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Whirlwind
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I have no idea why I am sitting here about to tell the world
about my situation, but maybe it will help someone.

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A little over a year ago I found myself back home, working two
jobs, single, feeling alone and pregnant.

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Now the reason for me being back home was so that I could save
some money so that I might be able to buy my first home. I was
working two jobs so that I could pay my current bills off.

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I also wanted to start a new career. I was a nail tech and an
intake person. I was 28 years old, a single woman longing to be
married but finding myself alone and pregnant which I thought
would never happen.

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My mother and step-father gave me the option to move in for one
year so that I could save a little faster. Well my year had
come to a close and it was time to go, if you know what I mean.

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One day I felt like I was sitting in a chair in the middle of
the room and looking above only to see the whirlwind of my
problems going around me. I was like “wow if I get pulled up
into this mess I’d just keel over.” Well you know what happened
next. Our words do have power because all of a sudden it seems
as though I became trapped in this whirlwind.

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I then began to give up until I remembered that God said that we
should cast all of our worries unto Him, so I began to pray a
prayer with all my heart. With faith I believed that He would
fix all of this, but I didn’t quite know how.

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The next day while working at the nail shop around 5 p.m.,
I began to tell a client of mine about my situation. After
crying all over myself at the end of her appointment, she gave
me a big hug and said that I was strong and everything would
work itself out. Now that was the last thing that I wanted to
hear. I was in trouble and needed major help.

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So by the end of my shift around 10 p.m. that client of mine who

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Charles Francis Adams was the United States ambassador to Great
Britain during the Lincoln administration. He had the habit of
keeping a daily diary. He also taught his son Brooks the value of
journaling his activities in a diary.

 . One memorable day, eight-year-old Brooks recorded, “Went fishing
with my father, the most glorious day of my life.” It must have been
a glorious day, for the next forty years Brooks repeatedly mentioned
it in his diary. It became a life-long memory.

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His father also wrote about the fishing trip. His own diary on that Read More