I used to tell my husband, "If anything ever happens to one of our children, don't tell me, just bury me beside them."  I never thought instead, I'd be writing a book about it.   

Rejoicing Through the Rain is the story of the drowning of my 18 year old son on Mother's Day.  Yeah, it's a little sad, but that's not what the book is all about.  It's a story full of hope and encouragement for anyone who has lost someone they love, or really, anyone who has been through, going through or going to go through some rain.  It's confirmation that there is a God and a testament that He is good, all the time, even in the midst of a storm.

FORWARD

Mother’s Day, May 10, 2009. Sam and I went to the early-riser service at church instead of the usual 10 a.m. service for those of us who don't like to get up early.  We were needed to run announcements so we left our 18 year old son, Christopher, and 13 year old daughter, Chelsea, at home sleeping. I figured I’d earn more Mother-of-the-day points by letting them sleep in and taking them to the evening service, rewarding me with happy children and a perfect Mother’s Day. I was wrong. I had no idea that the storm of my life was upon me.

 

Fast forward to October 11, 2011. I couldn’t get to sleep…again. I had been writing this book in my head for months. Sam told me I should put my thoughts on paper. There is only one problem with that…I’m not a writer. I barely passed English. Still, I laid there for hours making up titles for this book I swore I was never going to write.  Finally, I did what I should have done to begin with; I turned it over to God.  I said, “If this is You, and You want me to write this book, You need to slap me across the face with a big fat YES.” Then, I rolled over and finally fell asleep.

 

The next morning at work, a co-worker said she was going to pick up Chinese, laid a menu on my desk and asked me if I wanted anything. I placed my order. When she got back, she laid Beef-n-Broccoli and a fortune cookie on my desk and said, “Maybe this will bring you some luck.” When I opened the fortune cookie, this is what the little piece of paper inside said: “Start writing a book, you have what it takes.” Seriously! I laughed out loud. A very loud, out loud! I called my husband Sam, and told him I just got slapped by God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

That evening I came home from work, made dinner, washed a load of clothes, then sat down and started writing this book. I don’t know its purpose yet. It could be that God wants more of my attention and this is His way of getting it. It could be that He just wants to see if I’m going to be obedient. Or, it could be that somebody out there needs to hear what He has to say through me. Either way, I am going to “start writing a book” because I have God’s hand print on my face.

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