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I’ve always had an issue with “loss”.  I have tried to deal with it, and just when I think I have it beaten– it creeps up again.  When I was 6 years old, my brother died.  He was my hero, my bubba, my best friend.  I had never loved anyone as much as I loved him.  You see, my house was a divided family.  Still is.  My father had been married previously and so had my mother.  They both had children already when they met, then Voila! Here I come along.  So, I made #7 place.  Phillip was 8 years old when I was born, and he had been looking forward to me arriving.  Even went out and bought a blue baby-boy’s blanket, with his own money.  He really, really, really wanted a little brother, but got me and was thrilled.  We were best of pals.  We went everywhere together.  We rode our bikes to the taco plaza and ate taco’s together.  Went to baskin robbins and ate ice cream, then played in the parks.  (back then, it wasn’t as scary)  He walked with me hand in hand one day….okay, dragging me behind him, to return a lollipop I had stolen from the store.  He made me apologize and everything.  He rescued me from a field of thorns and stickers, and carried me home.  I have memories, but they keep fading as the years roll by me.  I miss him so much to this day. 

A short while after his death, while my family was still reeling from his loss, a series of events took place in my life.  First of all, when your a child, you just dont think its possible that someone you know could die.  We all think that we are immortal to a certain extent.  I was no exception, in thinking that my brother would some day come back to me.  My mother discovered she was pregnant.  At last!!  I would have someone in my life!!  She was very ill during that pregnancy.  As her tummy grew, and our anticipation grew, my mother just wore out.  She carried that little angel named Lisa, to full term and gave birth to her.  She was dead.  My mother never got to see her newborn, only my father.  My father had been through enough already, he insisted they let him see his baby girl.  She looked like me, that’s what he has always said about her.  Its all he can remember.  My mother almost died from that, but while she was recovering, my dad was just slipping away.  I walked in on him, as he was putting the barrell into his mouth.  He was crying.  He was in so much agony.  I slowly slipped out of the room and sat down on the floor, by the wall.  I stared at the giant mimosa tree in our back yard, where Phillip and I used to play.  My mommy was sick, my daddy wanted to die and leave me too.  My oldest sister, didn’t like me much.  She regretted my father for having me, she regretted that I was his little girl so much.  They weren’t on speaking terms at all.  But….she comforted me on that day, but she didn’t know why.  I never told anyone, and he never did either.  Been a little secret my whole life, and one that eats at me. 

So, when summer time arrived, I played mostly at the neighbors house.  There was a girl there who was nice to me, and she had 3 brothers. They had been friends to my own brother.  I found comfort in that some how.  It made me remember Phillip.  It made me feel close to him again, so I enjoyed it.  We ate snacks together, we played outside, rode our bikes, and Rhonda was telling me everything I needed to know about school.  I was to begin school in the fall.  I was sooo nervous, and didn’t want to go.  The mere thought of going to school terrified me.

One day, my friend Rhonda was gone.  She had went to her mothers house for the weekend.  Well, her brothers were still next door and invited me over to play awhile–and I always agreed.  This day was different though.  Her oldest brother had singled me out to hang out with on that afternoon, and I was so happy for it.  I missed my brother so much, I talked about him all of the time.  Well, Glen used this information to his sick advantage.  There was this old volkswagen van that was all tore up sitting in their yard for a long time.  I had heard that they were smoking pot in there, and never go inside.  I should have listened to “them”, whoever they were because I cant remeber now who told me that.  It was possibly my brother, but not sure.  Glen had figured out a way to get me to do whatever he wanted though–he was smart.  He used my dead brother as his pawn, for his sick and twisted ways.  One day we go into the van, he forces me to do things that I had never known of.  Shouldn’t have known about.  He makes it all better each time by telling me its what my brother would have wanted me to do, etc.  Then the threats started.  I was scared silly about anyone finding out what had happened.  Then the guilt began.  I was so worried about it all because Glen had made me believe that it was all my fault.  I was a scared, mixed up, messed up little girl.  When school finally started, I didn’t want to be seperated from my mom.  I didn’t want to be out of her sight, because what if something happened to her too? I sat in the corner of my classroom rocking wildly back and forth while the children all called me names.  Why wouldn’t they all just leave me alone?! For the first time in my life….I wanted to die.  AND, I was only barely 7 years old.  Secrets can really hurt.  They can mess you up in ways you never thought.  I was constantly taken to the hospital by my parents, I was in constant pain.  If not emotional, it was a physical thing.  I had stomach ulcers by the time I was 9, and gallstones too.  They said that my stomach just produced too much acid naturally, causing all kinds of chaos on my body.  I was the poster child for a nervous wreck already.  What a beginning I had.  What an introduction.  Sometimes, I think I was just a waste, like someone needed to start over.  So thats what I did.  After begging my parents in a slobbery, pathetic way to never-ever-ever die one night, I was comforted.  My mom and I began going to church across the street from our house.  I made friends there.  My mom changed.  I changed.  My dad worked hard at change, but he needed more time.  More space.  He wanted to continue to mourn for his lost son, because when he started to become happy again, that wouldn’t be fair for his dead son you see.  So it took him years, to show happiness.  I missed alot from him.  He’s never recovered.  I need to make that clear.  He never will.  When you lose a child, your world just stops.  Sometimes for years.  I, in a weird sense, have never recovered either.  The day that I forgot my brothers voice, was the worst day of my life.  You take advantage of all these little, itty things in life, until one day you forget them altogether.  I still try to remember his voice, but I never can.  I miss him still.  My first born son–carry’s his name for me now.  I will never forget him, his smile, his laugh.


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Okay.  So spring has finally erupted here in North Texas.  We had to deal with a last minute Snow/blizzard thingy, but now its over.  I think.  I hope.  My tulips are budding out, the trees are starting to leave out, etc.  Its a beautiful time, and my favorite time.  But why am I so “bla”??  I dont get it.  At the current time, I have so many issues going on in my little life.  Im sick, to be the first of all my despair.  I am currently being tested for “Cushings Syndrome”, which will then lead to a diagnosis of “Cushings-Disease” if what they find is accurate.  Im not thrilled to have that particular diagnosis–however, I want them to finally label it with something–anything.  Once I had been given the label of “fibromyalgia”, everything stopped.  Any/Every symptom I had from there on out, was just poohed on.  Once that diagnosis is made~~BEWARE! You will never have anything else as far as they think.  Because, Fibromyalgia is just a ball of “everything” out there, and anything applies to it.  I have often just run away from calling my illness that.  It just doesn’t seem real to me, or its just a made up label to get rid of you.   It may sound crazy to most.  But I just want this chapter of my illness to be over and go away, be treated, or something.  Im apparantly a walking question mark to my doctors.  They are pretty puzzled by me, and haven’t quite figured it all out.  I feel like one of those Mystery Diagnosis shows on TLC channel.  On-going now for about 7 years or so.  I do have all the signs and symptoms of the Cushings, except the purple striae marks they speak of.  Im the heaviest I’ve ever been in my whole life–and its freaking me out.  Most of my weight has congregated in my tummy, upper-back and that darned buffallo hump on my neck.  I cant find any clothes to fit me correctly, and wouldn’t be caught dead in shorts/or short sleeved shirt.  I want the madness to end,I want the dreary sadness left behind from winter to leave me.  I need sunshine to survive folks.  Literally.  I have to go outdoors several times a day and just close my eyes–stand there in the sunshiny moment, and breathe.  The only exception is when my Mother n Law see’s me, and decides that she wants to come over and talk for hours about how her mother abused her.  I tell you what~my mother n law is the walking/talking poster child of OCD/and Darned CRAZY people.  She has never had a therapist, but needs one.  She looks to me to be that for her instead.  It makes me crazy.  To the point that I rarely go outside anymore, and I rarely leave my own house.  If the moment occurs that she is leaving–I see her purple van drive out, I jump to the opportunity to do something.  Sound crazy??  Well, that’s the way it has been for about 5 years now.  Im in a place in my life where I literally dont know who I am anymore.  I try and try to do things…..but there’s always something there stopping me for finishing any of it.  My life is just a shadow it seems.  Sorry to be so negative….trying to cling to ANYthing that I can today.  70ish degrees for here, sun is brightly shining.  New kittens on my porch, the whole world open, but I feel like a lazy rock.  Or a white crayon.  Peace to you all~!~praying that the other half of creation is having a glorious day.  Remember me, in your prayers.  I covet them all.  truly. 

~~till another time,


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What is exfoliation and why is it important?  Exfoliation is literally the act of doing a little “damage” to your skin to wake it up and call in the repair team to heal it.  It removes the dull, and dead skin that lingers on the uppermost layer of our skin.  When we have a buildup of these cells on the surface, our skin is dull, uneven, and lacking a healthy glow.  Consider this:  When we are born our skin is creamy, glowing and ultra smooth.  There are no pores to see, just flawless skin.  Our skin rejuvenates itself weekly when we are children.  Otherwise, you would still be seeing that icky scar from when you were 3 and fell off your scooter toy!  As we get a little older, say 10 years old, it takes our skin 2 weeks or so to renew.  Speed on up to age 30 now.  It can take up to 60 days for the bottom layer of new skin cells to reach the top!  This is why we want to speed it up a bit more to get glowing skin faster than the 60 days.  Any time that your skin is damaged, the skin cells underneath are called into formation to begin what they do best—repair.  Some folks think that if they exfoliate every day it is better—but that is not so.  You definitely do not want to over-do it with the exfoliation.  Once a week is more than enough.  You can use baking soda added to your normal cleanser for a great, gentle exfoliation.  And not to mention it is a lot cheaper than some of the brands you could buy!  Also, you want to use the smallest grain possible, apricot seed is just too big.  It will actually do more harm than good, it scratches the skin too much, and causes more oil to come to the surface.  So stay clear from that type of product.  You can try to do it from home using everyday products for the same effect, such as the baking soda, or even  brown sugar.  Try to be creative!  Its not that hard.  There are also professional peels to consider in this process of exfoliation.  You really have to be careful when doing this at home, because there are many things to consider when doing a peel.  Such as, the type of skin you have, your allergies, and tolerance.  The smaller the molecule, the deeper the peels effectiveness.  If the skin is very acneic, for example, very prone to breakouts and blackheads, you want to use something with a very small molecule to get deep into the pore to clean out all the “gunk”.  The smallest molecule in peels is the “Salicylic” type of formula.  A lot of the peels available for acneic skin on the market contain Salicylic Acid. It is derived from a form of Aspirin, and has antimicrobial features.  It has the ability to clean the inside of the pore, as well as the outside. 

The “glycolic” peel (mainly derived from plant sources) in some ways is the most popular, because it can really be effective for just about any skin type, minus the sensitive skin category. 

To Be Continued……

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~Dimensions of the temple/ New Jerusalem~


1500   mile cube (long, wide, & tall):

12 tribe’s names written on gates:

*Rueben    *Simeon    *Levi        *Judah

*Issachar   *Zebulum   *Joseph    *Benjamin

*Dan        *Naphtali    *Gad       *Asher


12 gates made of giant pearls

(each the size of a house)


Each gate 300 miles a part (3 on east, 3 on west, 3 on south, 3 on north)

The wall around the city: 216 feet thick

12 foundations made of precious gems/metals:

Jasper (diamond)

Sapphire (clear blue)

Chalcedony-(aqua green w/mixed striped colors)

Emerald-(bright green)

Sardonyx- (reddish white)

Carnelian- (blood red)

Chrysolite- (transparent gold yellow)

Beryl- (a sea green light emerald)

Topaz- (transparent green yellow)


Jacinth- (violet)

Amethyst- (Brilliant Purple)  






NOTE:  this is the size of NEW JERUSALEM/THE HOLY TEMPLE only.  This is not putting the size of the earth, without the oceans, into perspective!!                                                                         

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VICTORY for Suanne

VICTORY for Suanne

I will NOT live a defeated life.

I will fill my mind with VICTORY.

I will make JOY contagious.

I will have MORE FAITH than fear.

Fear is only a temporary emotion.

I will replace negative thoughts with POSITIVE thoughts

I will CAST DOWN wrong imaginations

God is the Owner of my heart

I will picture the perfect.

I will discipline my thought life

This too shall pass

Defeat, Defeat, Defeat thoughts and fears

I will CAST DOWN all negativity in my life.

God is ALL-POWERFUL.  He will bring me though it now and FOREVER.

Every dream and promise He gives will come to pass—ALWAYS.

I will CHERISH every single day given by God.

There is Victory in the blood Christ shed for me.

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A gift from God, a light for my soul on a dark day.  I awoke in a place with a shopping cart at my waist, similar in appearance to one you would find in a large hardware store.  This place didn’t sell wood though.  My basket on my first glance is filled full of goodies—all things I love, yet had never laid eyes on before.  I tend to fancy old things, things that other people once loved and treasured, I find great mystery to them.  An antique quilt that was so heavy and soft lay in my cart.  I imagined someones grandmother making it, spending days on end stitching each piece tenderly in her soft hands.  I touch each design in the pattern, marveling at how intriquite it really is.  I see golden threads that sparkle, it looks ancient-but new at the same time.  I try to remember when golden thread was invented and cant.  It’s delicate and sincere.  I place it back in the buggy, certain in my heart beyond anything that I want it, but not sure of the price tag it carries. None the less, I carry on to the next thing.  I look up and see high and low, items that are immaculate in description, any of which I would cherish, but certain they all cost a small fortune.  I see isles and isles of beautiful and sparkling things. I stop by a wall of candles.  The aroma’s so pleasant you could gobble them up, I place a couple in my cart unable to choose a favorite, I just close my eyes and pick one.  There’s suddenly a chandelier in my cart.  It’s huge!  It’s covered in sparkly jewels.  The gleam is so bright I blink my eyes and bend to touch it.  This is something I must have, but what could the price be for such an exquisite beauty? More than I could ever imagine– I’m certain of that.  I decide to just keep it in my buggy for another isle at least, so I can stare at it from time to time.  Each turn is filled with more and more wonderful finds, my heart is racing, my eyes wide and my buggy full to the rim.  I find my head swirling with emotion and telling myself, “I want all of these things!  Things that I cant afford—what a fool to even think it?”  I can’t decide on just one item.  I feel a bit sad and unworthy for a moment. Then,  I see some doors that are arched and beautifully sculpted straight ahead.  I decide to venture through them just to see what is beyond them. This is Impossible!!  I see to my astonishment spectacular mazes of foliage.  Eye candy for the flower freak.  Every direction this way and that, up and down is vivid color.  I’ve never in my small life seen such things as these.  “Are those daisies?” couldn’t be.  I have to swallow.  They are adorned with colorful petals-each to its own amazing color, with heads as big as my own!!  I cant even breathe.  Acres upon acres of miracles, none that man nor beast have ever had the pleasure of finding.  The fragrance is exhilarating, filling the air like a soft cloud.  Finally, overwhelmed, a tear stains my face.  I realize in my mind that there is no way I can afford any of these wonderful things, and there is no way to make a decision about it.  With my head bowed and now turning to a small sob, I start to unload my buggy.  My fingers slipping over each precious item as I release it back to the shelves where they belong.  I see something though that totally catches my attention.  A hot Pink and cream  colored rose with magnificent variegated leaves.  Its spectacular in fragrance and looks.  But its so tender, so innocent, no thorns in sight, the price may be something that I  could afford, but there are no tags or price signs anywhere in this place.  My eyes search for someone.  Surely there are workers in this wonderful place?  Who cares for all of these charming things, who dusts the myriads of isles, cleans these finely polished floors, tends to these gardens?  The structure of this building itself is amazing—who crafted this fine arcquitecture?  Finally two ladies,(I say “ladies” because only ladies look this gentle and kind, not “women”)approach me.  I think they are so sweet, even though I don’t know them personally.  Their hair styles are reminiscent of older times, swirls this way and that, bouffant.  Sheer works of art, their hair.  One is slender and tall, her dress swirling about her ankles, taffeta and fine lace in a creamy golden beige.  The other lady is squatty and soft with a glowing smile that sets her apart.  She has such a tiny face, one you could just squeeze because its so cute.  She holds out a hand, and swirls it around in the air about to talk.  She points up and down, high and low and swirls herself all around.  Before she speaks the two of them giggle as though someone said something funny to them and they just got the punchline.  Joy, I thought, its what they both have and its something I desperately crave.  I could barely contain myself as they two of them in unison explained to me that all of the things that I could see, even outdoors belonged to me.  They told me that the Lord had this place made in my honor—to fill my mansion in heaven with.  And the acres of flowers, tree’s and shrubs?  They were  to fill my gardens to my hearts content.  They would never fade, nor die.  They were disease resistant and free from troubling weeds.  Those pesky things that entered into the garden when sin came in.  I look at these sweet ladies, like shining grannies, with over-flowing joy.  I couldn’t ever, never think that this could all possibly be mine, could I?  But where was God, so that I could go and thank Him myself?  I wanted nothing more than at that moment to fall at His feet and kiss Him.  But instead I woke up.  I desperately tried to cling to the memories, to those precious moments in my dream.  I wanted to go back, I wanted to see what was next, I didn’t want to wake up at all.  I knew that I knew, right now at this moment the Lord was up there stockpiling goodies for me—somewhere that only my dreams could take me for now.  But someday, I’ll really get to go back to that place and finish what I started there for real.

To be continued:

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Just Me….

Its the one and only Suanne. Just wanted to get some “space” in the blog world to begin some projects. I hope to write a blog about a dream I had of heaven. (and a bunch of other things too!) I also love to share skin care tips with people–those of us in the real world. I’m  all about doing things responsibly, but realistically too. Hope to dazzle your mind with some things really soon!

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