were guilty. And here is what I figured out:

1. My life philosophy: Hate what the person did, but don’t hate the person. The truth of the matter is, if sin did not exist, the person would not have done what they did. God did not design us to be this way, but we all sin because of the fall in the Garden of Eden. When Jesus returns, sin will no longer exist. Therefore, just as we reflect on ourselves being sinful, hate the sin but not the person.

2. Allowing someone to suffer what we choose to be consequences for what they’ve done is a method of passing judgement. We are not the ultimate judge. Yes, Earth has judges for major sins that are here so that hopefully less sin will be created, but who are we to gossip about those who have made mistakes against us? We cannot claim to be the judge that God is, and thus should not carry out such punishments.

3. I thought of the story in John 8 where the people brought forth the prostitute expecting Jesus to agree that she should be stoned. However, Jesus responded in a way they didn’t expect, and that was that whoever had not sinned should be the first to cast a stone. Yet, nobody could because everyone had sinned. In this same way, how are we to again, punish others in such a way yet expect forgiveness for when we do something?

4. In a way, Jesus became the person you are upset at. Jesus did not just die for one person’s sins, He died for ALL of humanity’s sins. Think about that. In order to truly die on the cross for us, He had to essentially become all the bad things that we are. He became the bad in all of us. And I thought if I were to see the face of Jesus in the person I’m upset at, would I really be able to stay upset? This is a hard one to think of…

With that being said, I quickly summarized and prayed that those ideas would stick for anyone having difficulties with forgiveness. I then proceeded to continue with my topic for today.

Today’s School Spirit Week day was Tacky Day. Quite frankly, I hate this day. I don’t find “fun” in dressing tacky. But I do it to support my students. So tacky it was. When trying to think of a topic associated with dressing tacky, it quite easily came to me that the topic should be on how life can get messy. And I had a great personal story about this that I was given permission to share, and that was on my step-sister, Natalie.

Natalie was a child with a free spirit that did not easily get along with my dad. Quite understandably, it is hard for a man to come into your life that in a way seems to be taking place of your dad. I can completely relate to that. But she was encouraged by her true father to move out early. She moved out with her boyfriend at the young age of 15. She then proceeded to get involved with drugs which eventually led to many (I believe up to 15) times of being in and out of rehab. Then, the fearful happened. She became pregnant.

During her pregnancy, she seemed to come clean. She moved back in with her mom and my dad, and although there were still some arguments between my dad and her, she seemed to be doing alright. Several months later, twin boys emerged. They were premature, but healthy. I sing my praises to God that those boys were and still are healthy. So many things could have happened. But as they were now born and she fed from a bottle, it was becoming noticeable that she drank.

One Christmas break, my sister and I were at our dad’s, and our step-mom noticed she was getting an alcoholic drink. And so, my step-mom locked up the alcohol in her bedroom. What came next, none of us were prepared for. She went ballistic. She was pounding on the door, screaming that it was unfair, that they should allow her to drink, and finally that she was going to get her babies and they were going to leave. This got so out of hand that it got to the point, the almost unbearable point for my step-mom, that the babies were in danger and the police needed to be called. Keep in mind, my poor dad is running three things at the same time: apologizing and trying to lighten the mood for my sister and I, trying to console and counsel my step-mom, and keeping my step-sister and her babies in the house while keeping unwanted people out.

When the police came, they gave her the option of going upstairs to say good-bye to her babies. She fought and fought them until they eventually and literally dragged her out of the house. If only I could share with you the nightmare. I have never heard someone scream and yell like I heard her scream and yell that night. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought she was being stabbed to death. The awful things she was yelling at her mother would definitely be carried for a long time. That’s when I really knew what addictions could do.

She was released the next day, and I expected that when she called, she would at least ask how her babies were. But do you want to know the ONLY question she asked? When her mom could come get her and take her to get her Methodone shot. No joke. I was in shock. To care about a drug replacement shot to help with her previous addictions over the care of her own children.

Later, she did move out into her own apartment with her children, but by that Friday, my dad and step-mom had the boys over for a sleep-over that they would never return from. She was not using her finances for the true care of her children but rather to feed her addictions, and so learned that she could live on her own again while visiting her children as they were kept at my dad’s.

As much as I’d like to say that she got the help she needed, I can’t. I can remember a conversation we had late one night where she was telling me that the worst thing for her was realizing that she had no dreams left. She used to want to be an actress, to be all of these big things in her life. But she realized that her addictions have drained all of these hopes, all of these goals and dreams out of her, and she had nothing left. Perhaps this was one of the most painful realizations for her. Because one night, in winter, I received a phone call from my dad. His voice was shaky, and he sounded as if he was ready to cry. As much as Natalie and him fought, she was still a huge part of his life as his step-daughter. And I believe this is what made it so difficult that the police had shown up on their doorstep the night before asking them to come and confirm the identification of the body they had found under a bridge. Upon investigation, they had come to believe that she had jumped off the bridge as there was only one set of footprints in the snow that led to the railing and thus leading to the body below. What a hard thing to accept. After years and years of drug abuse, of alcohol abuse, and of accepting that you have nothing left to live for in life, I can only imagine the pain she must have been in. She knew that rehab wouldn’t help because it hadn’t in the past. She couldn’t seem to escape the relationship abuses from men, the fact that she couldn’t find the help she needed nor the inability to escape the addictions that had control over her. This was nothing short of terrible.

Of course, the following fear came that child services would take the boys away. But my dad and step-mother fought for custody of the boys and thankfully were awarded it. And to this day, they are doing the best they can while parenting as grandparents. They boys are doing so well, I’m happy to report. But one day, and my father has talked to me about this, he knows the boys will ask where their mother is, and why they don’t have one like all of the other kids. And he fears that conversation. He fears revisiting and telling them that their father has never wanted anything to do with them and that their mother was so involved with such horrible things that she couldn’t take care of them and eventually couldn’t even take care of herself. What a hard conversation to have with children. I can’t even imagine.

I asked the other teachers and staff to think about the children we have difficulties with, to think of the things we don’t know about in their home lives, the burdens they carry to school each day. Because sometimes, it only takes one family member to make life messy for everyone else. And when especially dealing with children, those background messes need to be considered.

I had to rush through this worship a little as you can probably imagine as it got a little long. But I left people crying and with deep thoughts. Because the truth is, sometimes life sucks. Life can be unfair. The devil is at work so much in our lives, trying to tear us away from our Father who loves us, and unfortunately he uses things like drugs and alcohol that have a way of hooking us and can be very difficult to get away from. Things like drugs and alcohol have a way of consuming people and making the gift of life that God has given us seem pointless. And unfortunately, I see the devil in much of Natalie’s life, laughing and smiling at her misery. And yet in the same scene, I see tears running down Jesus’ face as He watches the destruction of His daughter, the one He loves more than anything. It’s a sad scene, not an easy one to grasp and still not the easiest one to talk about. But as my father said, it’s important to use these stories to help prevent others from making the same mistakes and if this story will help someone, then it is worth talking about.

I didn’t workout today as it was a rest day, but I do hope that you reflect on this, especially if you or someone you know is suffering with addictions. Addictions are something so incredibly unfortunate and cause so much pain to everyone. Take intervention now. Pray that the God of healing, the God that has already defeated all evil in this world will help you overcome. Because there is no power greater than God’s.