Are you deaf and blind?
Do you really even care? There are many voices these days trying to sound the alarm and most people could care less. Too busy to care or just don’t want to know. This causes most true believers to be loners. We are truly misunderstood. Our knowledge falls on deaf ears. Every now and then you may be able to share your knowledge and it is so exciting to do so until you find out they really don’t believe. I am not popular by any means. Most places I didn’t even fit in although I tried my best. I was not a leader by any means, except when I got older I would be the first on the dance floor and could get the rest of the crowd dancing. I had my own style and pretty much a lone dancer. I love dancing but don’t dance rarely at all anymore. I am hoping one day that when I get my new glorified body where I won’t be needing my hearing aids or glasses, to dance, dance, dance without getting tired or sweating. I hope that God will accept my favorite music artists if they should happen to be saved. I had two sides of dancing techniques. Carnal and Holy. Since I am deaf with hearing aids I still don’t understand the words but the beautiful voice and music especially from the 80’s.
I was born deaf on the 1st day of spring in 1962 in the City of Angels, Californa. I used to say at least one good angel came out from there. I wasn’t raised in Los Angeles but lived in quite a few cities in California until my family moved to Michigan in the summer of 1973. I have had 3 mothers, and one father. My first mother died when I was about 3, and I had a younger sister and an older brother. Then my father married the second time and begat a half brother and a half sister. I was sprinkled baptized in 2nd grade in Etiwanda at Sacred Heart Church where I also went to school there too for 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade. My 2nd mother realized I was deaf and not retarded like my father thought. And they didn’t have the technology back then that they do now. I wore a boxed hearing aid with a strap around my chest and a cord running to my glass earmold. Yes, I said glass earmold. One morning she slapped me across the face and broke the earmold in my ear. I didn’t let her know and rode to school with another mom and her kids. The school was several miles away. My ear became bloody of course. I won’t go all into every detail of all the abuse that went on. That is not what this blog is all about.
It is about my long journey to the truth of God’s word. Being catholic I wasn’t taught to read the bible. All I knew was that I loved to hear the organ playing and the songs that were played. I went to catechism and the most I remember about that was my holy communion book. Of course, I had a rosary and wore something around my neck with a saint on it. I think it was Joseph. I highly believed in the Ten Commandments and if I broke one I felt incredible guilt. I had a fear of God since a child. I just wanted to be good. I just wanted to please my 2nd mother so I wouldn’t get punished. Sometimes I wonder what I did so terrible as to deserve that kind of treatment. No child should have to. And some children had it worse than I. I was very very sensitive. Innocent. Hoping that, I was just dreaming a nightmare and would wake up soon. Nothing felt real. Even when I started going to public school in 4th and 5th grade it didn’t get any better. I didn’t want to go home, nor did I want to go to school, and I was afraid of God as well and or thought heaven was crying for me when it rained. On a positive note, I went to speech therapy and learned to speak. That was when it was found out that I was deaf in both ears and started wearing two behind the ears hearing aids. I mostly had problems with S’s and R’s sounds. Imagine trying to learn to say my own name. Stacey. Another word that was hard was Sister. Or R words that I pronounced as W words. My 2nd mother was responsible for that as well. One word that I had to practice was definitely my name. I hated my name. But now I love it and its biblical meaning. It means “resurrection”, One who shall rise again” and also, “Prosperous”. I seem to experience “One who shall rise again” more often than not. But more about that later.
As a child, I read a lot of Fairy Tales that in the end it would say “And they lived happily ever after.” I also had my Holy Communion book with pictures. One picture depicts Jesus (Yeshua) riding on a donkey with palm leaves everywhere. Talking about He came to save people. Usually, I was locked in my room as a child from the outside of the door. One day I was staring at the picture and said aloud to myself, “oh Jesus, please save me”. Like I said earlier while living in California before going to Michigan, I hated to face the kids at school, and I hated to go home to face my 2nd mother. And I also had a strong sense of God watching me.
So yes, I was a very lonely little girl with few friends who just wanted to find Prince Charming and live happily ever after. My father was a traveling salesman in California and left us 3 kids + 2 with my 2nd mother. But when he did come home, but not really giving us much attention, we knew we were safe for the time being. He acted like he didn’t know what was going on when he came home. But I could tell he knew. Carrying that invisible ball and chain around his ankle. I was very love-starved. My dad was always glued to the TV, and my 2nd mom was doing her own thing. Us kids were mostly outside playing. Or pulling weeds and got rewarded with Ice Cream in accordance with how many weeds we picked. It was my older brother, myself, and my younger sister. Not the other two, who were either not born or still young. I was always slow with just about everything. I knew how to read and write though. I was very good at spelling and reading. I learned to speak very well carefully punctuating every word. And even to this day most hearing specialists when taking my hearing tests, are completely amazed how I speak as being profoundly deaf. And I STILL do not know sign language. I only went to deaf school in Kindergarten. The next 3 grades were in a catholic school. I thought I was proud to be catholic for a long time. Even though by the time we moved to Michigan in 1973, we didn’t attend church as much. At first we stayed with relatives. My 1st mother’s kids stayed with my dad’s oldest sister, my aunt and 5 cousins. And my 2nd mother took the two younger ones (that was born of my dad’s blood) to her side of the family. My father and all 3 of my mothers were from Michigan. So we had a HUGE family. Mostly in Canada. French Canadians in Ontario. Predominately Catholic. There is a scripture I had read many years ago that stood out to me.
Romans 9:1-2King James Version (KJV)
9 I say the truth in Christ, I lie not, my conscience also bearing me witness in the Holy Ghost,
2 That I have great heaviness and continual sorrow in my heart.
Also this…It stands out to me as well.
For in much wisdom [is] much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow. Ecclesiastes 1:18
It is very true. I never thought I would desire to seek the truth of God’s word. But for some reason I always knew He was there. I have more knowledge than I would ever learn in any church. A few times I dreamed of scriptures than I knew not. And did not know where it was written until I would tell someone the dream and they showed me where it was written. I was thrilled!!! But I also say this in truth, it is a rare occasion to find another human being to share these things.
I will close this post for now and publish it. I feel in my heart while there is still some time left, maybe, just maybe, someone will understand. This message is for everyone. EVERYONE!!!! Time for a reality check. Concerning the scriptures above I pretty much did so much grieving. Now it is time to share to anyone who is willing. Good Night.