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My Testimony - Losing It All




In 1998, I believe God gave me a personal message of victory to teach me how I was to overcome depression (My Testimony - Time to Be Rebuilt).  God had delivered me from my depression by teaching me promises in the Bible.  As I went on to rejoice in my victory, I did not realize the real test was yet to come.

In January of 2001, my father passed away after a debilitating form of Parkinson's disease that caused dementia. This trial was finally over for my family, but a new one was on the horizon.  My husband, Pat, lost his job.  He had another job offer, but we felt as though God was opening doors for him to start his own business, something he has always been driven to do.  Initially, the business seemed to be growing and doing very well.  But, eventually things began to change. 

The next few years brought more trials, everything from termites to customers not paying their accounts, but Pat tirelessly poured himself into the business and we felt waves of despair and hope.  This was taking a toll on Pat and I and in the midst of all of this, my son, Patrick, lost his job and my daughter, Genevieve, experienced a very difficult break up.  I remember me and the kids sitting on my son's bed crying and petitioning God for his divine intervention. In November of 2008, granddaughter, Klara, joined our family prematurely - 5 weeks early.  Also at this time, Lydia and I were experiencing character assassination in our homeschool group and went through a period of deep loss and loneliness. I was clinging to the promises and words of encouragement that the Lord had given us. With so many hardships happening at once, it was very difficult to feel so alone.  (You can read more about this in my blog post entitled Thoughts on Homeschooling.)


As if this wasn't enough to deal with, on March 4, 2009, my brother's home was devastated by fire.  My son, his wife and baby were living there.  


The threat of foreclosure on our own home, our home that we had poured our sweat and tears into, was beginning to set in.  The inevitable was at hand.  Pat and I still felt that God was going to allow us to keep our home.  I felt as though, in my flesh the handwriting was on the wall; it was just a matter of time.  In my spirit, I saw us celebrating around the anniversary of becoming homeowners (which was in November).  I told God that I would invite everyone over to share His goodness and what he had done.

My daughter, Genevieve, and I felt a strong desire to claim what we felt the LORD had given us and pray for our house.  We felt as though the enemy was not to go any further.  A few Godly women came to our aid and offered their prayers at our home one morning.  My friend, Nancy, felt the LORD’s instruction to pray over the house specifically, and that evening, we prayed as a family in every room and around the outside perimeter – praying, reminiscing, and praising.  Our son, Patrick, joined us on the phone. That was April of 2009.  



At the end of that summer, Patrick and Daria felt the call to come back to Johnstown to look for a job.  The 3 of them moved into our house and we all struggled together.  I was reminded of the importance of a home and was determined to keep it.  We continued to faithfully pay our mortgage.  Pat and Patrick were both unemployed.  Surprisingly, we heard nothing more about the foreclosure until a year later.

Pat had officially closed the business and this was a huge financial strain on all of us.  Then, one evening in September my mother was not answering her phone.  I wasn't concerned because she was becoming hard of hearing and this had happened before.  After several attempts to reach her, Pat and I drove down to her house.  I used my key to get in and there on the floor was my mother, awake and unable to communicate in anyway.  My beautiful mother had suffered a stroke and there she was lying on the floor alone, possibly for hours.  My heart broke. This was devastating to our family.  We watched her struggle daily and eventually give up the fight.  There was no question in our minds that we had prayed that God’s will be done in my mother’s life.  We knew nothing could stop His will.  My mom went to be with the Lord and my Dad on September 7, 2010.


After I got home from a 24 hour stay at the hospital, the bank called to set up a time to appraise our home for foreclosure.  I was exhausted and had nothing left.  I was a full-time student, working at an internship, homeschooling and working to support our family. I felt as though I couldn't possibly think about moving every one of our belongings out of our house and crowding all of us into some tiny apartment.  Lord, is your grace sufficient? 

After my mother's funeral, I remember attending church with Patrick and Daria.  The pastor was talking about God’s great love for us.  When I came home, I angrily cried out to God in anguish,  “Lord, I know you love me, but we, as parents, know that we don’t just talk about our love to our children, we show it.  I NEED you to show your love to me.”   I remembered how we prayed for my mom, that nothing could stop God’s will.  Once again, I asked God to save our house, as I had believed he would.   

The following day, Pat and I could think of nothing else, but the grim fact that we would be packing up our belongings 2 weeks before Christmas, barring a miracle.  Oddly, I was making room in my cupboard for my mom's china and glassware that I had inherited.  Pat decided to call the bank, one more time.  Of course he had nothing to offer them.  Fortunately, no one picked up and he had to leave a message. While we waited a miracle happened.  A ridiculous idea popped into his head - would they take my mom's home instead of ours?  We didn’t know if this was a viable plan or what my siblings would say, but at that moment, I felt that our deliverance had come.  I felt a rush of God’s love overcome me.  I believed, as I always had, that we would be celebrating Thanksgiving in our home - thanking God.

The day before Thanksgiving came and I began to doubt that we would be celebrating, but later that afternoon, the bank called to say that they had accepted our offer, as crazy as it was.  Our lawyer confirmed the craziness of it and called it a miracle from God.  My siblings all agreed that they would like to help and sacrifice their share.  There was no doubt that God had come through in the 11th hour.  What a beautiful Thanksgiving we had celebrating God, two weeks before we were to move out.

The first week of January 2011.  Pat started a new job and we held a celebration party with friends and family at our house.  I shared my testimony as I envisioned that I would.  That day is forever imprinted on my heart.

God has really begun a restoration.  He has revealed to me who my friends really are, Patrick is working, has purchased a home and has a new son, Sebastian.  Genevieve is now married to an incredible Christian man and has a miracle baby Jonah (that’s another story), and baby Ivy arrived on February of 2015.  Lydia is flourishing at college. Our house is paid off.  My husband Pat is working in his field again and I am enjoying the life that God has given me.  Most importantly, we will continue to gather in our home, the home that will always remind us of the legacy of my parents.


I celebrate and give God glory.  I thank my friends and family for their prayers that moved mountains.

2 Corinthians 1:8-11 We don’t want you in the dark, friends, about how hard it was when all this came down on us in Asia province. It was so bad we didn’t think we were going to make it. We felt like we’d been sent to death row that it was all over for us. As it turned out, it was the best thing that could have happened. Instead of trusting in our own strength or wits to get out of it, we were forced to trust God totally—not a bad idea since he’s the God who raises the dead! And he did it, rescued us from certain doom. And he’ll do it again, rescuing us as many times as we need rescuing. You and your prayers are part of the rescue operation—I don’t want you in the dark about that either. I can see your faces even now, lifted in praise for God’s deliverance of us, a rescue in which your prayers played such a crucial part.


Special thanks to my prayer warriors - Mount Zion Church in CT, Kosciol Zielonoswiatkowy Zbor Betel in PL, and my beloved family and friends.

Find more in My Testimony - But Wait, There's More 

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