Hey there!
Welcome to my account fed by Ravens. I’d like to welcome you into my wilderness experience which has been ongoing for several years. I write mainly about addiction and homelessness as it is an issue currently close to my heart. My youngest daughter has been living rough in a local city as a fentanyl addict for the last two years. You’ll also see some introspective writing on caring for elderly parents with dementia, the struggles of an empty nest after being a homeschool mom of seven for almost 30 years, and the ongoing battle of living the courageous Christian life in a world that seems to be falling apart around us.
Having my sweet daughter living on the streets as an addict with a partner twice her age, and the darkness nearly swallowing her whole, brought me to my knees spiritually. For the next 18 months as I struggled with a new learning curve of addiction and navigating social services, God drew me into a community that I had always tried to be supportive of, but had never been immersed in. Every week I spend at least one day on the street with my daughter and became part of her street family as a street mom, advocate and friend. I’ve had a lot of time in this wilderness experience for introspection, teary-eyed prayers flung into the darkness and waiting by this brook for ravens to bring me morsels from the Father. He has been and continues to be faithful, sending by wing, tidbits of answered prayer, small miracles, angels in many forms-from dealers, to security guards, to frontline workers. I was fed enough to walk in what felt at times like a true wasteland. An altered reality. A bad dream that I couldn’t wake from. But it was the people that were part of the healing. My days have been spent sitting on curbs, talking with dealers, street workers, addicts, parents of children living under someone else’s care….and in each face, I saw Jesus. God gave me an overwhelming love for them. It is all him. So in this place we will talk of all the hard things. The desperation of keeping your daughter alive. The dark days of suicide and oppression so heavy that at times it is palpable. Fighting to keep my head above water while navigating the grim world of opiates and the battle for recovery while trying to be a mom to my other children, a wife to my husband and Grammie to my six granddaughters nearly broke me. Perhaps you’ve struggled with addiction, a wayward child, the loss of suicide or a battle against darkness. I pray that in this place of communion, you will find solace, encouragement and a closer walk with our Father. There will be difficult and dark posts. And there will be quiet introspection as I gaze into a world full of beauty and hope. At times it will be gritty and visceral. At times it will be a cracked jar spilling light. The fragrance of a crushed flower. But it won’t be boring. So I invite you to join me here and pray that you too will be fed by ravens.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.
2 Corinthians 4:7-11 ESV
