I Met an Old Friend Today

Over my birthday weekend, I spent part of a day perusing the first book that established my “old books” collection. The title of that special book is The Journal of John Woolman, with an Introduction by John G. Whittier published in 1871. 

John Woolman was a Quaker that lived from 1720 to 1772. He was born in Northampton, New Jersey, on October 19 of 1720. He discovered a love for God's Word so early in life that he recollects sitting beneath a tree after school as a young lad to devour the final chapter of Revelation, capturing a glimpse of heaven. I know Christian adults today who say they can't handle that book. In his adult years, he was known for two main things: his tenderness toward all people, all life; and his actions in exposing and subduing the evils of slavery. Emancipation for the slaves would not come for almost another 100 years, but his writings, including his Journal, his lectures, and even his business practices spoke loudly and effectively. He and another minister travelled in the North American colonies preaching and teaching, and everywhere he stayed, he would get to know the slave owners and discuss the moral issues with owning human life. More often than not he was persuasive enough that the slave owners would free their slaves! The Journal of John Woolman was a primary source of inspiration for rising abolitionists, which of course ultimately lead to full emancipation. Further reading tells me he was also an advocate for the Native American as well.

One Saturday, DH and I decided to go for a drive up in the mountains. We came across a little town in North Georgia called Talking Rock that has little more than a short strip of antique stores across from an old train station. In one of those quaint little shops, I picked up a small, plain-looking book with the name John Woolman on the front. I noticed it, put it down, and moved on. A few minutes later, it was as if that book was whispering my name, so I found it in my hands once again. 

When I first saw it in the antique store, I had no idea of its literary value; I had never heard of John Woolman. I had no idea it was listed as one of Charles Eliot's choices of literature which belong on the infamous five-foot shelf of a liberal education, later to become the Harvard Classics. What made me fall in love with the book other than my initial interest in its antiquity was this: I noticed as I flipped through the pages that I saw the beautiful Name of Jesus Christ on literally every single page I saw. The Lord of Heaven was so much an integral part of this man's life that His Divine Presence permeated his life's record. Oh, to have Him so pervade my life that way! 

However, in a true lapse of judgement, I left the book on the table on which I found it. And I left. I really couldn't tell you why; it was just $10. I suppose I tend to use "need" versus "want" as a decision-maker when it comes to spending money, and it wasn't a "need." Or so I thought.

The next week was Vacation Bible School at our church, and I was helping in one of the rooms full of kids. The other teacher in there, Lisa, and I got to know each other that week, and we began talking one day about something that reminded me about that book. So I told her about it. And by the end of that morning, I had decided that I would gather up my kiddos and head back up to Talking Rock to get that book!

And that's exactly what we did. All the way back to that remote little town, I prayed that it would still be on the top of the stack. Anyone who thought that highly and lived so close to the Lord's presence, I wanted to get to know - even if he did live 250 years before me!

I was elated with my purchase. The smell of the old pages captivated me, and the few underlinings with a dip pen transfixed me. Whoever made those underlinings throughout the book was left-handed, like me. 

In the front is this inscription: “Charles E. Shepard, Fond du Lac, 1873.” 

Today I got curious, so I got my Sherlock on.

Because if you didn't already know, Google is a very powerful thing. 

I discovered one Charles E. Shepard who lived in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, in 1873. Who knew there was such a French influence there? Turns out some of the same Frenchmen who claimed much of the extreme north of North America also settled in Wisconsin. Anyway, Mr. Shepard was a lawyer there for a time.

I found a scanned copy of the History of Seattle from the Earliest Settlement to the Present Time, written by Clarence Bagley in 1916. On page 587, I found that Charles' mother, Catherine Colman Shepard, was the granddaughter of Nathaniel Rochester, the namesake for Rochester, New York. Charles E. Shepard was born to Catherine and her husband (Charles E. Shepard, Sr.) in 1848.

Shepard Jr. attended the Dansville Seminary and Canadaigua Academy, followed by Yale University. He relocated to Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, in November of 1872, the year before dating my book. While he lived there, he joined a law firm with his brother and another attorney. During that time, he also served as the library commissioner (he loved books, too!) and was elected to serve on the state legislature for a two-year term. Charles married Alice Galloway in 1881, and two years later they moved to Milwaukee where he continued to practice law until 1891, when ill health caused him to seek out a different climate.

Shepard then moved to Seattle, where he soon recovered from his illness. He was very active for many years in Seattle, but I think it's interesting to point out that he was a candidate for supreme court judge in 1910, and although he was defeated by the incumbent, ran a very good race.

At some point, the Shepards moved to Spokane, Washington, where he died on March 31, 1928, at a well-seasoned 80 years old.

This is the man who wrote his name in MY book, y'all. He was 25 years old one hundred years before I was born.

I've had this copy of Woolman's Journal in my collection for over a decade, and I have studied the handwriting on the first page many times. I wondered who he was, where did he live, and what kind of man was he?

Even though it sounds contradictory, thanks to Google, I feel like I met for the first time an old friend today. Very pleased to get to meet you, Mr. Shepard. I will treasure your tiny book all my days.

Value of Life

Notes on Apologetics study from On Guard by William Lane Craig, Chapter Two, Part Three

(*Use the "On Guard" category to the right to see all posts related to this book*)

Recap: Chapter Two of Craig's book is entitled "What Difference Does It Make If God Exists?" In this chapter, Craig asserts the logical conclusions that follow if God does not exist. Based on what we know about energy and the nature of the universe, and since all life had a beginning, it is inevitable that all life will eventually cease. If all is doomed and there is no life beyond death, then ultimately, life has no meaning, value or purpose. All things done (good or bad) will ultimately become nonexistent. Here is a link to a rather helpful article regarding the first and second laws of thermodynamics and the impending "heat death" of the universe.

In my last post on this chapter, we looked at the meaning of life in this regard. If everything in the universe is to ultimately meet its utter end, then life itself is objectively absurd, and thus has no objective meaning. This creates a problem for the atheist because he can live neither happily nor consistently under this axiom. Just because a person ascribes his or her own meaning to life doesn't make it true.

If you ascribe a certain meaning to the universe and I supply a different meaning, which meaning is correct? Remember we are talking about objective truth, not subjective truth. This is a "what is two plus two" question as opposed to a "what is the best flavored ice cream" question. One is true in reality (applies to all people), the other is a personal opinion (a personal truth). So if you and I each ascribe a different objective meaning to life, which one is actually correct? To the atheist, the answer of course is neither; the universe without God is objectively meaningless for there is no one outside the universe to impute that meaning.

This brings us to the next section of the chapter dealing with the value of life. In a previous post, I shared with you that Craig defines the value of life as having to do with good and evil, right and wrong. The value of life refers to our moral ethics...how do we know what is right and wrong, and how should we behave because of that knowledge?

"If there is no God, then objective right and wrong do not exist. As Dostoyevsky said, 'All things are permitted.' But man cannot live this way. So he makes a leap of faith and affirms values anyway. And when he does so, he reveals the inadequacy of a world without God." (pg. 42)

Under this banner of "all things are permitted," we are subject to all kinds of living hell. Rape is no longer a violation; child molestation is nothing but a fetish, a preference. The most heinous murder is in reality just as morally justified as paying it forward in the drive thru. Sound ridiculous? But if there is no God, then there is no one to define ethical absolutes. All things become subjective. Nothing is right. Nothing is wrong.

The problem comes when we must admit that there are certain things that seem "right" to us. Craig uses several examples to show this, and one of those is modern atheist Richard Dawkins. "For although he says that there is no evil, no good, nothing but pitiless indifference, he is an unabashed moralist." (pg. 43) He condemns all manner of offenses against homosexuals, indoctrination of children, etcetera ad nauseam, but is apparently blind to his own inconsistency of ethical relativism which says that there can be no absolute right or wrong.

Just as in the meaning of life, I can say what is "right" for me, and you can say what is "right" for you, but that doesn't make it intrinsically right or wrong. If it did, we could easily justify the brutal rape as a moment of intense passion and wanton desire. Child prostitution could be argued to be as innocent as teaching grooming or good table manners. Thievery is not "wrong" but simply a symptom of need. All things are permitted.

Most atheists can not and do not live under such pretenses. They still see some things as intrinsically good and evil, but do not want to admit that someone must be the definer of such concepts. We have already established that man cannot adequately be that definer - that leads to "might makes right." Who else but God?

Discussion question: Imagine a world where everyone believed that moral values and duties aren't real, but are just subjective illusions. How would it affect our legal and justice systems? Countries involved in warfare? Our social relationships? World business and commerce?

Without moral objectivity, the laws which govern our legal and justice systems would need to be constantly evolving and morphing as the culture moves through moral relativism. I believe this is the single most often used tool in the arsenal of the social liberal. It's the reason we take so many polls, surveys, and social media quizzes. This is how we (as a society) tend to find out what is "morally right" on many issues.

Apart from a God who provides moral objectivity, we are left to decipher for ourselves what is right and wrong. So if society says that homosexuality (social relationships) is acceptable, then under this banner of subjectivism, laws should be changed to reflect that. If enough gather together to say that perverted relationships with young children are acceptable, then it's time for the laws to change again. Should society (even a relatively small portion of it) decide that our government should be trusted enough to provide for our every need - even in exchange for personal freedoms - then the very foundation upon which this country was built would be ripped from its place in society and be replaced with whatever our culture has bought next. That's a very unsettling thought to me, but I fear it's where we're headed.

Countries involved in warfare would be governed by the same "might makes right" mantra, which always leads to the oppression of those who are not in charge. In thinking about the Middle East region and the war over land in Israel, my mind immediately is drawn to Israel's determination to strategically target the known safe havens of the enemy only after they can confirm there are no civilians in the area. Their respect of life is owed to their respect for God. If they were to operate under "might makes right," then they would behave more like their enemy...who seeks out death.



Next time: Purpose of Life

Heavy Heart Lifted Up

I was reviewing some of my older posts tonight and came across this one. I was startled at how much this describes where I am again emotionally and mentally...perhaps even more so now than when I originally wrote this.

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Do you ever feel like you have so much wadded up inside that you just can't sort it out to even begin to explain it?

That's how I feel right now. I feel this "thing" inside that needs to get out; this desire to release all that is in me, but it's so jumbled up I can't sort it enough to make sense to anyone else. So I'm going to attempt to write it out so I can get it straight inside, too.

This is what happens when one turns her creative outlet off for too long.

I am overwhelmed when I read the news or (heaven forbid) watch the news on TV. The things people will do to each other...children to their parents, parents to their children, husbands to their wives, strangers to neighbors...it's enough to make me sick. It seems like every time I read the headlines, it's about someone's murder, rape, or child abuse. And it seems to keep getting worse.

Then as I mentally look around at just the people I know, most of whom are believers, there is so much hurt...everywhere. Marriages that are hanging on by a thread or, worse, are already laying in the rubble; rebellious teens making poor life-altering decisions; lonely people, good people, but aching for companionship and adventure and looking in all the wrong places; recurring addiction battles of all kinds; single parents exhausting every resource just to make ends meet and still find time to spend with their kids; a family turned homeless overnight because of a house fire.

I could truly go on.

These are the things that the world looks at and says, "How can God be loving and merciful and kind and still allow these things to happen?"

If I were to stop this post here, I'm afraid that's where I would be left myself.

That question is a very natural question, coming from a natural mind. In other words, it's a question that comes from a carnal mind. Earthly. Human. Because when we evaluate the perspective of that question, its source is from man only. It's as though our mind is saying, "How can God let this happen to US, to ME?" It's a human-centered question.

Perhaps the question could be better answered by understanding that the responsibility of the heartache we see is not resting on God at all. When we angle our minds a little differently and set the focus correctly, now we can see more clearly. The source of the heartaches is our own nature. If our flesh is riddled with sin (and it all is, without exception) then what we see is simply a byproduct of the sinful nature. Could we possibly expect Utopia, or anything like it, to come from a world full of sinful creatures? Impossible!

And what about the things that happen that are not self- or man-inflicted? What about the family who has endured a house fire and now literally has nothing but the clothes on their back? What about the husband suffering from deep depression because of the loss of his wife?

In Genesis 3 we see God tell Adam that because of his sin, the earth is also cursed. This included all of creation on earth, and therefore includes things that we cannot necessarily control. Things like the effects of time and disease that ravage our bodies, and fire that consumes our homes.

It's no wonder that Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

He doesn't give as the world gives because the peace that the world offers is always temporary and subject to circumstance. His peace comes to His own regardless of circumstances. So He encourages us to not be disturbed and afraid when we see the whirlwind, the waves, and the deep dark waters that threaten to swallow us whole.

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)




For those who don't belong to Him, it's impossible to find comfort in these words. There are also bigger issues to be concerned about in that case; issues of eternal significance. But for those who are His, we have to come back to the truth of His word, His promises. He has left us His peace, and it surpasses all human understanding. He has overcome the world, we just haven't seen the ramifications of it yet because sin is still present in the world.

One Day, all that's going to change. Oh, I can't wait.

If you read my blog and have shared with me in your burden, please don't read this and think I'm overloaded with all there is to bear. Christ bears all, and I walk freely beneath Him. I count it an honor and privilege to share in lifting up others in prayer and petition for these very heavy loads. I cannot pretend to carry them any more than you can.

I'm just noticing a great rise in troubles and fears, both in the world and in the body of Christ. Sign of the times? Maybe. Part of life in a sin-ridden world? Definitely. Reason to panic? Not hardly.

Contemplations from an Emergency Room Visit

I'm sitting in the Emergency Room with my mother in law. She is having trouble with her kidney, and it's wreaking havoc on her entire body. She's swollen to twice her normal size it seems, her energy level is shot, and she has this mysterious cough that won't go away - her constant companion of six long months.

It's the middle of the afternoon, and the room is full to the brim; coughing, moaning, and a general feeling of malaise fill the air. Patients are lined against the walls in wheelchairs, stuffed into every corner and crevice imaginable. Some are pushed up to small tables as they lay practically prostrate across the table trying to mimic the rest that will never come.

When I survey those around me, there are those who are obviously hurting. Some are coughing uncontrollably, puking into bags, buckling over in pain. Many are clearly weary and aggravated, others are so exhausted and drowsy they can't keep their heads up. There are some holding a compress to contain the blood, but of course they are helpless to stop it entirely.

My heart hurts looking around here. There's a grandmotherly lady who is so sick, she can't hold her belongings to herself and keeps dropping things, powerless to pick them up. I know my mother in law is nervous about me picking them up for her, as she's been hurling into a plastic bag all afternoon. In between her heavy breathing, she always mutters, "Thank you, baby." There's another man here with some sort of autistic-type of social disorder. He falls apart if the nurse moves him to another spot other than the one he was in. He's here completely alone. Another grown man is holding ice to his forehead while he rocks himself for comfort.

Conversely, a good many appear "normal" on the outside. The only way I can tell they are patients is because they are in the transport wheelchairs. But it occurs to me that they are here for a reason...surely they have other things to do on a Wednesday afternoon. Their signs of illness are hidden to my eyes, but just as dangerous and debilitating as the others. Perhaps their impetus includes unexplainable pains, spiking fever, kidney malfunction, or internal bleeding. I know from hearing them talk that there is one who has acid reflux burning his insides and another whose blood sugar is plummeting.

One thing they all have in common: ALL of them have no hope for a room.

The hospital is full, and every room in the ER is equally occupied. They have patients waiting to get into a hospital bed, but until a regular room opens up, they can't leave ER. This leaves a gridlock in the waiting area.

This has me thinking.

What does God see when He looks at mankind? Broken people, hurting. Emotionally nauseated and spiritually dehydrated. Weary and troubled from the heavy burden and the rugged road of life. Drug addiction. Violence addiction. Skin addiction. Some ailments are outside, evident. Most are inside, and the outward expression of it is masked, hidden from view.

The internal ailments are just as debilitating as the external ones. Lust for power, pleasure, or possessions can be undetectable to a casual observer. Pride can escape the scrutiny of a human bystander. Evil thoughts are imperceptible to others. Anger and hatred can be harbored in the heart, unseen by mere mortals. Self-centeredness has been an effective tool used to break up churches and families alike.

We all suffer from a different combination of afflictions, but one thing is common for us all in this life: we have no hope for a place of rest.

This hospital room is a tangible narrative of the plight of all mankind. We are without treatment, without a cure for our maladies. And without a hope for rest and freedom from our infirmity.

Until.

Until the Great Physician peruses the wheelchair-filled halls. He approaches each patient, kneels down before them humbly, smiles tenderly, and offers His Remedy.

He provides us His healing balm, not just a bandaid or a pain pill to numb reality. He's got the true fix. The only medication for the hurt that always leads to death.

Sadly, so many will turn Him away. They don't understand the healing power He is offering, or the outrageous price of it, so they stick with what they know. They continue to try to manage the pain, the addiction, the restlessness on their own.

They are completely unaware of the astonishing relief being furnished.

“It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”  C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Equally, those who would refuse this treatment are unaware of their inability to pay for it. For this Remedy is exceedingly expensive and precious...but unlike most earthly things which are expensive because of their rarity, this gift is abundant. It is rare in the sense that it has only One Source, but that Source is inexhaustible. He is a never-ending supply of life-giving water.

"...but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." John 4:14

And those who drink from it will find the peace, rest, and comfort for which they have so longed.

Cloudy with a Chance of Fluster

"I just don't feel normal. I miss feeling like myself."

"I'm much more irritable than I used to be; everything seems to grate on my nerves."

"I can't seem to keep my focus; my attention span and decision making skills seem to have digressed to that of a 12 year old."

"Why can't I stay motivated? I used to be involved in so many things and never had this much trouble staying organized and on task."

"I don't seem to have any energy. I'm tired all. the. time."

"Where is my brain?!"

I'm going to allow myself to be vulnerable for a minute.

These are comments and thoughts I've had for the last year or more, and I had no idea what was causing me to feel this way. I have avoided committing to anything extra because I didn't feel like I could handle anything outside of my normal responsibilities (home and homeschool), and even in those I felt like I was drowning. Things were constantly not being completed (think easy things, like laundry and meal planning), usually because I ran out of time. When one afternoon I noticed two hours had passed since I sat down to plan a week's worth of meals - and I still wasn't done - I realized something was wrong. Why couldn't I stay focused? What is wrong with me?

And that's why I want to write this post. I honestly thought there was something wrong with me, as in this is something I needed to fix. But I couldn't fix it. At least not by will power alone. I prayed in tears for God to fix me then. I can't do it...please will you help me get myself together? Truth be told, I wondered if He heard me because I continued in my plight. But not for long.

Something that had never occurred to me was the idea that perhaps these new issues were stemming from hormonal changes. I knew changes were coming, but I hadn't had hot flashes, skin issues, libido changes, or any of the other typical menopausal experiences I've often heard about.

Every woman is aware of the inevitable blight of menopause. We begin hearing of this impending dark cloud somewhere around puberty, and even though to a teenager it seems to be light years away, it slowly encroaches on the active, healthy, middle-aged female like a bandit.

But what baffled me is that I am likely a good decade away from menopause...so what in the world is going on in me?

After a complete melt-down during which I hit rock bottom in my bewilderment and near depression, I did what any logical, prudent, and desperate person would do. I googled it.

What I found absolutely astonished me. I found article after article, blog post after blog post written by women who have experienced the same things in their early 40's. One blog was even entitled "The Perimenopause Blog - Yes It's Real, and No You're Not Going Crazy!"

OH. MY. GOODNESS. You mean I'm not the only one? I'm really not losing myself?

I saw a list of 35 possible symptoms of peri-menopause (which typically begins manifestation during the early 40's), and I was experiencing 19 of them! Increased headaches (particularly migraines I've seen listed elsewhere) was one symptom listed, which I have had periodically over the last several years (maybe two or three a year). However, last September I had the heavyweight champion of all migraines in my estimation. This dude landed me in the emergency room with stroke-like symptoms, complete with slurred and garbled speech, droopy face, weak right side, vertigo, and double-vision. It turned out to be a six-day-long Complex Migraine without a headache. Go figure. I like to refer to it as the kick-off party for this whole peri-menopause thing. That migraine occurred over the week of my 41st birthday.

During a conversation with a dear friend (my sister for all intents and purposes), she mentioned to me that at a recent doctor's visit with another friend who is fighting leukemia, the doctor discussed a possible magnesium deficiency with the patient. Our cells use magnesium to build their cell walls and to generate energy, among hundreds of other functions. As I began researching this, I discovered that magnesium has historically been most commonly consumed through our water supply. However, with our typical city water supply systems which include the addition of fluoride, the body is unable to absorb whatever magnesium might be in our water because fluoride is an inhibitor to the mineral absorption.

So I went to the natural food health store in our area to find some magnesium. I had read that there are multiple ways to take supplements of this mineral: in capsules, oil, powder, or in magnesium bath salts. I walked into that store with the intention of finding the powder form (I could spread my dose over the course of the day and thus improve absorption) and the bath salts. The salts allow the body to absorb the mineral transdermally (through the skin), which means it is even more readily absorbed into the system.

Here's what I want you to see. All these things happened within days of each other, and they were all leading up to this:

I walk into the store, and immediately to my left is an attractive, older woman with a table of products in front of her. We made eye contact and smiled, and she asks if I would be interested in any of her bath salts she's promoting.

Well. I came in looking for bath salts.

None of hers were magnesium salts, but it started our conversation. I told her what I was looking for and why, and she immediately said, "I've got JUST the thing. Come over here."

She took me to the vitamin/mineral supplements part of the store, and showed me this.

Information about this product.

Now let it be known that I am no health professional nor am I selling this stuff. I am just a satisfied customer that feels like I've struck gold. There's enough to share, so I'm putting it out there for anyone else who may have been desperate enough to google or click through facebook to read this.

This product is a combination of different phenotypes of maca root, a naturally harvested root similar to radishes that grows high up in the Andes Mountains of Peru. The Peruvians have been using this as a supplement for hundreds of years. When it is harvested, there are several colors of this root, each color a distinguished type of maca. Each type is an aid to the various issues that arise in our bodies from going through this transitional period. This product combines certain phenotypes of the maca root that, quite literally, get to the root of the problem: hormonal imbalance. Only the beauty of it is that it doesn't add hormones to my body; it stimulates the glands that produce the hormones I am already making. Thus, it helps my body to pick up what it was slowing down, and my body is regulated again.

I've only been taking this for three weeks, but I can't begin to tell you what a difference it's made. Most of my symptoms were internal, i.e. brain fog, inability to concentrate, extreme fatigue, anxiety and depression (probably from the constant reminder of failing to accomplish tasks), trouble sleeping, night sweats, etc. Now I am able to stay on task (look! I wrote a blog post!), my to-do lists no longer overwhelm me, I can think more clearly, I actually have energy all day, and I haven't awoken with a single night sweat since I started.

Do I believe that my God heard my cries? As a matter of fact, I do. Did He orchestrate all these things to come together so that I would meet this woman (who doesn't normally work at the store, by the way...she was a vendor) who could show me exactly the one thing that could help right from the start? Yes. Yes I believe He did.

Additionally, in our discussion about my lack of sleeping, she showed me another product that she uses for the same thing. She said she had been an insomniac for years, but she started taking this to help her relax enough to sleep better at night.

Care to guess what it is?

It's a magnesium supplement.

Turns out that magnesium also helps your muscles release tension so you can relax. And relax I do. I have taken this every single night for the last three weeks, and I have never slept better. It's not like a drug-induced sleep; it's more like, "Okay, my body is relaxed and I am ready to fall asleep." And comfortably sleep I do. I wake up feeling refreshed and revitalized, which is something I hadn't experienced in over a year.

Since then, I have been intentionally asking my friends when I see them if they have felt the same way. EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON I've asked has related to this phenomenon. But nobody talks about it! One friend I spent the afternoon with recently is post-menopausal. It had been a while since we'd seen each other, so as I described to her my last year, she immediately said, "Sounds like your hormones are out of whack!"

Indeed.

But now I feel better than I have in a long time...and I believe it has only just begun. The information packet that comes with the Femmenessence says that the benefits of the maca continue to bring your body to a proper level for about four months, at which time I should be running optimally. In less that one-fourth of that time, I'm already feeling this much better! I cannot thank my Lord enough for the revelation He brought to me. In the vast sea of natural and synthetic products out there, He pointed me to the very one that could help.

Once again, my God did not fail me. And once again, I am singing His praises!

Perhaps you're here because you feel the same way I did. Every person's body is different, and no one thing can possibly be a cure-all for every person and every symptom. But if nothing else, I pray that you now feel like you've got a place to start. For me, the place to start was also the end of a very dark tunnel.

And for that, I am so thankful.