The idea for HIS Story started way before I wrote it; there were plenty of notes to choose from while preparing this anthology of God’s interventions, messages, and messengers. The motivation for this book is below.
It’s easy to be uplifted by another’s tragedy because, as an observer, you suffer less pain than the victim. For the most part, your body and soul experiences the inspirational part of their misfortunate circumstances. Rarely, does the spectator wish to be the suffering soul but the witness gets to live vicariously through the other person’s adversity. These stories are important to share because they help humans keep faith, hope and love alive in their lives. For years, I wrote about others’ deaths, near deaths, and triumphs over trials and tribulations. In comparison, my life felt like a “cake walk.”
After breaking my upper arm and getting a partial shoulder replacement, I faced my moment of true faith. After years of writing, compiling, editing, ghostwriting and co-writing others uplifting narratives, where their hardships turned into triumphs, I suffered my moment of trust in God’s plan for my life. About thirty days after my upper shoulder replacement surgery, my physical therapist sent me to my surgeon suspecting an infection at the site of my operation. Having a trauma surgeon and it being Friday, I had to enter his world through the emergency room or slowest possible method.
Four to five hours later, the ER doctor excitedly said that if my arm was infected that the apparatus (unspoken=arm) would be removed to save my life. Racing in my room, my doctor’s intern scurried around taking pictures with his cell phone of my swelling; he ordered blood tests and scans to detect infection. The man agreed with the ER physician’s prognosis before disappearing. For hours after the tests, my mind wandered through the “what ifs” of my situation. In the end, all I could do was cling to the end of my rope and pray.
Hours later, my surgeon’s associate came down to the ER. He was visibly and audibly upset but not at my arm. That man seemed livid at the staff for starting antibiotic before the test results warranted them. After explaining himself and my condition to me, that medical associate sent me home without scheduling surgery because my arm was NOT red hot because of infection. Many other things happened in the ER during that more than nine-hour ordeal but I left with my left arm still attached as well as facing months and month of rehab. In short, my silent prayers were answered.
As a result of my ER minor miracle and inspiration, this book idea developed. This is a collection of stories from years of talking with people about their relationship with God. It runs the gamut from the power of prayers as well as living life filled with faith, hope, and love. This book contains stories and short prose from various walks of life. It, also, has “one liners” or more text from online chats and discussions.
No author names are used. For the most part initials are inserted in the stories presented because these testimonies were penned by God’s Word then portrayed or witnessed by humans and other beings including angels and saints. It’s not good to eat too much honey, nor is it honorable to seek one’s own honor. (Proverbs 25:27) In other words, no one is special except the source of these accounts-God.
For the most part, these testimonies are small and larger miracles. Their inspiration evolves from the interaction between God and our human spirit. He intervenes when situations appear to have lost all control providing clues that He regulates the outcomes of these events, dreams, and visions. The results include encouraging tales and “silver linings” that attach to those hardships. As a human, our control is our reactions to such harsh conditions. In other words, the soul involved in the drama can find the inspiration that leads to faith, hope, and love or choose an alternate path that may lead to a feeling of abandonment or depression.
Through good and especially bad times, God offers guidance. When accepted, the types of Divine interventions included in the text of this book reveal the depth of His daily interaction with humans as well as the depth of His caring. Furthermore, sometimes, tragedies startle us enough to promote or reawaken our faith in a Higher Power; they may urge a soul to grow stronger in trust in the Divine plan of life. The goals of this inspiration anthology are similar. May the reader grow in peace and trust through faith, hope and love as presented through the undercover witnesses in this compilation.
Furthermore, “For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.” (2 Corinthians 10:18)
A couple of very short stories from this compilation of HIS Story follow.
Unexpectedly a young mother died in a car accident. Her best friend, a cancer survivor that relied heavily on the deceased soul bravely volunteered to do the eulogy. Another young friend decided to gift those present with her angelic voice.
The singer worried about her strength to make it through her songs. I drove her early to practice so her husband could await their babysitter before following us. As she belabored her fear of crying instead of singing during the part where the words are “and I will lift you up on eagle’s wings…,” I joked about other creatures and song lyrics. Lines from “Mickey Mouse” poured out of my mouth breaking her tension.
As we laughed, I parked my car and told her to look at me and watch my lips because they will be harmonizing with that other animal song. During the actual funeral, my neighbor didn’t have to find my face because as we entered the church the face of the clock hit us in the funny bone. This Orlando church made its timely purchase at Disney World; there the mouse stood greeting us with his arms marking the hours and minutes.
God has a sense of humor, too.
You are the God who performs miracles; you display your power among the peoples. (Psalm 77:13-15)
My young life felt unbearable; my father suffered mental illness pouring it out on his family. We suffered dysfunction; I never truly trusted any family member except, maybe, my mom.
When I asked for a sixteenth birthday party, she informed me that my lack of boyfriends and girl pals signaled no need for a celebration similar to the one my sister enjoyed two years prior to that request. Feeling isolated, with no hope, I began slowly giving up life. Being a coward, suicide was not my option. Instead, I allowed the next big virus to overcome me.
In the middle of the night, after repeated relapses of this illness, my body succumbed to walking pneumonia; I was breathless. As I let go, my room became as bright as daylight but no one had turned on the lamp in the area. The radiance spread out from just behind me encompassing the entire space while slowly surrounding me as if in a hug. I knew its origination remained behind my line of vision but avoided turning towards that glow. It felt as if I spun towards the source’s brilliance that my soul would be captured and moved to the afterlife; I remained a bit of a coward in that moment. My spirit wasn’t sure what it really wanted but God knew His plan.
Soon, I heard two, male voices chatting about me. One commanding Spirit asked why I arrived at the gates of heaven. St. Peter replied that he had no idea because it was not my time, yet. The booming, authoritative man commanded, “Then, send her back! She has not yet completed her mission.”
My bedroom fell dark as I realized that my mind and soul was engrossed in “The Lord’s Prayer.” At that moment, I had no idea what my mission might be but I knew God sent me back to finish it. My spirit was a bit shaken by this experience; I was breathless in anticipation.
I kept that encounter secret until my mother’s deathbed. She shared her “tonsil operation” vision; at age ten, she was in the tunnel with The Light but was sent back. While smiling, I mentioned that God made me stop short of Heaven, also. After that testimony, unconditional love- A.K.A. my mom- was breathless. This time, she raced towards the light to be with God in Paradise.
After breaking my bone in multiple places, I spent hours waiting for doctors to decide my fate. From the first ER, they transported me to a trauma center. In spite of having my loved ones by my side, I worried so I prayed.
When we arrived at the specialty hospital via ambulance, a girl with the waltz of a ballerina came in to set me up in my hospital room. We found out she lived two counties away but chose to be a patient care technician there because a trauma doctor saved her life.
She’d been texting and lost control of her car amputating her legs. In spite of the fact that she coded, that physician reattached those limbs. Now, about a year later, we met before my partial shoulder replacement surgery.
She’s a textbook case of why texting and driving is bad. More importantly-she’s a textbook case in trusting God’s Will because her surgery made her stronger in life as well as shoring up her faith. She showed how much she cared when that young lady lovingly told my family her story showing me the path through my own surgery and recovery.
God’s love joined us as we repaired life’s damage.
Harmonizing in the Spirit
I recently wrote a friend an e-mail about my accident because he was going through hard times. To this day, that intersection-where I faced death-makes me think about bypassing it and taking a different way home. But, I try to face it head on to get over the fear.
I don’t remember all of my car wreck but a few things come to mind. Right after the other driver plowed through my vehicle, in that intersection, my body felt queasy anytime my eyes opened. It felt worse and worse-soon after the accident. So I shut them keeping them closed tight.
I remember parts of the ambulance and helicopter ride. All my injuries that made them call for that emergency transportation caused me extreme nausea; I continued to keep my eyes closed even while coherent. It felt better that way. However, I was awake and aware while in the air; I heard the paramedics and people on the radio repeating that I coded. At that point in time, I felt light as if my soul detached from my nausea-ridden body but there was a peace not a fear in that knowledge. It wasn’t scary just bright and kind of nice to be hovering away from my physical pain.
During the flight, I heard myself singing a religious song. I felt calm and happy enough to sing. It may have been my mind or soul enjoying the tune because the crew just kept administering medical aide trying to revive me.
Later, my dad said that he heard the same song that my soul sung; it came on the radio as he raced to the teaching hospital to see me-alive-hopefully. Unaware of my peaceful reverie, separated by miles, my father harmonized with my soul belting out the same exact tune while sensing that God guided him safely to the trauma center.
During the ordeal, I remember being very serene as well as aware that if I permanently coded (died) that my family and girlfriend would be in MORE PAIN emotionally than my body currently, physically suffered. As we landed at the hospital, I was very aware of the lifesaving activities taking place even though my brain felt semi-comatose, in a coma, or worse. Quickly, nurses and staff raced to me to help; they cut off my clothes and prepped me on the run for surgery and other life-saving procedures.
One nurse kept chanting, “We can’t let this one die; we have to save this one.” God lovingly agreed restoring me to life.
The Not-at-Fault Driver and Soul
Trust in God heals the heart, mind, and soul.
I work for GOD! Is she crazy or telling the truth? What I mean to say is that I write many nonfiction books that are really just scribing the history of His stories. My tales are Christian-based; at least one of those books points directly to heaven. Most of the time, I explain how bad situations and good ones have the potential to bring hope and love along with stronger faith.
My writing started after a major life change or trauma. In fact, my favorite question during book interviews is: How did you get started writing? The short answer is that in 1991 my mother died. Some people dream of being authors; my writing began as what could be described as a nightmare! However, as she died, mom experienced what would be called a Christian near death experience (NDE) or miracle. My nonfiction witness became Mom’s on the Roof, and I Can’t Get Her Down by Cynthia Meyers-Hanson.
Since then, I diversified into the other books and genres; I continue to toy with writing. I’ve co-authored or compiled several other divine tales. Meanwhile, I have ghostwritten many novels under the pen name Sydney S. Song. I use a pseudonym so that people know when my books are telling the truth and when I am fibbing (a bit). Recently, I’ve produced many picture books for children. I also compile collections and anthologies filled with true short stories from the Divine to mundane including humorous tales.
In real life, I’m a friendly Floridian, born and raised in Miami’s megalopolis. I currently live a bit further north with my husband. We are semi-retired. Our children are out of the house; some are married with their own children. We love outdoor activities such as boating and swimming at the pool, springs or beach.
My author site on Amazon includes my paperbacks and Kindles.
My other author site includes sections for my book genres as well as a blog and video section (the videos are mini movies as book trailers). This site also has my contact information.
Smashwords includes all other e-book providers and formats used for my books including Barnes and Noble, Sony, Kobo, etc.
Check out my other blog on Blogspot.
Other contact information
- Generic Amazon link to all my Kindles and paperbacks
- Generic YouTube link to find my book trailers