The Woman Warrior

It’s not easy being a Christian in a modern world. I have always been a warring child, and thus a warring woman. Yes, it’s true, I’ve always had a warring spirit within me. You might say I was very much like Isaiah, Rahab, or Peter. I am afraid of what that may mean, because their lives were definitely saved, but they went through horrendous suffering in life. Nonetheless, that is my DNA. I think God had planned on my being a warrior in prayer, because that is how I approach prayer, like a warrior who wants to eradicate evil, and save those who are weak and in need.

People like to make people like me out to be corny, nerdy, or worse, rebellious. But it serves a purpose when you’re a Christian, or I like to call myself better, a “Christ believer,” because the title “Christian” has become filled with yeast, or dilluted by so many who call themselves as such, but like me, they have trouble abiding.

As a little girl, I always had trouble listening to my parents because I was quite observing and critical. If they told me to obey Jesus, but they had trouble, I’d say: “Why should I, you don’t. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Looking back, there is no way I can say any longer, that my parents were poor parents; on the contrary, they were wonderful saints of Christ, why? Because they failed miserably as human beings, but they remained steadfast in their belief in Christ. That is the “ticket to ride,” when it comes to following the Lord.

When I think of the little rebel I was ALL MY LIFE, it stands to reason I have a lot of consequences that won’t go away now, much like Corrie Ten Boom. For you younger people, it would do you good to look her up.



Yes, I am a wild horse when it comes to ADHERING to the instruction of others, but then again, I also am stubbornly sticking to the Lord, regardless of my human failings, which means: yes, I’m human, but I am saved by the grace of God through Jesus the God-Man, the Christ.

Like the criminal on the cross next to Jesus who asked to be remembered, I am rebellious in many ways in society. I’m not a follower of people or trends, it’s true, though I’ve let them influence my decision making at times, and usually mixed with my interpretation of what I think is best, admittedly I haven’t made very good choices. But one thing I know: “forgetting what is behind me, and looking toward the prize of the  high calling of Christ Jesus, I press forward…” So it’s all good. Life is tough, but God is tougher, and God is training his children to be more like him–tougher than steel.

I think I’ll just ride the storm with God. Here is a bunch of research articles, websites, and topical subjects on my beliefs. Blessings upon this earth and mercy big time to all who read this.

The Gospel in Isaiah – (Online Bible Study)

Rahab : The Prostitute God Uses

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18English Standard Version (ESV)

16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

Lately, memories of family…coming back to me…

I was listening to this beautiful song, orchestrated with lead singer, Allison Cross, and it crept up on me; I saw past scenes, of which I remembered so many wonderful memories as a child.

I am not of European ancestry at all. In fact, my Daddy was from Maztzaclan, Mexico. My Mama was from Texas. She used to tell me that he was an orphan of Apache descent, but raised by a Mexican woman. When he was about 17-18 yrs. old he joined the Mexican army, but he had his own intention. He crossed the border, threw off his uniform in the wilderness, and went into California, started his career as a radio singer. Later, he played the part of an Indian in the western pictures, getting shot and falling off his horse.

Being older, he never mastered the English language, while my mother, from Texas, never allowed us to speak Spanish. Her history goes like this: in school, she was slapped or hit by teachers if they heard her speaking Spanish. So, she wanted us to be as American as any other immigrant, European or Latin, French, whatever.

As the years went on, my father became a Southern Baptist Minister, and he preached and ministered to the Mexican farm workers, since he also worked them. I will never forget his beautiful voice and his way of teaching. Although I would not speak it I understood everything he said.

When I was 17, and pregnant, my father while traveling to Mexico for his convention, was killed in a car accident. That fact has continued to illuminate so many of my senses of loss, and fears. To lose someone so far away, when you need them most was the beginning of my devastating life.

Years later when my mother died, it opened that old wound, and I understood the words I heard before: I am an orphan now.

This song reminds me of when I was a very small child. My family sung like this, in church. To boot, my grandfather was a minister as well. So my whole upbringing was “about that good ol’ way.”

I am old now, and remembering those days as a child has brought me comfort in this old body, longing to see all my family again, for nearly all of them have passed.

I still believe, and I plan to see them again, i pray to see them again. … Daddy, I miss you… Mama, too, but I had you with me in so little of the time… I will rejoice when I see you again…


I have been feeling very sad about this world’s way of dealing with the sorrow and pain of others, when we are in a good place and others are suffering.

Unfortunately, it took my becoming one of those suffering people, to realize what others go through.


Has anyone ever seen the movie, “Changing Lanes?” The general plot is about how some event occurring, can change a person’s entire life. Of course it begins with changing a lane, and an accident and so forth, but the title “Changing Lanes” is a metaphor for what happens to the people in the movie.


In 2008, and 2009, I lost one home and a business, and then I lost the other home I was going to retire in. I had not saved for anything else but those two properties, because I believed nothing could ever happen to real estate. When I began losing everything, without ever experiencing such devastation, I did not know what to do or from who to ask for help. I only knew I had to somehow gather strength to stop the  financial tsunami I was experiencing.


So here it was: In the economic downturn, I got sideswiped and forced to change lanes with devastating results.  From a life of ease and middle class comfort, I drove into a life of devastation, and slowly became a member of the poorest population in our society.


Did anyone in my line of profession come to help? No. I struggled for about two years moving, renting here and there, attempting to go back to school, thinking that would help me get a teaching job, while going to work for another broker, hoping to make ends meet that way.


Guess what… a famous corporation of real estate motivators called TOM FERRY, sued me during this time, because they could not find my 3-day right of refusal when I changed my mind in giving them money for exhorbitant priced training, that I realized I would not be able to afford in my desperate frame of mind. Since I moved around so much, I could not find my copy, and when I asked at work if they had a copy they had already disposed of OTHER people’s faxes, so I had no proof.


Consequently, I was forced to claim Bankruptcy; a situation I promised myself earlier in my life I would NEVER do. During all this time, during this harrowing economic crises, this big organization decided to sue someone like me, who was already drowning. This is why I very carefully choose who I trust in the real estate business, and the TOM FERRY ORGANIZATION IS ONE NOT TO TRUST.


But going back to those nightmarish years, I was losing my home and had to live in a motel for a while until I got through my bankruptcy and began over again, I began to reassess the meaning of life and purpose, of significance, and so on, but this came very slowly… try: 10 years. I had ups and downs, distractions, bypasses, forks in the rooads, so many upheavels, it is too painful even to remember, but i have to, because remembering all this has brought me to a place, but we’ll get to that.


I claimed that for ten years I was in Moses’ desert, groping, feeling devastated and disillusioned. I burned out, lost what little self-esteem I had left, felt incurably angry all the time, experienced the worst self-hatred, depression, whatever you can think of to name, I went through all of it. I drank too much, smoked too much, and sat in front of the television watching movies that helped make me cry, because that was all I was doing anyway.

It was as if I had stuck my head (metaphorically speaking) in the sand like an ostrich, pretending nothing was happening, but my life was a trip to hell. It brought me to where I am now: physically ill.

It seems today, my mind is trying to get up, but my body keeps pulling me back down. I watched a number of videos today, because I could not walk; I have these bouts of pain that cripples me for a couple days, then I (hopefully) bounce back after rest.

Anyway, I watched these videos, and I think I sometimes watch them because I am looking for help and hope. There are times when I reach anxiety levels that drive me to fear in high gear.  Homeless has always been one of my fears, since I came from acute poverty as a child.

Getting older, and/or getting sick, is a fact of life. But being prepared for getting older and getting sick, is a choice in life. Consequences reflect one’s choices. This is part One of many reflections to come, I’m sure.  For now though, let me start my series here, by showing you one of those videos I watched today while I was recuperating.

This is what I was obsessing with today, because I am in constant need of help with my pets and household chores, and simultaneously trying to work from home. Whenever I get into these “scrapes” of health deterioration, I get desperate to find help emotionally. I think because I feel a lot of guilt for my illness, and my husband who is healthy seems agitated with me having to ask him for help.