Most people doubt that God speaks audibly to us, and I used to be one of them. But I have changed my opinion about that. I have heard God speak audibly or clearly to me twice in my life (that I can remember).
A short backdrop to this story is necessary. My husband, Mike, began drinking when he was around twenty-three years old, after we left a church where he was being groomed to become a pastor by the lead pastor, and he was going to a Christian college. I'm not sure what happened, but one day he came home and said he didn't want to raise our children in that environment. I was a few months pregnant with our first child and the church environment was very legalistic. At the time I was happy about it because I didn't care for the church and some people there didn't care for me.
We thought it odd that we never heard from the friends we made there; but we wanted to let them contact us so that it wouldn't appear that we were spreading gossip about the church. A little over a year later one couple contacted Mike and we got together for Thanksgiving. They told us that the pastor, whom Mike loved like a father, told the entire congregation that we were backslidden and that if they saw us not to speak to us. Mike was crushed. I was angry.
Unbeknownst to me, Mike had already begun drinking. I figured it out the day we brought our son home from the hospital. Once he got me and the baby settled in bed, he said, "I'll be back in a little bit. I want to get you a little gift." He showed up that night drunk and with no gift. From there he began drinking heavily on a daily basis, And eventually added drugs and pornography to his lifestyle. He managed to be able to work and support his family, but he could not be the husband and father he promised me in our wedding vows.
Fast forward to the year 1999. Our children were 12 and 16, Mike was looking for another job. His previous boss that he worked for in San Diego County called him after Mike listed him as a reference for a job. I answered and Mike was not home. He said, "Tell Mike not to do anything until he calls me." I didn't know that they had moved their business to Las Vegas, Nevada, and it was thriving. When Mike got home I told him and he called the man. He got off the phone and told me the man offered him a job and the pay was far more than he had ever made at any job. I told him, "Absolutely NOT!"
We had just purchased a brand new mobile home the year before and our two children finally had their own bedrooms. They were involved in a good church youth group and Awana group, they each had their own sports that they played and refereed, our son was going to a Christian school and had good friends, I was homeschooling our daughter and she had good friends, and we were close to my parents and saw them often. No, we were NOT going to uproot our family.
Mike's potential boss recommended that we bring the kids for a weekend, paid for by him, and he would show Mike around the stores he owned and his wife would drive me and the children around the valley to show us it wasn't a horrible place. We agreed, but our son refused to go with us. He and our dog stayed with my parents. He was really angry about the whole thing. We went in September that year and the potential boss and his wife were very kind. The areas my daughter and I were shown looked very family friendly.
We got home and I started praying hard. I was in the habit of reading "Our Daily Bread" devotional every night and most nights the scripture used for that day spoke to my heart about the possible move in a positive way. At first I was kind of irritated, but then I thought maybe this was God's will. We hadn't told anyone about the possible move, but one Sunday after church our daughter told us that the youth pastor was talking about obedience and said, "What if one day your parents told you that you were going to move to Las Vegas? What would you do?" I was floored. So was she. From then on she was sort of on board with it. I finally told Mike that I supposed it seemed that this was God's will, so take the job. He was elated! Our son was still not.
Mike left for Las Vegas after Christmas to start his job. He stayed in his boss's Casita while there without us. I would get a couple of calls from him every day and I could tell he was super drunk. He was using the opportunity to drink and play while he was there alone and I was mad!
In April, during Spring break the children and I went to Las Vegas so we could look for a place to live when we got there after school was out and the house sold. We were to meet Mike at the entrance of the Stratosphere Casino and hotel. I pulled up to the entrance and there sat Mike on the steps so drunk that he couldn't sit up. I heard the Holy Spirit's voice, as plain as my own voice: "Keep going and go home. Don't stop." I didn't know what to do. And I could hear my mom saying, "He's your husband, pick him up." I picked him up. And we lived thirteen years of hell in Las Vegas, Nevada, eventually losing our home and having to leave family and friends to move to the Midwest.
It was just Mike and I and five dogs moving to the Midwest. Our son was married and living in California, our daughter and her boyfriend had bought a house and had a life in Las Vegas. I had to leave them both. When we got to our new town we had no place to live and knew no one and had almost no money. We stayed in a Motel 6 while Mike worked and I looked for a house to rent. A realtor relative told me that she knew no one who would rent a house to us with five dogs! I threw myself at the mercy of a couple of landlords and one of them had mercy on me. We moved in eight days after being in the motel with five antsy dogs and I had a major nervous breakdown on the way to the house. That was the first of many breakdowns and panic attacks I have suffered while living here.
We got settled into the house and Mike, into his new job. He continued to drink heavily; however, he did it mostly while I worked. I got a job after having to listen to him complain loudly about not having enough money. Instead of bringing the issue before God in prayer, I got mad and applied at a couple of places. Walmart called me first and put me in their deli. I worked there seven months and it was the worst place. My shifts were nights and weekends so the dogs didn't have to be alone much. I discovered that was when Mike was drinking. I also discovered he was stalking me while I worked. I'd look up from helping a customer and there he was, looking around a corner at me. On my last day of work I sat in the parking lot unable to force myself to get out of my car and go inside. I was having a full-on panic attack complete with atrial fibrillation. I called Mike and told him what was going on; he said go home and he would stop by Walmart on his way home and tell them I quit.
I have not worked outside my home since then, although the panic attacks did not lessen until I was given medication by my doctor. God blessed me with a home business making memory bears from the clothing of people's loved ones. For a couple of years I had more business than I could handle so I asked God to reduce it a little. Each year after that it slowed down until now I have no business. But I see it as God's will.
My dad died in December 2020 of Alzheimers. My sister had taken care of him by herself for years. She e-mailed me in February, 2022 that I should come to California soon so she could transfer the trusteeship for our parents home and estate to me and go over the finances because she wasn't doing well. We settled on April being a good time. At the end of February, my sister's girlfriend messaged my daughter that my sister was dying. My daughter called me and I made plans to go the next day and cancelled our previous plans. She died two days after I got there. I'm so thankful I got to see her, but she was unable to speak. When she saw me, her eyes opened wide, as if she was surprised I was there.
I stayed at my parents' house while I was there and expected to be there no longer than two weeks. After a quick search, I realized that I had no idea where the trust papers were. I figured they must be at my sister's house and asked her girlfriend if I could come over and search for the papers. She refused and would not let me in. I realized I was going to be there longer than two weeks and God place six weeks on my heart. I was there six weeks and one day.
It took me almost six weeks to do the work as the lone trustee of an estate who had no idea where to find the papers I needed and then go through every box and piece of furniture to figure out what to keep, what to toss, and what to sell. I had never done anything like that on my own. God sent a friend of my sister, after I found some papers, who understood what I was looking at and what I needed. My sister's best friend came over several times to help me. As did my best friend who lived nearby. There was some extended family who had no part in the trust who fought me over selling the house. One wanted me to just give her the house. I was forced to sell the beloved house because of the massive debt my sister incurred while caring for our dad.
The entire six weeks I was in my parents house, I felt an enormous amount of God's peace! When I walked in the house, I told God, "I am not afraid." And He honored that.
When I got home after my sisters memorial service and handing over the keys to my parents house, I realized Mike had been drinking the whole time I was gone. I found bottles stashed behind the shed and other places. I had been home a week or two when I clearly understood that I should tell Mike to move out, at least for a period of six months. That would give him time to figure out if I meant enough to him to quit drinking. Unfortunately, when I got home I was suffering from exhaustion. I was advised by my doctor and friends to rest. I took that time. Then Mike gave me COVID-19. We were still supposed to be wearing masks because of my low immune system, but he refused to wear one at work. He was sick for a week when I came down with it. I took the COVID test the government sent out and tested positive. When Mike got up I had him take the test and he was positive. He had a mild case; I had a bad case, but didn't have to go to the hospital. A few weeks later I was still feeling horrible. I had a friend who had been writing on her Facebook page about what she called "Long Haul Covid." I asked her about it and asked if she knew of a group for support. She did and it was on Facebook. I finally knew I wasn't crazy. There were so many people just like me!
Long story short, Mike and I still live in the same house. I still have Long Covid. I also have Fibromyalgia and Chronic Sleep Syndrome. In my research, I discovered that I have had Fibromyalgia for many years and that is caused by trauma in a person's life. I have had numerous traumas in my life, most happened after I married Mike. I also discovered in my research that Long COVID exacerbates any illnesses a person had before coming down with Covid. That explained not being able to stay awake (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome), the arthritis in every joint in my body getting exponentially worse, my asthma getting so bad that I could not speak a word without having a coughing fit, my atrial fibrillation getting worse, the tinnitus in both ears is awful, and the fibromyalgia getting worse. A new symptom also appeared: Brain fog. I have to work hard at thinking now. Words are hard to find. Conversations have me searching for a word that I can't remember. It has taken me over three hours to type this because of having to search for the words I want to say. And then there is simply my brain getting all swirly and feeling like there is a thick cloud in my head. I can't do the things I used to be able to do, or it takes me a long time to do them. I have about a four-hour window of some energy each day to get things done. I used to pride myself on getting a massive amount of work done each day. Then it got to the point where I could work hard for a couple of hours, then rest a bit, then get up and do more. Now I sleep late every day, get up and do what I can and about four hours later, I'm done.
I can't help but wonder where I would be if I had just listened to the Holy Spirit's still, small voice that day in the parking lot of the Stratosphere in Las Vegas, Nevada.
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