God Can and Does Speak to Children; Nancy Starts Talking; We Get Robbed

A life changing miracle happened while we lived in the little bungalow on Elk Street. One day I was sick and staying home alone by myself. I was sitting on the big bed Nancy and I shared. I began wondering who God was and where he was. I tried to trick Him by planning to think one thing, and then quickly changing my mind to think something else. But I soon realized, even then, that you can't trick God, that He was always one step ahead of me and working for my good. I don’t know how I knew there was a God, but I did. I think we went to church on Christmas and Easter...sometimes.

Maybe it was the experience with the “Sandman” that opened my heart to Him that day. But this time, sitting alone on the bed, I felt His presence draw near and impress on my heart that he loved me and he wanted me to love him and to be a teacher and to love and teach children. It was very powerful, and unusual for me, to know His Presence like that without ever having learned of Him in any formal setting. God can and does speak to children. And His gentleness, especially with children in need, is remarkable.

This encounter has formed the focus for my life ever since. Today to love God and His Son Jesus, and to teach and love children comes from the impartation that came from Father’s heart that day at home alone and sick. In the future when I was a teacher, I would pray for each of my students, that they would have an encounter with Jesus however He wanted to come to them, but to reassure them of His love even when they didn't yet know him.

Meanwhile my mom had many boyfriends during our growing-up years. We well remember one named Scotty who had a car he prized and wouldn't let us touch it. Mom took a photo of us in front of it. And now you can see it—but NOT touch! You can also see Nancy and I in front of the school where Nancy went. I remember going with Mom to pick her up from day care. She is too, too cute!!! Plus she got Daddy’s red hair that you can't see in this black and white picture.




She was very hard not to love, even when things were not going well. But one challenge was that Nancy was slow to talk. When she did tried to talk, she pointed to things. I was the only one who could understand her so they would ask me what she said. It was always clear to me. When she was 3 to 3 ½ she started talking so the rest of the world could hear her lovely voice too.

I don't remember how long we lived in the little bungalow, but one night we got robbed of all mom's money and personal stuff too. Mom, Nancy and I all slept through it -- a miracle. I remember the police coming the next day to get my mom’s report. She was pretty concerned. So you can guess another move was coming soon.