If there is anyone here who thinks that they'll never get ahead in life, or get that blessing that God's been promising, think again.  God has your best interest at heart, and He is with you, always; He will always be, until the end of time.

God has gotten me through some incredibly taxing experiences.  You know some of what I've gone through (thanks, in part, to several books I'd written; working on a new one as I speak); however, there is more to me that you don't know.  God has been incredibly merciful in my life, and He can be in yours, too, if you only invite Him in, give Him a sporting chance.

I was born in a tiny Cajun town in south Louisiana.  I was one of five girls; I was the baby.  I had a simple childhood; grew up speaking both French and English, doted on my parents, had really nothing to worry about, whatever we needed, our parents provided. 

When I was nine, all that happiness I'd felt threatened to go by the wayside.  I was horribly injured in an accident that left me unable to walk for over a year.  I was paralyzed; yet by a miracle, I was walking again--with crutches, mind you; but I was mobile, getting around.  There was nothing that was going to stop me!

After I'd healed from the accident, I threw myself back into enjoying my life.  I spent the weekdays going to school, completing my homework, dreaming of when I would grow up.  I wanted to become a nurse, especially since I had some wonderful nurses that took care of me when I had been hurt.

I spent the weekends going to Cajun dances with my family; oh, how I loved it!  It was hard, though:  had painful back spasms/pain that threatened to take my breath away; yet I pressed on.  Call me determined!

When I was in high school, I'd met a man three years older.  I was sixteen; the man, nineteen.  Oh, he was good looking:  incredibly tall (way over six foot easy), dark, long, black Indian hair, skinny as a rail, flashing dark eyes.  Oh, he sure was cute; I fell head over heels in love with him. 

He was also the man who'd gotten me pregnant.  Only one time, and I was soon pregnant (much to my surprise); didn't expect THAT.

I was barely more than a baby myself; yet I was now with child.  When my papa found it out, he threw my boyfriend out on his ear; told him never "to darken our doorstep again".  It was a very emotional, difficult time in my life.

If I could have done anything to prevent getting pregnant, believe me, I would have.

About eight months later, our first child, a little boy we named Aron Jakob, was born.  He was the light of our lives; we enjoyed taking care of him.

However, tragedy struck, tragedy that took us by surprise.  One minute, Aron, now nearly four, was healthy, happy, laughing; the next, he was fighting for his very life.  He took sick with a virulent strain of bacterial meningitis.

By the time we'd rushed him to the ER, he was in a coma.  There was nothing we could do except pray for a miracle.

Unfortunately, we did not get that miracle.  Our baby boy died on the day he was to have been four years old.  Instead of birthday cakes and candles and gifts, we were picking out a casket, making funeral arrangements.

~To be continued.~