The Healing Hope Newsletter

The Healing Hope Newsletter - December 2011

Thu, 29 Dec 2011 03:44:00 GMT

Healing Hope Ministries December 2011 Dear Friends, I am writing you from St. Petersburg, Florida. The afternoon sun is shining on the water and the temperature is in the mid seventies. Never did I expect to escape the Northwest cold and ice, but when my son Paul invited me to spend the winter with him in his condo, it took me about two seconds to respond with a resounding Yes! For several years Ive been sending you monthly the stories of people who have experienced some kind of abandonment. Cast away, neglected, demeaned or diminished, they felt unworthy of anyones love. When the time was right and by a variety of means, God Almighty revealed that He loved them and had never abandon them. From that moment, their spirits began to soar. I have decided, after prayer, to revise their stories so I can publish them in a book that will present readers with the overwhelming evidence that God is ready to heal every person who is broken hearted and set them free in Christ. So instead of interviewing more people and writing their stories, I plan to spend the near future on this collection, Lord willing. Ill let you know when it is available. If God brings me to mind, pray that I will be led by the Holy Spirit. Thank you for letting me know when God used particular stories in your own life and when you forwarded them to others. May we remain mindful of the fact that God is writing stories of His grace on our hearts every day. So how can any of us remain silent? Blessings, Marion Duckworth

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - November 2011

Fri, 18 Nov 2011 21:35:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter November 2011 Dear Friends, Marcy Huntsinger knew what it was like to be without. So when she witnessed homeless people in her small town of Lebanon, Oregon, going through dumpsters at night, she determined to do something about it. A soup kitchen. Thats what we need, she told friends who volunteered with her at a similar facility in another town Marcy wrote a letter to the local paper asking if there was a church in town with heart and kitchen enough to serve an estimated forty to fifty people. The First Christian Church offered their facility and held a public meeting to garner community support. Although the church could seat a hundred people and had sufficient equipment, theyd need help. Representatives from other churches, secular organizations and townsfolk volunteered their support. Lebanon resident Nancey West was present at that meeting. God had placed a desire in my heart for the soup kitchen. I felt it was his work. So when supporters detailed the list of repairs and permits that had to be in place first, she blurted out. It is Gods kitchen; let Him work out the details. He did. The Lebanon Soup Kitchen opened on June 7, 1989. Veterans in volunteer work, Dorothy Hull, Hilda Blake and Helen Richards each brought expertise. Local businesses donated surplus food and creative cooks turned it into entrees like chicken pot pie, chili, spaghetti, salads and desserts. Meals served three days a week would be free to everyone. We always have some homeless people, but the majority is the working poor and the disabled. One couple told me they only come in when things get tight. Many come for social needs as well. While volunteers dont preach the Gospel to guests, if they ask, we tell them about our faith. We rely on our actions to reflect what we believe. Support for the Lebanon Soup Kitchen has remained strong. Volunteers have provided clothes for babies, helped individuals find houses, get clothes for a job interview. Twice a year, a mobile dental unit works on guests teeth. Any who wants can also receive a flu shot. One of the most important things we do is listen to peoples stories, Nancey says. Some who have come to faith in Jesus Christ have gone on to be baptized. The miracle of the Lebanon Soup Kitchen has had such a profound effect on her life that Nancey wrote a book telling the story: Miracles Among Us. It can be ordered through her website: <a href="http://www.nanceywest.com">http://www.nanceywest.com</a>. Of course, not all the stories have happy endings, The sadness can be an emotional drain, Nancey says. But I have learned not to let emotions dictate my work at the Soup Kitchen. To recharge, she has to take care of herself spiritually through church, Bible study and friends. I feel blessed to witness the miracles that take place every day. Seeing and acknowledging God and His work leads to gratitude, and gratitude to hope. Blessings, Marion Duckworth <a href="http://www.marionduckworth.com">http://www.marionduckworth.com</a> <a href="http://healinghopeonline.com">http://healinghopeonline.com</a>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - October 2011

Thu, 06 Oct 2011 18:42:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter October, 2011 My mother often told me that I was a disappointment to her. She spent a lot of time sewing and doing crafts and wanted me to participate, but I wasnt interested. Peggy loved to read instead. She tried to teach me to crochet but finally gave up, saying it would be easier to teach a cow. Her mothers criticism devastated Peggy. I remember a time when I was eight or nine years old that she beat me with a broom and told me that she hated me. My brother was the golden boy in the family. He could do no wrong. It was so obvious that family members mentioned the fact to me and went on to assure me of their love. Her dad would come upstairs where she was crying after a rejection by her mother, hug Peggy and tell her that he loved her. That was what I needed to hear. A loving relationship with her grandmother also helped sustain her. As a result of her mothers treatment, Peggy became contrary. I was sassy, continually questioned why I had to do this or that. One thing I rebelled against was never being able to have friends over or allowed to go to their house. All day Saturday we cleaned house and summers I had to help can fruits and vegetables. Despite the others who were kind to her, Peggy grew up feeling unloved, ugly, and not worth much. Later, she realized that her mother had never learned to love unconditionally because shed had no mother to teach her. A therapist also helped Peggy see that her mother was jealous of the attention her father gave her. Mom thought she finally had someone to love her when she married, only to see him give love to someone else. When I was eight-years old, a neighbor began taking me to church. It opened up a whole new world to me. I loved the singing, music and Bible stories. It wasnt long before I believed that Jesus loved me. That helped me cope with my mother. Once, however, her mother warned that if she didnt do what she said, Peggy couldnt go to that church again. She did continue to attend the church where Sunday School teachers and youth group leaders helped her establish a sense of self worth. Prayer reinforced my sense of personal value, so did teaching a class and singing in the choir later on. In addition, I baby-sat a lot and the mothers helped me feel good about myself as well. I was fifty-two when my therapist suggested that I phone my mother and explain how much it hurt when she said she hated me. I did that and she hung up. So I called back three times. Finally, she said she was sorry. Our relationship improved after that. When Peggy married and had children of her own, she made sure to praise them and teach them self-confidence. But her old feelings of abandonment returned when her husband left her because hed fallen in love with her best friend. I felt totally rejected so recovery took time. Now, though, I realize that we live in a self-centered society. As a result, so many people need help. The problem is they either dont realize it or dont want to get it. If I could tell them what Ive learned, it would be this: God made you who you are. He loves you. Be proud. Hold your head up high and help someone else. Often that makes us feel worthy and needed. She would also encourage them to take the words in Philippians 4:13 to heart. I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me. A professional writer, she has helped many people heal through her words, like the pastor from Texas who called to tell her so. She also makes sure the children to whom she is close know that they are each Gods special creation and are very important to him. That helps her redeem the pain of the past. Blessings, Marion Duckworth *Peggy is a pseudonym Visit my websites: www.marionduckworthministries.com www.healinghopeonline.com

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - August 2011

Wed, 24 Aug 2011 17:33:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter August, 2011 Dear Friends, From the beginning of our marriage, my husband made it clear that he was disappointed in me. The first year or two, I cried a lot because Norman kept exploding at me for not being good enough. He called me stupid. Once he withheld a household improvement for a year because Id done something he didnt like. He was a hard worker, but changed jobs often. So Katie says that for years they lived a gypsy kind of life in whatever accommodations were available. He also made most of the decisions in our marriage. That was particularly true in matters of religion. He wanted badly to hold the right views. But every church we went to had some kind of flaw. The doctrine wasnt right, the preacher wasnt right. Id start to make friends in a congregation, then wed leave. When he formed a doctrinal conclusion, he tried to impose his values on everyone. Although he was never physically violent, Norm continued to take out his anger and frustration out on Katie verbally. We did have times of quiet fellowship and fun as well. But they usually vanished when I did something he said was stupid. Katie accepted Jesus Christ as Savior when she was nine years old. Although she belonged to a false religion for a while, her faith now was based firmly on Christ the Rock. But she felt as though she was the lowest and least in Gods kingdom. Later, I told believers in the house church where I worshipped that for years I felt as though I wasnt worth Gods notice. If Norm blew up because, for example, he found dust somewhere in the house, Katie just accepted his criticism and walked away. I never argued back because I realized it was a no-win situation. On another occasion, he asked if she thought there could be life on another planet. When she commented that there might be, he went ballistic. He told me that if we werent in agreement, our relationship was over. I learned not to contradict him because it could escalate into serious trouble. When Norm became a Messianic, Katie did as well. They celebrated Shabbat with the challah bread she baked, along with juice and lighted candles. The couple even began studying Hebrew. But now Norm kept hammering his belief that the Creators name was not God and the Messiahs name was not Jesus. Since I had been praying in those names, he insisted that He had never heard me. Even though Id experienced wonderful answers to prayer, I still questioned everything about my faith. She agonized before God. My faith had seemed so real and solid. Had it just been a fantasy? Had He been deaf to her prayers because shed called Him by a name to which Hed never answer? Maybe Id never known God at all! Maybe my quest for faith had been a futile act. It was horrible. I cried for days over the lossand I dont cry easily. Then she and Norman moved again leaving the friends whod been supportive. I felt like I was in a black hole. Everything was darkness and despair. In Septembers Healing Hope Newsletter youll find out how Katie was slowly transformed from that dejected and desolate woman to one who is radiant and bringing hope to others. Blessings, Marion Duckworth Katie and Norman are pseudonyms Visit my websites: <a href="http:<TT><A">http:<TT><A</a> HREF="mailto://www.marionduckworthministries@comcast.com">//www.marionduckworthministries@comcast.com</A></TT> <a href="http:<TT><A">http:<TT><A</a> HREF="mailto://www.healinghopeonline@comcast.com">//www.healinghopeonline@comcast.com</A></TT>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - June 2011

Tue, 07 Jun 2011 22:33:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter June, 2011 Dear Friends, When Stacy* was eighteen, she gave birth to a baby and gave her up for adoption. I felt that without question I had abandoned her. So I spent years trying to atone for what I believed was a horrible act. Although she didnt know it, abandonment was part of her family history. My mother was cold toward me when I was growing up. When I learned that shed been abandoned and abused herself but blocked out the memory, it made sense. To make matters worse, Stacys stepfather was not only distant, but sexually abusive as well. For five years after she gave up her daughter for adoption, she buried herself in every behavior she could think of to numb the pain. Finally, she began attending a house church. Eventually, however, it turned into a cult. For the next ten years, she tried to please God by living according to the groups strict rules. When they arranged a marriage for her, she happily agreed because she wanted to be obedient. Besides, I wanted to have lots of kids and make up for the one I gave up. But I couldnt become pregnant. So, my husband and I decided to adopt. But when a baby became available, her husband turned it down. So I lost another child. It was during that time that she slowly began to reestablish a relationship with her mother. Mom helped me get out of the cult and get a divorce. But Stacy was convinced that God had rejected her because of those actions, so now she felt abandoned by God himself. The idea of starting life all over was terrifying. But I completed my education and began teaching school. A counselor urged her to rethink her conviction that God couldnt be trusted because he hadnt treated her any better than people had. That process, however, would take several years. Meanwhile, God placed her in an apartment next to a single man who was also a school teacher. He eventually proposed and she accepted. My husband has been my rock. Four years ago, she went to a writing workshop. I knew I was supposed to write the story of the cult. As she did so, she began to gain healing insight. I realized that their teachings had become an inextricable part of me. Now, God was healing her, layer by layer. Sometimes I think Im never going to reach the end of it. When Stacys mom began slipping into dementia, she felt abandoned one more time. But I was able to forgive her for past mistakes and be glad for the relationship I was able to have with her now. For years, I was taught that limitations equaled weakness and weak people are unacceptable. Shes been learning that without Christ, everyone is weak in some way. I cant rely on my own strength. I need Gods help each day. In the July Healing Hope Newsletter, youll learn how that knowledge helped her survive one of the greatest tragedies of her life. Blessings, Marion Duckworth *Stacy is a pseudonym Visit my websites at: <a href="http://www.marionduckworthministries.com">http://www.marionduckworthministries.com</a> <a href="http://www.healinghopeonline.com">http://www.healinghopeonline.com</a>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - June 2011

Tue, 07 Jun 2011 22:33:00 GMT

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - April 2011

Sun, 24 Apr 2011 02:36:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter April 2011 ---------- Dear Friends, In the March issue, you met Jinny who was sexually abused until she was sixteen and raped at eighteen. The memories were so horrible that she blocked them out. When a Christian counselor helped her remember, she says she became able to forgive her abusers. I wanted to be done with it. It was when a friend asked Jinny to make up as a clown and entertain at a school party that she discovered how much she loved it. I enrolled in clowning classes. Since I wanted to bring people joy, I chose to be a white face, happy clownditzy and bossy. Opportunities to do clowning were everywhere. She performed at picnics, birthday parties and in parades, churches and grocery stores. Some kids are afraid of clowns so I greet them with a Hi and a little wave and wait for them to approach me. Usually, after a few minutes, they see that I am harmless and join in the fun. On a visit to the childrens ward of a local hospital, she met Kaipo, a Hawaiian boy who had the kind of round face that comes from taking steroid medicine. I asked for permission to enter his room and play with him. He was delighted when Jinny made balloons and did some funny business. She wore Jesus buttons on her costume as a subtle way to witness since the rules didnt allow her to talk about Him unless someone asked. When Kaipo showed me a planter friends from church had given him, I was able to ask if he knew Jesus. He smiled and said that he did. That makes us brother and sister in Gods eyes, she announced. He thought that having a clown for a sister was great! The next week Kaipo was gone, so Jinny told God shed really like to know what happened to the boy. On her way home from clowning at the hospital a few weeks later, she ran into a friend from his church. Kaipo, who suffered from a brain tumor, died shortly after he returned home. On another visit, she met a boy who looked to be about four-years old. I held out a mouse finger puppet and asked if hed like to touch it and he did. Then he smiled, reached up and touched the red heart on my nose, I made a silly sound. He smiled again. I noticed odd looks passing between the adults in the room as I waved goodbye. About a year later, I was in clown at a fundraiser when a couple stopped me. We remember you from the hospital. They were the parents of the little boy. I learned that he was nine years old, not four and that he was autistic. I was the only person hed responded to in that manner. When I told my mother this story, she said that if I never did another special thing in my life, this would be enough. I know it sounds odd, but sometimes I feel as though Im two people-- Jinny and Promise the clown. Its that way for most clowns I know. We are a lot more free and uninhibited as clowns. I was removing my makeup in a church bathroom after performing in a Sunday school when I stopped and studied my face. Id wiped half of the makeup off, so one side was Jinny and the other side was the clown. Jinny, you are cute! I said to the real me. It was the first time in my life I ever had such a thought! For years, she says that guilt and shame had a tight hold on her. But slowly, God has been helping her identify her good qualities. All the time I was using clowning to minister healing to others, he was setting me free. In the May issue, youll follow Jinny as she clowns in Uganda, Argentina and the Philippines. Blessings, Marion Duckworth Jinny is a pseudonym Visit my websites at: <a href="http://www.marionduckworthministries.com">http://www.marionduckworthministries.com</a> <a href="http://www.healinghopeonline.com">http://www.healinghopeonline.com</a>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - March 2011

Thu, 17 Mar 2011 19:52:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter March 2011 Dear Friends, Jinny never imagined that one day she would become Promise, the clown who brought smiles to the faces of kids from the United States to Uganda. I grew up feeling completely ugly and down on myself. Jinny had accepted Christ as her Savior when she was five and recommitted her life to him when she was twelve. When she became a teenager, however, all she wanted was for a boy to hold her and tell her that he cared. She wanted to be a good girl, but sometimes her desperate need to be loved was powerful. Shed been sexually abused during childhood but buried the memory for years. Still, she was experiencing emotional pain so she ate to make herself feel better. Her parents had tried to get her to lose weight by saying Nobody wants a fat girl. If lost weight, I thought maybe kids at school wouldnt tease me. So when I was eight-years old I took diet food to school. For years, her battle with overeating continued, It was when a grown up Jinny was curled up in bed in an African hotel room with her husband lying beside her, that the memory of her abuse returned. I knew Jim had nothing to do with it, but the urge to run screaming was almost overwhelming. The mental picture disgusted me and I blamed myself for the experience. In addition, she battled the thought that men dont have feelings, otherwise they wouldnt do such awful things to little girls. My husband is a wonderful Christian man. He couldnt understand why anyone would want to abuse a child. But I spent years trying to believe that he loved me because I saw nothing in myself to love. Yet I knew he wouldnt lie to me. Jinny prayed for peace and after the incident in Africa she made an appointment with a Christian friend in the United States who worked in a medical center and told her what had happened. She held me and prayed with me for the whole truthand only the truthto be revealed. Eventually, Jinny began to see a counselor who prayed with her at the start and end of each session. As more memories began to return, I did lots of crying because I had been consistently sexually abused and it continued until I was sixteen. Then, when I was eighteen, I was raped. Jim supported me during my healing process and has continued to do so during the four decades wed been married. Still, it took years for her to reconcile her conviction that men dont have feelings with the fact that her husband and sons are caring human beings. Over the years, she remembered more and more. It was like peeling an onion, layer by layer. After I uncovered the worst of it, I felt a lot better. As each memory surfaced, the counselor asked if I could forgive. I chose to do so because I wanted to be done with it. Besides, I realized I had to forgive or God wouldnt forgive me for my own sins. As a result of her experiences, she became a peace at any price person. God had to teach me to be balanced. If he wants me to confront something and I refuse, he gently nudges me until I do so. When God let her know that she was to forgive a now aged family member, she chose to obey rather than displease God. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest when I told him that I forgave him for anything bad that had happened between us. As soon as she spoke those words, Jinny recalls, the elephant lifted. When a friend who dressed up as a clown agreed to entertain at my secret pals birthday party if I would go to her sons birthday party at school as a clown, I agreed. When I got in costume and makeup, I discovered that that I liked being silly and in disguise. In the next issue of the Healing Hope Newsletter, youll learn how that appearance transformed Jinny into a clown of international renown. Blessings, Marion *Jinny is a pseudonym Visit my websites at: <a href="http://www.marionduckworthministries.com">http://www.marionduckworthministries.com</a> <a href="http://www.healinghopeonline.com">http://www.healinghopeonline.com</a>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - February 2011

Sun, 13 Feb 2011 02:26:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter February, 2011 Dear Friends, When Karen, who was unmarried, became pregnant, the babys father insisted that she have an abortion. He told me that if I had the baby, he wouldn't support either of us in any way. His threat left her unmoved. She would have the baby and she would raise it with the help of God. Karen treasured the time she was able to stay home with baby Jeff and dreaded the day when she'd have to go back to work. But she found the best day care she could, making sure her baby was safe and well cared for. My life was completely changed. I dropped Jeff off each morning, worked all day, picked him up afterward and did necessary chores all evening. On Saturdays, she cleaned, cooked, did home repair and played with Jeff. A fairly new Christian, she took Jeff back to town on Sunday so they could be in church. Karen enjoyed sports and fun with friends as well as hobbies and travel before Jeff was born, Now, her life revolved around the child she could have aborted in the time it takes to see a movie. His father kept his word. He did completely ignore his son and so did his family. But Karen also kept her word. She taught Jeff to work, play and pray. She cherished him and nurtured him and protected him as much as any parent can protect a child. Day after day, from his first moments, she spoke the words every child needs to hear, but often doesn't. "I love you, my son." For more than a decade and a half, Karen centered her life around the child she'd chosen to birth. She often said that her son was the greatest blessing of her life. Her choice brought with it sacrifice and indescribable reward. This miraculous, unique creation of God, no other human on earth could replace. No one was like him or ever would be like him, and he was her son. Blessings, Marion Duckworth Visit my websites: <a href="http:<TT><A">http:<TT><A</a> HREF="mailto://www.marionduckworthministries@comcast.com">//www.marionduckworthministries@comcast.com</A></TT> <a href="http:<TT><A">http:<TT><A</a> HREF="mailto://www.healinghopeonline@comcast.com">//www.healinghopeonline@comcast.com</A></TT> *Karen is a pseudonym I didnt expect a thank you note from Jeff, but I shouldnt have been surprised. Hes that kind of boy. Karen gave birth to a healthy son and immersed herself in caring for his every need during her maternity leave. In a way, my relationship with Jeff began the day his mother told us that she was pregnant. The baby's father insisted she have an abortion, but Karen quickly refused.. I'm not sure how it happened, but gradually I was dubbed "Jeff's grandma." Maybe it was because Karen called me "Mom." Since, Jeff certainly could use a stand-in grandparent. I was as proud as a mom could be of Karen for her commitment to her child. Naturally, I wanted to see them as often as I could. At our urging, when Jeff was an infant, Karen packed all the baby paraphernalia and drove hours for an extended weekend at our house. I held and rocked, fed and burped him. We took him to church and proudly showed him off. I had bonded with my grandson. On his first birthday, my husband and I drove to their house to celebrate. Minutes after our arrival, we were snapping photos of Jeff in his high chair with the chocolate birthday cake we brought smeared all over his face. I kept asking myself what else I could do for this stand-alone mother and her priceless heir. Send birthday and Christmas presents of course. Send Karen encouraging notes and exclaim to her on the phone over new photos of him playing in the sprinkler. Let him know what a big boy he was to go fishing with his mommy. Naturally, I'd followed his growth in inches and muscle as though he were my biological grandson. Still, I was doing so little and Karen was doing so much., on the other hand, stood applauding. How could I make myself part of his life on a regular basis as he grew into manhood? By now, he was going to school to learn to read. As an author, what came naturally to me was to write. So why not write him a grandma letter every month until he grew up? That, I vowed, was what I'd do. I realized now that I wanted to make a commitment to him, no matter how small. During the early years, my letters sounded like pages from a Dick and Jane first reader. I wrote about a funny puppy I'd seen and the snow fort neighbor kids build. As he grew, I had to remind myself to use bigger words and longer sentences and write about big kid subjects. I wrote about God, too, and reminded Jeff of his heavenly Father's constant love and care. His mother kept me abreast of his accomplishments with copies of report cards, school pictures, awards, newspaper clippings of contests he'd won and honors he'd taken as he grew older. I put them in an album, the way any proud grandmother would. I was proud to be Karen's "mom". I was proud to be Jeff's "grandma". Karen called to tell me that she and Jeff had saved every letter I'd written him through the years and compiled them in a scrapbook. I did so little, I thought. But I did do something. The other day I received Jeff's note of thanks after his college graduation. "Dear Grandma, Thanks for your prayer and support all these years. God bless you for yourkind heart." Those words were my reward. *Names have been changed A much older friend, I supported her decision completely and assured her that God would provide what she needed all along the way. But as the birth date drew closer, my words haunted me. Sure, God would provide, but he was likely to do so through people who were willing to help. It wasn't enough for me to applaud her decision to carry the baby and raise it. That was the easy part. But how else could I help, since I lived a distance away and didn't have much money?

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - January 2011

Sat, 22 Jan 2011 21:42:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter January, 2011 Dear Friends, Without God's help, Jennifer is sure that her twin daughters would be dead. "It was when they were in the eighth grade that a classmate told Deanna she was fat." From then on, Deanna and Dorina began to see which one could be more thin than the other." Before long, they were both anorexic and bulimic. Very secretive, they blackmailed one another to guarantee secrecy, saying things like: "If you tell mom, I'll..." They didn't dress warmly, either, hoping to burn calories when they got cold. "It was the most difficult time of my life," Jennifer remembers. Her husband Garrick knew what was going on but since he traveled for his job, he didn't see the nightmare unfold much and tended to doubt his wife's reactions to the twins' problems. Besides, since his family never dealt with emotional issues, he wasn't prepared to handle the roller coaster at home. "We had to deal with hospital admissions in the middle of the night. The twins had panic attacks at school and would end up in the E.R. But when I complained to God that my husband wasn't meeting my needs, he let me know that he never intended him to. I was to lean into Him." The girls didn't receive adequate counseling or treatment until after they were married. "God performed a miracle so that Deanna could go to an in-patient facility by providing a bed and the money to pay for treatment." Dorina joined a Christian group in college and met the man who became her husband. "Through his love and encouragement, she was able to climb out of the pit one day at a time. He has been a huge blessing to us all." Neither Jennifer nor her husband were raised in a Christian home. "I received Christ after my brother died when I was fifteen and Garrick has gradually been coming alive in Christ. We have begun having devotions together and he prays aloud with me for our family." When she felt as though she was at the end of her resources, she stood in front of the garbage can ready to throw her Bible away, give up and leave her husband. "But God led me to Psalm 78 where I saw my own rebellion, my self will and received new grace. For years, Jennifer has been teaching women what God taught her. "Christianity is not for wienies. You'll feel overwhelmed along the way. You'll cry and argue with God. Do not give up. Base your faith on God's Word and His character. He alone is able to lead us through the desert places. He is unable to fail." In addition to writing a column that runs on two websites and in a newspaper, Jennifer has co-authored two book on the subject of prayer and sixty devotionals for her church. In addition, she leads womens' retreats, workshops on prayer and is a widely published poet. "God called us to birth souls. That takes intimacy with Him, pain, sweat and tears. When you feel overwhelmed along the way, you'll cry, yell and argue with God. "That's the time to pray, listen, read the Word for instruction and obey." Both Deanna and Dorina have successful careers. They are serving the Lord." I am stunned at what he has done in their lives." Jennifer knows, however, that the Christian life is a battlefield. "I hope to go out fighting." Blessings, Marion *Jennifer, Garrick, Deanna and Dorina are pseudonyms Visit my websites: <a href="http://www.marionduckworthministries.com">http://www.marionduckworthministries.com</a> <a href="http://www.healinghopeonline.com">http://www.healinghopeonline.com</a>

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The Healing Hope Newsletter - December 2010

Sat, 18 Dec 2010 21:06:00 GMT

Healing Hope Newsletter December 2010 Dear Friends, Christmas wasnt a very exciting time of year for me when I was growing up. Thats because my chronically ill parents werent able to earn a living, so we existed on welfare. Gifts were scarce. One year, however, a Jewish lady on our block in Brooklyn took me to buy a Christmas tree. After my mother and I decorated it, I felt as though we were having a real Christmas for the first time. A few years later, when mama gave me colored hair ribbons for Christmas that she found for two cents each in a bargain bin, I was sure that was the best Christmas so far. I was a young teenager when my fathers endowment policy came due and my mother was able to buy me a bike and a camera for Christmas. Finally, I thought, Id experienced everything that holiday had to offer. But the Christmas after I graduated from high school and got a job topped them all. Now we could afford a special holiday meal and gifts. When I was twenty years-old, I became engaged to John and participated in his family tradition: making Christmas cookies. With abandon, we rolled out dough, cut shapes of trees and wreaths and spread them with red and green icing. My family never had money for such irrelevancies. As I contemplated the decorated tree with packages underneath and the tray of colorful cookies, I believed that my Christmas was finally complete. About ten years later, my husband John and I began attending church. The minister explained in his sermon that Christmas was not about trees and cookies and presents. Those things were merely glitter and tinsel to celebrate the event that changed history: the Son of God had been born in a stable in Bethlehem, Israel. The day I knelt by my bedside and responded to his words, my loving heavenly Father opened his arms and welcomed me into His family. The next Sunday morning, I walked down the church aisle to publically declare my newfound faith. My husband followed a few months later. New believers, John and I wanted to do something special to let people know that we werent merely churchgoers anymore; we were now Christians. It was John who decided that we should send out home-made Christmas cards that would communicate what was in our hearts. So we stenciled a gold star on the front of a four-fold sheet of ordinary green construction paper. Inside, we wrote the Bible passage that now had profound meaning to us: Unto you this day is born in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord (Luke 2:11). Several years later, John and I joined a home missionary organization and were sent to the Pacific Northwest. That first Christmas, we invited local kids to a birthday party for Jesus in this community that never had a church. After John told the Christmas story, we all sang Happy birthday dear Jesus, and blew out the candles on His cake. After we left rural work, I was waiting at a bus stop to go to my secular job and wondering how I could help forgotten people during the impending holiday. God reminded me of a nursing home two blocks away where the patients were either on welfare or had been released from the State Mental Hospital. A few days later, I stopped by and asked the director if any of their residents were forgotten at Christmas. Her answer was immediate. We have fifty-five forgotten people. So I baked cookies, bought other tiny gifts and put together fifty-five gift packages that my family and I delivered a few days before Christmas. Ill never forget what one man asked as I handed him a package. What organization are you with? Were not with an organization. We are your neighbors. His face lit up. We were neighbors giving to neighbors in the best tradition of the holy day. Each Christmas since, when I remember the excitement on the residents faces, I ask God to show me a way to replicate the experience in the state where I now live. I dont know what his answer will be this year, but I plan to wait and listen. I know he has something exciting in mind. Have a blessed Christmas, Marion Duckworth Visit my websites at: <a href="http://www.marionduckworthministries.com">http://www.marionduckworthministries.com</a> <a href="http://www.healinghopeonline.com">http://www.healinghopeonline.com</a>

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