“When a man does a piece of work which is admired by all we
say that it is wonderful; but when we see the changes of day and night, the
sun, the moon, and the stars in the sky, and the changing seasons upon the
earth, with their ripening fruits, anyone must realize that it is the work of
someone more powerful than man.”
— —Chief Standing Bear
I have learned a lot-Someone more powerful IS in control. I knew that. But it is still always good to see HIM-my GOD-YHWH- in action. I have also learned about friendship and about support.
I have learned that some say they support-yet hold the knife, so you should not turn your back on them...(remember the saying keep your friends close and your enemies closer? It is true.)
I have seen that you will get support from those who want to see the midwife laws changed-who will fight with all they have to do just that. I have learned that you get support from those who want to see the government out of the family’s private business-and who do not want to regulate midwifery, but just want the government to stay out of the people’s business. (Wouldn’t that be wonderful?!) You will get support from many, for different reasons, but you will receive it from all over the world. It has been amazing. I have ‘met’ many, on line, many wonderful people. I thank all of you for your ongoing encouragement.
I have seen that you will get support from those who want to see the midwife laws changed-who will fight with all they have to do just that. I have learned that you get support from those who want to see the government out of the family’s private business-and who do not want to regulate midwifery, but just want the government to stay out of the people’s business. (Wouldn’t that be wonderful?!) You will get support from many, for different reasons, but you will receive it from all over the world. It has been amazing. I have ‘met’ many, on line, many wonderful people. I thank all of you for your ongoing encouragement.
The prayers from those people who support me--- have also been such a blessing.
Going thru this, going thru something tough-standing up for
others and their rights ---it does make me think-
--how many of you would stand up
for what you believe to be wrong, how hard would you try to make changes-, to
take that stand-no matter the price you may pay?
I have
been called a freedom fighter, a warrior, a law-breaker, a true friend, a strong woman, a woman of faith---a fighter for women, a fighter for families private rights, a trail blazer.
The day of my first hearing:
My daughter and
sister counted about 180 people in attendance and in support of me-even
though the newspapers only reported 100 supporters who showed up on that day. All of those people showed up in support and I thank them for that support.
GOD is still in control, and HE has exposed
the hearts of many. I am thankful that
HE has not left me. HE is still in
control of my life and I pray HE uses all of this for HIS glory.
So here is the rest of my story:
The cement is cold.
The strange thing is it actually feels good on my back and neck. My head is pounding. My blood sugar is way off, I can tell.
I think about how I will have to sleep this way. I am
not sure I can rest while lying down on this hard (steel) bench. It is actually more comfortable sitting up like this. The little mat they give you to put on the steel “bed” is not even long enough for a child. I would have to curl up into a ball to fit on it. I think about the freedom of having as many pillows as I want at home, and how that is not possible here. I do not even have one pillow. If I am to be here for some time-I will miss those simple freedoms. The thin mat is only about an inch thick, not thick enough to provide any type of comfort. It is also a weak mat, meaning, it does not seem to hold up so basically provides a barrier between the steel bed and me, of the thickness of a sheet.
not sure I can rest while lying down on this hard (steel) bench. It is actually more comfortable sitting up like this. The little mat they give you to put on the steel “bed” is not even long enough for a child. I would have to curl up into a ball to fit on it. I think about the freedom of having as many pillows as I want at home, and how that is not possible here. I do not even have one pillow. If I am to be here for some time-I will miss those simple freedoms. The thin mat is only about an inch thick, not thick enough to provide any type of comfort. It is also a weak mat, meaning, it does not seem to hold up so basically provides a barrier between the steel bed and me, of the thickness of a sheet.
Tears flow again….and I think of this:
“There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of
weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
Washington
Irving
I also remember this verse:
Psalm 56:8 says:
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your
bottle. You have recorded each one in
your book.
I think about all of my freedoms that are now restricted, taken away, and all because I am helping women with their rights to choose. I battle for rights for women and their
families. Now the truth will come out as
to if they in turn, will be supportive of my sacrifice. Or at least supportive
of me personally- their actions will expose all hearts.
I am a warrior.
I
have often been alone in my battles.
I
have always been willing to work in the trenches, even if I am alone, for
years.
The mission work I did was often
alone. I almost always-sat alone sorting clothing, I
often went alone-driving across the country to deliver the items---
I sat once before our pastor and elders of our church, arguing with them as they questioned me. They did not support me and what I was doing-because they did not see the numbers of those saved.... Sometimes its about trust before the harvest comes in. I got that. I always did. Others, did not.
I told them I would go alone then. I am accountable to GOD first. I would not
allow men, even if elders, to put themselves before GOD. GOD speaks to me-I listen. If I always go alone, I would rather blaze
the trail than follow the crowd in blindness. I KNOW what GOD said to me-and I alone am accountable for following HIS will or not.
I sit here alone.
GOD whispers to me-no you’re not alone.
I rest.
I pray.
I rest again.
The door opens and there is the female police officer I met
before--here to ask me something. I
again ask about: -- my pants that are too tight, and ask about a bible. I ask again about my insulin.
I do not receive my insulin, I do not receive a bible and I
do not receive a change of clothing that will fit better.
This happens a total of about 4 times.
I do not know what time it is. But I know I am not given a lunch. I am not
hungry, but as a diabetic-I have to eat something, even just a little-to
maintain a proper blood sugar balance or my body does bad things to my sugar
level. I also know I am not given my
insulin or able to test my blood sugar.
Stress does a number on my blood sugar….it is probably the cause of my
headache. My blood sugar is way too high because of the stress---but I cannot do anything about it. They will not let me.
I sit in solitude.
The LORD tells me some things, and some of it is not good-like the fact that some
whom I have called friends/family- will leave me as a
friend. HE warns me of that. But HE also tells me HE has not
and will not ever leave me. HE has called me,
and I am to continue to trust HIM, not to depend on humans, but only on HIM and
to listen closely.
HE tells me-other things, things I am not allowed to share with anyone at this time.... But HE warns me of what is to come with some....
So there I sit.
Waiting for someone to bring me news, to bring me pants that fit, to
bring a bible, to bring a note pad and pencil, to bring my blood sugar supplies
and insulin….I sit and wait-for hours.
The room has no window to the outside. There are no bars; it’s not like in the
movies. This is probably what they call
a holding cell. There is no way to tell
what time it is by the sun since there are no windows. It makes me wonder how dark it is in here at
night.
Will they keep the light on all
night? Do I get a say in that? If they
do, that would be too bright to sleep.
But with the light off, it would be complete darkness. I doubt that it would be as dark as if you’re
in a cave….I have been in a cave and had the light off, that is true darkness—I
wonder if that is the way it is in hell.
But for this cell, I am sure the light from on the other side of the
door will shine under the door. Funny
the things you think about at a time like this.
The door is a heavy door, thick steel. It has a small window-about the size of a
foot wide by a foot tall. It has a steel
door on it that they can open and shut to look in at us. It has a covering on the side of the cell so
the prisoner cannot reach the officer, but allows the officer to look in at the
prisoner.
I hear something at the door, and that little door inside
the door opens, and an officer I have not yet seen today, asks me if I am ok. He is obviously in a hurry, and begins to
shut the little door prior to my answer ---when I yell out a loud “”NO””
He opens the little door back up, and asks what is
needed. I tell him my leg is swelling enough
that if I do not get a different pair of pants I am going to have a big
problem. I also ask for a bible ---again. He does not give me any more time to ask for anything else, before he is shutting that little door-so I do not get to ask about checking my insulin or anything for my blood sugar.
About what seems like a half an hour later, I hear the door
opening-the big door-and that officer stands there with an article of clothing
in his hands. He says that he only has
one large size, and that they are very large, telling me they will probably be
too big-and there is no belt to hold them up.
He then throws them towards me purposefully to land on the floor. He could have just placed them on the floor at the
door (I understand for safety reasons they cannot walk in and hand them to me
nicely, but the attitude behind the action-was rude). He tells me that I can place the others on
the floor when I am done changing.
I ask
about a phone call to which his reply is that he will try to get the phone.
Once he shuts the door, I change into the other pants. they are in fact, way too large. They are so large that I have to constantly hold them to keep them from falling down. With no underwear on, that would be rather embarrassing, yet, they watch me use the bathroom so I guess I have nothing else to hide. If I would have to walk anywhere, they would fall down, and I guess the cops get a kick out of that-or they would try a bit harder to be sure your wearing something that fits. The sad thing now, the older tighter pair kept the feminine pad in place, these new ones, it just falls out onto the floor. I do not want to pick it up and use it again, its hit the filthy floor. so No pad now to wear.
Again I sit and wait.
No bible yet. No anything.
They finally bring food.
It is a mess of starch thick noodles mixed with a sauce and some mystery meat, (all things a diabetic can NOT eat) then white bread and corn. Really? All are things that I as a diabetic can NOT eat. Especially all together in one meal! With the way my blood sugar is (although I do not know the actual reading it is since they will not allow me to check it) I can tell my the migraine headache I have had that it has to be well over 350 close to 400. If I eat this meal, it will kill me. It would cause me to go into a diabetic coma! There is an apple and milk, so I ask the female cop who brought me in the meal if they have anything else like fruits and vegetables or just cheese or meat. She looks at me like you're kidding? She tells me no, and asks me what I usually eat. I tell her organic vegetables, fruit and meat---she again looks at me like I am nuts and says no. I tell her this meal will kill me. She leaves and comes back with a carrot stick that has been sliced so thin so it looks like there is more than there really is. I eat the carrot stick, apple, and drink the milk. Not the best but better than the rest of the junk. I will either loose weight here or die. I had asked this female cop earlier about my medicine and checking my blood sugar but again, they bring nothing so I can do that.
They finally bring food.
It is a mess of starch thick noodles mixed with a sauce and some mystery meat, (all things a diabetic can NOT eat) then white bread and corn. Really? All are things that I as a diabetic can NOT eat. Especially all together in one meal! With the way my blood sugar is (although I do not know the actual reading it is since they will not allow me to check it) I can tell my the migraine headache I have had that it has to be well over 350 close to 400. If I eat this meal, it will kill me. It would cause me to go into a diabetic coma! There is an apple and milk, so I ask the female cop who brought me in the meal if they have anything else like fruits and vegetables or just cheese or meat. She looks at me like you're kidding? She tells me no, and asks me what I usually eat. I tell her organic vegetables, fruit and meat---she again looks at me like I am nuts and says no. I tell her this meal will kill me. She leaves and comes back with a carrot stick that has been sliced so thin so it looks like there is more than there really is. I eat the carrot stick, apple, and drink the milk. Not the best but better than the rest of the junk. I will either loose weight here or die. I had asked this female cop earlier about my medicine and checking my blood sugar but again, they bring nothing so I can do that.
Finally a phone comes.
Now when I was put in this cell, remember they did not allow me to wear
underwear or a bra. After all, I might hang myself
with them. (If I really wanted to –I
could do that with the pants and shirt too!)
But they bring me a phone, hooked up to a cord…a really long
cord that reaches across the cell with some left over going out under the door. I guess they are more worried about me
hanging myself with my bra than this phone cord! There is enough cord here to wrap around my neck about
20 times. I could strangle myself
instead of hanging myself.
That is just
stupid. Really? Worry about a bra but not this? I am surprised they do not give a
cell phone with no cord!
I call home. It cost
10 dollars for 5 minutes. Finally Scott
answers.
We cry.
I tell him remember anything I say or he says they will use
against me, so do not say anything. They
are after all, taping the call. It is
not that I have anything to hide, but still-they will twist things.
Scott tells me everyone is there, (our children and their
families) and they are all trying to figure out what to do.
The call ends all too soon.
Then I am all alone. I sit for a
long time. It seems like a long
time.
They do not come to get the phone, so I sit with the
phone. Again, they must not be worried
about the cord, not like they are about the bra and underwear.
After some time, just holding that phone, I call again. It is the being lonely that is tough. I know
I am spending a lot of money to make that call, but I need to hear my
husband’s voice again.
Despite all of this, I have peace, true peace from GOD. I know HE is in control. I am not.
I am on the phone for that second time, and the door
opens. The police officer says I have
bail. I am very excited…I had thought I
would not have bail until Monday sometime.
I ask him how much, and he tells me a $10,000. dollar bond. That means $1000.00 to pay now. He asks if I have it, and I say yes. He looks sort of surprised, like he thought I
would not have that much cash or something. Teachings from christian men like Larry B and Dave Ramsey has paid off.
(they dont take checks, visa, mastercard or american express!)
I tell scott, and he asks what he is to do. I tell him I need a bondsmen, so ask Jeannie
who is at my house right now, as she knows what to do (she has been arrested
and knows how to help us with the decision of a bonds man)
I tell Scott where the money is, and how to get it, and tell
him to hurry.
I sit and wait now, but the wait is easier. I am getting out
and will sleep in my own bed tonight.
Later I hear the door open, and the officer tells me I can
change (in that little bathroom, I changed in when I first got here) and that I
am going home.
He escorts me out, thru a series of steel doors. I see my husband and son Nathan, and the
bonds man. I want to hurry out of
there…just get away from that place-to just run....
I sign the necessary papers….I am not really listening to the others talk. My mind is thinking of how I can really almost smell freedom. I know what that means now. I walk around the room and I look around on the walls in this room. One bulletin board has (I count) 78 photos of criminals ---all sex offenders ---for just this county. With a county of 37,000 people that comes out to be one KNOWN sex offender for every 500 people in this county.
I know that some may actually be innocent, but still I
think-why go after a midwife with that many sex offenders in the area? Dont you have a lot to do to keep track of them? If there are really that many that are in
this county that have been ‘caught’, think of the ones who have not being
caught. Plus, the drug dealers! The meth labs! Really…spend the tax money going after the
drug dealers and criminals that hurt women, children, with drugs, beating them,
all of that.
No, instead the streets are safe having one less midwife.
I walk back to where my son
and husband are signing the final papers.
I am now in their hands….instead of being a ward of the county, I am now a ward of my husband and son.
We walk out the door of the jail and across the parking lot. I want to run, but I walk...
I look over and I see the sun setting….the sight
is beautiful, I turn and walk to the truck and I cry….
