UNLIKELY FRIENDS PART 2

Therefore confess your sins to each other

and pray for each other so that

you may be healed.  The prayer of 

a righteous person is

powerful and effective.

~James 5:16

The longer I am at camp the more in love I fall with the women I am sharing my days with.  They each have a story.  Each story is unique, yet so many similarities are sprinkled throughout each story.  Most stories are heartbreaking in the beginning, but almost all stories (not all, but almost) have twisted and turned and found its way to happy. Redemption is a beautiful thing.  It is glorious when God allows you to witness these things.  In reality, we can all witness miracles each day.  The tricky part is looking for these miracles.  My time at camp taught me how to expect the unexpected, how to recognize God's amazing works, how to be still and marvel at just how mighty our God is.

When I reflect on the 30 days I spent at camp, my heart genuinely feels happy.  I know that sounds crazy, but it is true. I missed my family so much while I was away.  Away without out visitors, because everyone that loved me on the outside was in another state 14 hours away. However, the friends I made loved me, supported me and challenged me each day.  The friendships I found there are life long, they are true, they are beautiful and they are unlikely.  I would have never associated with these amazing, strong, broken, redeemed, lost and then found, crazy at times, full of love, forgiven women if it had not been for camp.  I am grateful to know them and to know their stories.  I truly feel blessed.

When I first met my campmates, the vast majority of them were not believers.  Colorado is a state with a large atheist culture.  Such a gorgeous state full of God's master pieces and so many non-believers.  I would actually go so far as to call them refusers to believers.  I can assure you that when I left camp, every woman that was there knew who God was and knew how to have Him as their Savior and knew of how many good things He had done for me.  They would chuckle about the DA getting a new job, I wasn't the only one happy about that one.  Funny side note, he has since gone back to being a DA in that town.  God is just good that way.  They would ask question after question about when God spoke to me.  We talked about their past and their future.  We talked about being royalty, as daughter's of the most high King!  We talked about new beginnings, redemption, God's plans for all of us! It was so fun to watch the light go on and them come to know my sweet Father in heaven. Not everyone had accepted Him as their Savior when I left, but the seed had been planted.

Camper B1 was a beautiful woman.  She could have easily been a model, tall and slender, long blonde hair, poise.  She had so much to offer, yet saw so little value in herself.  She had been in and out of prison.  Had her #6 baby while in prison.  Had been in trouble for drugs and all sorts of crimes that are associated with that.  She has 6 children and at the time, custody of none of them.  She loved her  children with everything she had, but on her own was never able to stay clean and sober long enough to fight for them. It wasn't long after we became friends that she prayed the sinners pray and asked Jesus into her heart. You could instantly see a change in her.  One night she was supposed to be able to call her children.  When her ex-husband answered the phone he refused to let her speak to the kids.  For whatever reason (the enemy), he was being unusually cruel and verbally abusive to her.  She became angry and frustrated and started pounding her fist on the phone and yelling quite loudly.  When you are at camp, this type of behavior is not at all acceptable and lands all campers locked down in their cells for a period of time.  The deputy came to camper B1's cell and asked her to come and talk with him at the table in the middle of the common area.  She did as he asked.  This deputy was very kind and truly had everyone's best interest at heart.  He asked her if he could do anything to make her night better.  I think he was expecting her to say an ice cream or a soda would be nice, as she did not have any family members that put money on her books for such treats.  She responded to his question by asking if he would let me out of my cell as well, so we could pray.  She told him she knew her behavior was unacceptable and that she was sorry.  All she wanted to do was pray with her friend.  When the deputy came to my door, he told me that he has never had a request like this before and didn't really know how the rules worked with this request. He stated "I'm not sure what the rules are for letting another inmate out during lock down, but this is the best answer I have ever had to a question of what can I do to make it better. Lisa, I don't know what it is about you, but you have changed the atmosphere in this pod and I am not going to do anything to stand in the way of positive change. So, go out and pray with this girl."  I was quick to tell him "It isn't me, it's who I brought with me.  I told him that God and I had a deal and we were doing this thing together."  He replied "I haven't ever seen anyone that could show me God, but you have.  Seeing things goes a lot further than hearing them."  I was so touched by his words.  So glad that God and I had made a deal one night with me sprawled out on my bathroom floor.  So thankful that with His strength I was able to stand strong.  In my weakness, He was strong.  I later found out that the deputy is now a believer. He was born again and I believe he will carry Jesus with him up and down those halls.  Camper B1 did have to do some time in prison again.  She is still fighting for custody of her children.  She now walks with her head a little higher and her heart a little lighter.  She knows full well God's good and perfect plans for her life.  We often prayed that the path He has for her would be so well lit that she couldn't miss it. That if she got off His path, she would know, as the darkness would overshadow the light.  If she stepped off into darkness, we prayed that His beacons would point her back to her path.  The path He designed specifically for her. Camper B1 also taught me about truly loving things.  She always said that we tend to say we love things too easily. We love cake, we love this movie or that shirt, we love things that can never love us back.  She said when she really loves something, such as her family or friends, she says she love loves them.  It's just a way to put true meaning into the words I love you!  My family has said LoveLove  (or sometimes lovelovelove) from the moment I shared this with them.  It's a nice reminder of truly loving each other.

Camper S had a long and very ugly past to be such a young girl.  As with so many others,  drugs and crimes related to drugs had entangled her at a very young age.  Her latest stay at camp was because she was in a hotel room that was raided and she and her boyfriend decided to hide their drugs in their infant's diaper.  Yes, her infant was in a hotel room where drug deals and drug use were going down.  Her best idea when the cops came into the room was to hide unwrapped drugs in her infant's diaper.  Drugs that would seep into his system and cause him to be hospitalized.  Drugs that would cause this poor little innocent child to go through withdrawal.  Her remorse was great, but a little late.  But...... forgiveness and redemption were hers for the taking.  She was able to work through so many things.  She too found Jesus at camp.  She had many slips and falls over the next several years, but I am so proud to report that she has been clean and sober for more than 2 years!!  She has reconnected with her mother, has her son back and has a little girl.  Her life is still full of peaks and valleys, but she knows Jesus and she knows how to cope by running to Him instead of drugs.

I can tell you story after story of these friends I have made.  Most stories are of new life and restoration.  There are a few tragic stories, stories that break my heart.  Stories that have caused me to mourn at such a deep level, only God can give me peace. All the stories are from unlikely friends.  Friends that I talk to on a weekly basis.  Friends that are in my prayers every single day.  Friends that Jesus and I met at camp.  Friends that I love with all my heart. Friends that changed my life.


Be thankful in all things!
God is always up to something good!
He can turn ugly into radiant!
It is fun to be royalty.
Lovelove the things that matter.


  

UNLIKELY FRIENDS PART 1

A new command I give you;
Love one another. 
As I have loved you, so you must 
love one another.
~John 13:34

 I am knocking days off my stay at camp so quickly!  A young girl created a calendar for me of my original 50 days and I would mark each day off as it happened and on the back end I was marking good time days off......the space between each day and release date is closing in! I have been made a trustee and now I get double the good time days for my classes and I am given 10 bonus good time days.  My stay at camp will be shortened from 50 days to 30.  God is just so very good, all the time.  I was originally afraid I might not be able to be a trustee because I had back surgery in March, just 5 short months prior to being sent to camp.  I didn't know if the camp doctor was going to sign off on my trustee release because the duties required of a trustee involved a lot of lifting, climbing stairs and such.  Miraculously, he signed off and now I was clicking days off faster than ever. Not only did being a trustee get me closer to release, but it gave me a new uniform. A blue scrub top and striped scrub style bottoms.  I no longer had to completely undress to go to the bathroom and I got fresh clothes everyday.  It really is the simple things.  

I am more than half way done with my time and I have gotten to know and love every single lady there.  People I would have never met under ordinary circumstances have become true friends.  I still talk to them often via phone and facebook.  Our friendships are unique and real and I am grateful to have gotten to know these beautiful women.

The first person I met, the wild eyed girl, Camper E, was my roomie and we had hours and hours locked in our cell together.  She was quite a character.  The day I met her she informed me that she had been in and out of jail 17 times that year (it was August).  She had been to prison previously for drug related charges. This current season included theft and drug related issues.  She was not
 in good health physically and had a string of mental problems.  As long as she was medicated, she did well.  I had learned she and her parents had been on the outs for most of her life.  She was a victim of severe childhood abuse.  She had a son that was 15, who would end up in juvie after I went home.  My heart really hurt for her.  Her stories were heartbreaking.  Night after night she would try to call her mother and night after night her mother would deny her phone calls. Her health would become so bad that the DA would actually offer her a plea deal.  If the original charges stuck, the system would be responsible for her medical care and it could be possible that the original sentence could literally mean life in prison for her.  I have to say, as much as I learned to care for Camper E, I am not certain she would ever be fully successful in the outside world.  She is out of prison now and doing 'okay'.  I know God loves her and that she knows who He is.  She is forever in my prayers and as odd as it may seem, I love her.

Camper K1 was the first person that I talked to when I got to the pod.  She was my youngest daughter's age.  She had been raised in an orphanage in Texas and had gotten into trouble shortly after she was released from the orphanage and was on probation. She had come to Colorado with a friend and they were living on the streets.  In the resort areas of Colorado there is very little tolerance for the homeless.  Camper K1 had been caught sleeping behind Walmart and when they ran her information, it was discovered that she did not have permission to leave the state of Texas.  She was in the Colorado jail awaiting extradition back to Texas.  I would get to know her over about 10 days before she was sent back to Texas.  I would find her in the system after my release and keep in touch with her via letters while she was sitting out her probation revocation.  90 days after I got home, I received a letter from her asking if she could come and stay with me after her release.  Oh my goodness, how in the world am I supposed to answer that?  This poor girl that has never had a family,  A girl that has told me that I am the only person that has ever written her a letter.  A girl that is the same age as my youngest daughter.  A girl that has no one to turn to, but a woman she knew for 10 days face to face and another 90 days via letter correspondence.  I am praying about my answer and one day I receive a call from the Chaplin at the state jail.  The Chaplin is telling me that unless Camper K1 has a home plan, she cannot be released.  The state jail will buy her a one way bus ticket to Lubbock if I agree.  My head is spinning and my heart is aching for Camper K1.  I talk to my family and a few others and we all come up with a plan.  We will get her a hotel for 30 days.  During this 30 days she will try to  get her license, her social security card and a job.  While she was in state jail, she had earned her GED. They had taken her picture in a cap and gown and she treasured that picture.  For the first time in her life, she was proud of herself.  She is confident that she will be able to get a job.  She applies at several places, but no luck. Her 30 days in the hotel are nearing an end.  I have told her that after the 30 days she will need to stay at the Salvation Army.  I tell her all she has to do is sleep there, during the day she will be with my family, she will have meals with us, but at night she will need to go to the Salvation Army.  She is not thrilled, but completely understands.  The last night in her hotel, she writes me a sweet note on Facebook.  Just thanking me for everything and letting me know how much she appreciates all that my family has done for her.  Okay, here is the good part!  A woman I worked with at the hospital liked the post and made a sweet comment to me.  A lady in Montana is friends with my friend from the hospital and sees the post.  She has to take a double take. She private messages me and tells me that she thinks the girl that I have been helping is her niece.  She looks like her brother and shares her last name.  Oh. My. Goodness.  I connect them, sure enough Camper K1 is her niece.  She sends her a bus ticket and the next day she is off to Montana.  She has now connected with her mother, her father and her sister.  If nothing else, this chain of events was worth my time at camp!  Divine appointments are a gift from God.  What are the odds, 2 girls from Texas meet in a Colorado jail and nothing will ever be the same!  I took God with me and He made miracles happen.  

Camper K1 arrived just a few weeks before my daughter's wedding. While here my family embraced her just as if she were family.  She is holding my mom's hand in the picture.

Divine appointments change the world.
Love one another as God has loved you
Unlikely friends are true friends

 

CRAZY DREAMS AND GOD THINGS

Come to me, all you who are weary 

and burdened, and I will

give you rest.

~Matthew 11:28

The first night in the pod I met most of the ladies.  To my surprise, they were all so helpful and kind.  Very quickly they showed me the ropes, how to order commissary, how to request a razor and other shower supplies, taught me a card game, told me about classes and 'good time' days, shared tid bits of their own stories.  I was no longer scared of these women, I was connected to them and I felt safe. 

On this first night, I did not have a roommate.  This was a blessing.  I was able to just go to bed, pray and fall asleep.  I had ordered phone minutes and by the next afternoon, I should be able to talk to my family.   

At 4:00 a.m. our doors pop open and we are expected to file out into the common area and have breakfast.  4:00 a.m.?  What?  Who is hungry at 4:00 a.m.? Just another camp rule that really makes little sense to me.  I very quickly learn that our days will be divided by meal times, activity time, lock down times and then repeat.  Here was a typical day:

4:00 a.m.- 4:45 a.m.  Breakfast and then back to cell

5:00 a.m. - 5:45 a.m. Clean, sweep, mop,  gather laundry, etc. for our own cells

5:46 a.m. - 9:00 a.m.  Lock down.......this is when you are locked in your cell and cannot come out

9:00 a.m. -11:00 a.m. Activity time - you are allowed in and out of your cell, you can watch tv, play games, attend classes, exercise in a tiny little caged in outdoor slab,make phone calls, pretty much just whatever you wanted to do within the confines of the common area and the little slab outside.

11:00 a.m. - 12:20 p.m. Lock down

12:20 p.m. - 1:05 p.m. Lunch

1:05 p.m. - 2:00 p.m. Lock down

2:00 p.m. - 3:45 p.m. Activity time

3:45 p.m. - 4:00 p.m. Lock down

4:00 p.m. - 4:45 p.m. Supper

4:45 p.m, - 7:00 p.m. Lock down -- mail comes around 6:00 p.m. each evening.  This is either a very happy time or a very depressing time.

7:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m. Activity time

** if you are a trustee, you have serving and cleaning duties before and after each meal and after each activity time.

I have been camping for a week or so now, things are becoming routine. My roommate is the wild eyed girl. We are getting along just fine.  I am truly getting to know the other ladies.  I have learned that if you attend classes or 'church' each 7 classes/services you attend will equal what they call a good time day.  Each good time day is 1 less day you have to stay at camp.  I am taking every class.....life after incarceration, parenting (my kids are grown!), AA (rarely ever drink), NA (NEVER did drugs) and attend every 'church' service they have.......Non-Denominational, Catholic, Baptist, Latter Day Saints, Jehovah Witness. They had it, I attended it!  Woooooohoooooo.......

I have started receiving mail, each day I anticipate the wheels of the mail cart and wait to hear my name called out and my door to pop open. Some days cards and letters come without envelopes (colored envelopes were not allowed), some days my cards are photo copied and I don't get the actual card (glitter, stickers and such are not allowed.  All of these will be in with my personal belongings when I am released.),  the stamps are always torn off, my mail is always pre-read by a clerk or deputy (same with my out going mail).  I don't care how I get it, mail from home is always a good thing!  It is a good thing until I receive a Dear John letter from the hospital that had so boldly supported me throughout this whole ordeal.  

During the reorganization at the hospital, very strict rules were put into place regarding time off.  No one was allowed time off unless it was an emergency.  Unfortunately, my time at camp was going to be too long off.  Being at camp also made a felony seem a little more real to the powers that be and the corporate offices in California had decided that this was all just too much.  My Dear John letter was cold, legalistic and in form letter style.  My heart was broken.  I tried to reach out to my boss when the doors opened for activity time and I was allowed to use the phone, no answer.  I tried over and over and over and eventually I was just sent to voicemail before it even rang.  I would later find out that he just couldn't do it. It was too hard.  He had such a great heart and had fought so hard for me.  In the end, corporate minds were made up and there was no more opportunity to fight.  

 Panic sets in immediately!  What am I going to do?  How am I going to survive? No one is going to hire a felon!  Even if I tried to explain everything, no one is going to take the time to listen!  My world is really ending this time!  Why oh why did I take this deal?  What am I going to tell my family?  Everyone is going to be so disappointed in me! The enemy's voice was deafening!  All I could hear were his lies.  These lies from a forked tongue were on repeat in my brain.  I didn't buy an ice cream with my coupons (which was a Friday night treat, that had become a highlight of my weeks), I didn't want to do anything but run back to my cell. I didn't want to call home.  I just wanted to lay in my bed and cry.  To be completely transparent, for a fleeting moment I thought death would be the only thing to save me or my family.  (I have never ever told anyone this.....not even my family)  I am not kidding when I say the enemy was having a field day with my thoughts. Retrospectively, this was so very minor in comparison to everything else I had been through.  But......the enemy had found a way to get into my thoughts, if only for a moment.

I did drag myself out of my bunk after about an hour and make myself go over to the payphone and one by one call each member of my family.  I called everyone in my family every night during the 7:00 activity time, if I didn't call they would all be so worried..  My parents were my first call.  My momma and daddy are both encouraging me.  "We will get through this." my daddy says.  "God hasn't brought you this far to leave you now." are my momma's first words.  My daddy quickly agrees with her and says "Honey, we have been blessed. We will help you until you find a job."  My mom echos his thoughts.  I am starting to feel better.  I call my oldest daughter and she is just as encouraging.  I call my youngest daughter and she agrees with everyone else.  So, why was I dreading these calls?  I have the best family ever!  I am so dearly loved!  Thank you God for my family!  Thank you God for letting their words remind me of Who you are!  Forgive me Lord for letting myself get so far down the road of hopelessness!  You have spoken audibly to me and told me to trust You!  How could I forget this?  I will be still and let you lead me.  Let YOU work. 

I play a few card games and visit with my camp mates until time for lock down.  My spirits are lifted and even though my heart is still sad, I know God is with me. 

It is time for lock down and I get ready for bed. I am still  disappointed and anxious about what my future holds, but I do have hope and I do trust God.  My prayers that night are fervent and long, so long that I actually fall asleep while praying. During the night my dreams are vivid and from the Lord.  I awake with excitement and a thousand things running through my head.  During the night the Lord had shown me through my dreams a bakery.  A bakery called Baked Bliss. This was to be a source of income for me.  My grandfather had been a baker, but I had never thought of baking for a living. I enjoyed baking, but it was not something that I aspired to do for money.  Did I really have the skills to pull this off?  How would all of this work? So many questions, but mostly confident that this was to be.  It was still way early in the morning hours, earlier than 4:00 a.m. breakfast, but as I did not have a clock in my cell I didn't know exactly how early.  Okay God, was this really You?  I think it was You!  How can I be sure?  It was You, right? As I am carrying on this conversation a washrag slips from the rail beside my bed to the ground.  That's odd. I get an idea, Lord, if this is really from you........will You please some how put that washrag back up on the railing?  I know that fleecing is odd and not a new testament request and it shows lack of faith in my ability to hear God and frowned upon by many, but I needed to know. My dream was crazy and out of nowhere, so I thought it was God......but the enemy had played so many tricks with my mind the afternoon before. Right or wrong, I asked.  My eyes are closed and I am just asking God to supernaturally move a washrag for me....no big deal.  I open my eyes and IT IS IN FACT ON THE RAILING AND EVER SO SLIGHTLY SWAYING BACK AND FORTH. Okay then, how do I start a bakery?

It was Saturday, so I could call my girls and family during the first morning activity time, I didn't have to wait for everyone to get off  work.  My entire family was at my parent's house for the weekend.  I called and had my momma put me on speaker phone. I tell everyone about my dream and the washrag.  There is much excitement from the other end of the phone line.  Oh thank You Jesus for phone minutes and Saturday mornings where my whole family is gathered in one spot.  Everyone is on board.  This crazy out of nowhere, straight from our good and sovereign Father plan is just what we all needed.  

The Holy Spirit ever so gently reminds me that when I am still and trust in the Lord all things are possible. In fact things bigger and better than I can think or imagine are possible.  

If you can't read this, it says: Planning for our future and was posted by my daughter Aug30, 2012

What seems so minor now,  was one of my worst days, but not the worst.
 God always, always.....always shows up.
Why is it so hard to be still?

OFF TO CAMP

Do not let your hearts be troubled.

Trust in God; trust also in me.

~John 14:1

On August 13th I woke up thinking the end to a very long nightmare would soon be over. I kissed my daughters goodbye the night before and told them I would see them in a couple of days.  My daddy, momma and I loaded up in the car and set off to Colorado once again. We were all anxious to close the book on this chapter.  

I was to report to the courthouse at 1:00 p.m. on  August 14th for my sentencing.  We stopped at Taco Bell, which was 1 block over from the courthouse,  to grab a quick bite before I went to my sentencing hearing (if I had only known this would be the last meal I would eat in the free world for a month or so....I would have made much different choices).

I ask my parents to wait in the hallway, as I just could not stomach the thought of them seeing me facing the judge while he dealt out a sentence to me. I kissed them both and told them I would see them in just a bit.  I walk in knowing full well that I would carry a felony record with me the rest of my life, but I was going to be absolutely fine. I would not be going to prison, I still had a lucrative career, the support of my family and this would finally be over.

Throughout my day in court, my attorney and the DA bantered back and forth.  They had several conversations about me over the last 9 months or so.  They had argued back and forth over timelines, bank accounts, character (my character, the character of #1 stepson and consultant #3), they had shared tons of evidence and opinions with one another.  During these discussions (arguments) some truths from my side had come to the surface.  However, my attorney never tipped all the cards in our hand to the DA just in case things went to trial.    Now on sentencing day all of my cards are out on the table. At last real truths were coming out!  Even though I had plead guilty, I felt like MY side of the story was finally coming to light!

I had never once thought that jail was a possibility for me.  I cannot recall a single time my attorney mentioned to me that I might have to go to jail.  He said there would be no prison time and I just assumed that meant jail time as well.  With that being said, you can imagine my horror when the DA tells the judge that she recommends 180 days in jail!  I look at my attorney with my eyes as wide as they could open, as if to say, she's kidding--right? He simply pats my hand and redirects me eyes to the judge with a nod of his head and a raising of his eyebrows. The probation office in their pre-sentencing report suggest a suspended 180 days. The judge lands in the middle and gives me 50 days.

It is now 3:00 p.m. and my attorney asks if I can report to the jail at 5:00 p.m.  The DA states "This is sentencing day.  Your client should have been prepared for sentencing.  I ask the court to not allow the 2 hour delayed reporting."  The judge agrees and with that a deputy comes in handcuffs me and prepares to take me out of the courtroom.  I ask my attorney if I can speak to my parents and he says "I am afraid not."  In the blink of an eye I am whisked out of the courtroom into a small little room where I will sit and wait until court is over.

My attorney had to go out into the hall and break the news to my parents.  None of us had any idea that this could actually happen.  I can only imagine what they thought.  I am certain the emotions were all consuming.  I have no words for how devastating this must have been.  My poor parents waiting for me to emerge from the courtroom in anticipation of a celebration dinner that this was over and then to head home.  Instead, they are making phone calls to my family, my boss and a few others telling them this horrible news.  This turn of events that we never expected.

I am sitting there on a bench in the tiny room just outside the courtroom doors.  I'm thinking, I should be crying.  I should be scared.  I should be devastated.  I should be angry.  I should, I should, I should. However, I am calm.  I am at peace.  I am not afraid.  I am okay. I completely accept this fact.  I feel God's presence.  Okay God, here we go!  I told You I would take you with me anywhere, so let's do this.

My heart does ache because I know my family is probably not as calm as I am about this whole situation.  I know my parents, my kids, my sister are all most likely crying and worrying about me.  Oh, how I wished I could just let them know that I was okay.  That I was going to be fine.  That even though I would miss them, God was going with me.  Hand in hand we were going to tackle this.

This was all GOD and His MERCY!  My typical reaction would have been terror!  I would have been so scared and afraid.  I would have been a complete basket case.  I would have been in a puddle on the floor unable to stand.

Other than worrying about my family, the hardest thing for me to wrap my brain around was the word jail.  I didn't want my family talking about jail. Being in jail wasn't something I could say about myself.  I decided I would call it camp.  That made it easier.  I could say camp without crying.  Jail......made my eyes swell with tears.  Camp, was just a little time away.    (and now the title of this little blog, 'campfires and promises'  makes a little more sense)


Court is adjourned and a deputy comes to take me to booking where I go through the same process as that early morning in November.  I answer lots of questions, surrender my clothing in exchange for a black and white striped jumpsuit, have my picture taken, leave my finger prints on a little red light pad, suck on a swab of foam until it is full of my saliva.  I am told I can get any phone numbers I need out of my phone, but I cannot text or call anyone. 

As I am signing some papers, I look up and I see my parents.  They are there to pick up my jewelry and drop off my glasses.  I wave and smile the biggest smile I can to encourage them.  I want them to know I am okay.  I ask if I can speak to them.  My request is denied.  So close, yet so far away.

After all the paperwork and such is completed, I am taken back to that tiny little cell tucked away in the back corner with the heavy door that has only a small window and a horizontal slot. This time I am given a blanket, a mat and an empty rubber cup.  This little rubber cup has an awful smell, I don't think I will ever forget the smell.  I can't really explain it.  It is just gross.  Everything I drink from this cup tastes just like the smell.

I am told I will be in this cell for the night and will hopefully be moved to the women's pod the next day.  I can't make any phone calls until I get to the pod and can order commissary.  If you have never been to camp, commissary is where you buy things you need while camping......the 'good' shampoo and conditioner, lotion, snacks, phone minutes, stamps, paper, coupons for ice cream or soda and so on. This means it will be at least 24 hours before I can tell my family I'm okay.  Tell them not to be sad for me.  Tell them to just keep praying and we will all be just fine.  Tell them.......be still.......

 You don't get under garments until you are moved to the pod.  I am not sure why this is a rule but it is.  Camp has lots of rules that don't make much sense.  Let me just vent a little here........
At this particular camp, in the men's holding area, all the men are in 2 big rooms with floor to ceiling windows.  There is a TV hanging in the corner and a small half wall that blocks off the toilet.  For women, each woman is sent to an individual cell with a big heavy door with a window for deputies and other employees to peak through without any notice.  The cell has a toilet that is not secluded in any fashion.  A woman must fully undress by pulling her jumpsuit down with no undergarments to hide any exposed body parts to use the toilet.  There is no protective half wall to hide any part of her.  There is no TV and no one to talk to.  A lot of things at camp, I don't understand.

I didn't sleep much that night.  It was cold, lonely, uncomfortable, I desperately needed to pee and I was worried about my family.  God and I talked off and on throughout the night.  It was long, but not unbearable.

I finally got the nerve to undress and use the restroom just after the deputy made his 15 minute check.  Just as I get my jumpsuit down around my ankles and I am sitting on this stainless steel toilet with no seat, a man peaks his head in my window. He quickly averts his eyes and steps back.  I am grateful he didn't just stand there and gawk at my basically naked awkwardness. He gives me plenty of time to get myself put back together and finally peaks in again.  He slides a piece of paper under the door for me to fill out.  It is the last little bit of paperwork to fill out before I join the other campers in the pod.  I fill it out and return it to him.  He returns shortly and tells me there is a back up in the system and it will be quite awhile before I get to go to the pod. He takes me from this lonely cell and moves me and another woman to one of the 2 rooms normally designated for men.

The woman in this room with me is wild eyed, her hair is a rat's nest and she is constantly walking up to the window yelling obscenities at the lady at the booking desk.  Oh joy!  I just thought it would be better to have someone to talk to and a TV to watch.  Careful what you wish for!

After several hours another young girl joins us in this room.  She is crying and nervous.  I recognize her as the cousin to my #2 stepdaughter's boyfriend.  She has been at my house several times.  She does not recognize me.  I start up a conversation with her and tell her who I am.  You can see she is a little more at ease and she is not wailing any longer.  She has been arrested for under age drinking and unlawful entry into a residence. Soon the wild-eyed girl joins our conversation and she also seems to calm down a bit.

My attorney comes to check on me.  I am so grateful to see a friendly face.  He is going to relay a message to my family for me and also tell them how to put money on my 'books' so I can buy phone minutes and such from commissary once I get to the pod.  Thank You Jesus, my family is going to know I am okay!  He also tells me the newspaper had another article about me.  I roll my eyes. He then tells me that the reporter actually reported some of my statements, has mentioned that 4 of the charges have been dropped and reports some of my truths.  He still writes unflattering things, but at least he has a little bit of my story in the article. 

It is several more hours before I go to the pod.  Walking into this area is the first time I felt fear.  I walk in during a time when the women are all out in a activity area.  There are 23 women in the room.  23 sets of eyes watching as I am escorted in. Some look a little rough, some smile at me, some just stare.  Deep breath, this is going to be fine.  I am shown to my bunkhouse (cell), and read a few rules.  I am then told I can join the other ladies if I wish.

This bunkhouse has a bunk bed, a small desk, a toilet without a seat.....but it does have a privacy wall, a sink, a bar covered window at the very top of the wall just above the top bunk and a big heavy door with a small window.  The mat on this bed is a bit thicker than the one I had received the night before, but still no pillow.  I am issued a set of sheets, 2 blankets, a plastic coffee mug (this one does not smell), a tiny toothbrush (no toothpaste), a tiny pen that is really just the refill part you put into an actual pen (I will later learn to use the open end of this pen refill as tweezers), a pair of undies, a sports bra, a pair of socks, a bucket to store my stuff in and an ID card with my booking number and my lovely mug shot.

This is going to be a long 50 days, but I can do it!

You really do rough it at camp.
New girl on the block.....cell block that is.
Sweet Jesus, don't leave me now.

STAY STRONG, KEEP YOUR FAITH AND PRESS ON

Do not conform to the pattern of this world,

but be transformed by the 

renewing of your mind. 

Then you will be able to test and approve

what God's will is, His good, pleasing

and perfect will.

~Romans 12:2

All of this mess might have been the #1 news story of 2011 as highlighted on December 31st by that snowy small town newspaper, but all of this was a very private matter in Lubbock, TX. With God's never ending grace, we were able to keep all of this chatter out of the news and only my family and a few select others even knew my entire world was literally being shaken to it's core.

In the early spring my job was quickly evolving and this kept me very busy.  I truly think God orchestrated this to keep my mind busy. There was a massive reorganization across the entire hospital system from ancillary departments, to administration to the revenue cycle.  I was currently the manager over patient access, which is a part of the revenue cycle.  Our corporate offices were in California and I was spending 1-3 weeks per month there working on policies, staffing structure, key indicators, etc.; I am busy.

In between trips to California, I am making trips to Colorado every 4-6 weeks.  My daddy and I are driving 14 hours there and 14 hours back for 20 minutes in the courtroom to have my case continued.  Again, every trip I make sparks a new article in the paper about me and my case. Every time they write about all of the charges and never mention 4 of the charges have been dropped.

During this same season, my youngest daughter gets engaged and my oldest daughter and her husband have purchased their first home and are starting to talk about babies.  There is so much joy in my life, that truly I find it difficult to have pity parties.  My faith and trust are at an all time high.  It doesn't seem logical, but in all honesty, my life is as good as ever.  Joy, happiness, gratitude and peace are my reality.

I won't lie, at night when I lay down for sleep I struggle with the not so happy parts of my life.  I reach out to my sweet Father in heaven and every single time He shows up and He is there to calm my nerves, reassure me  that He has good plans for me and He always - always reminds me to be still. 

One day I googled myself, I don't know what made me think this would be a good idea (it was not), I was shocked at what I found.  It was hurtful and ugly.  I found I was in various magazines, I had been a work study for a class at some university. There were on going web conversations about me, not from people I knew or that knew me, just people that had two cents they wanted to throw out into the universe about something they really didn't know anything about.  All of these things based off of words written from a single reporter that took only bits and pieces of the  juicy parts of the arrest affidavit.  A reporter that never went back and updated information as it came out in the case.  A reporter that sat in the courtroom each time I went and heard truths of my case and never found that information exciting enough for his article.

It was decision time, I had been given a plea offer from the DA that I could accept or I could go to trial.  I dug my heels in hard and almost yelled at my attorney, "Why in the world would I take a plea deal on something I didn't do?"  My attorney's response was full of logic and good explanation.  He explained that at this point the trial was going to be a he said/she said extravaganza.  Me against #1 stepson and consultant #3.  Very little real evidence from either side. The only tangible piece of evidence was those 2 pieces of paper I had signed.  There was no denying I signed the papers.  I could explain my side of the story. I could tell them my thought pattern. I could show where there were holes in their story. My attorney explained that I had a 50/50 chance of winning. He handed me a piece of paper with an estimate of his fees.  He reminded me what a popular story this had been.  He reinforced the seriousness of the prison sentence that could possibly be attached should I lose.  All of this was so overwhelming!  How do you stand up in a courtroom where truth is supposed to be important and admit to something you didn't do? How is this fair?  I had to think and pray about this.  The DA gave me exactly 1 week to make a decision.

I return home and I explain everything to my family.  We pray.  No one has a good feeling either way. 

I speak to my boss and explain my options.  He relays this information to that small little  group of people that hold my longevity at this hospital in their hands.  I felt like I was having a little mini trial right there at the hospital.  People probing and asking questions, me providing discovery and evidence, closed door meetings that sometimes took hours.  The anxiety as I awaited an answer was all consuming.  All I could do was pray.  Finally, my boss comes back with the verdict.They have agreed that if I take the plea agreement my job is secure. They have seen all the evidence against and for me. They believe me!  Here is the weird thing, they say if it goes to trial and becomes public knowledge in Lubbock, they cannot promise my job will be safe.  They have seen the truth and everything related to my case and believe I am telling the truth!

I call a family meeting to discuss this news from the hospital.  My momma is the first to speak up.  "I think God is telling us to take the deal."  Me, "I know, right?  I can't fathom me taking the chance of losing everything! I have worked so hard over the last 23 years to get to where I am. I have a group of people that are willing to stand by me and let me keep my job!  This is just simply a God thing."  I am saying these things out loud and in the very back of my mind I am thinking.......there is is no way I can be a felon!  This makes no sense at all!  Then I think, $150,000 for a 50/50 gamble!  Where am I going to get $150,000? I can't go to prison! My head is spinning, but my heart is calm.  When I remember to be still, I can think and I can hear the Holy Spirit.  I do feel like the plea is my best option.  Human nature kicks in......but I didn't do it!  I can't!  This is not right? Why haven't I been vindicated?  Holy Spirit taps me on the shoulder, um Lisa, you're doing it again.  Oh yes, Be Still....Be Still......just BE  STILL.

I once again vow to my Savior, I trust You and I will take You with me through whatever I have to walk through.  Hand in hand we can do this.

I call my attorney and tell him I want to take the deal.  He replies, "Smart girl.  Good decision.  I would have fought for you, but this was the right decision." I talk to the legal aid to set up appointments and court appearance.  She echos my attorneys thoughts, "Wise move." I am ready to defend myself to her, "But I didn't do...."  She interrupts me,  "Before you start in on me about you not doing it, hear my heart.  I know, yes I know,  you did not do this.  I also know how the world thinks and how the world works.  Not everyone listens to God the way you do.  Sometimes the enemy screams louder. Sometimes people make bad decisions based on a few hours of testimony.  There are innocent people sitting in prison and bad, horrible people walking around free."  I knew from these comments she has been praying for me.  I had no idea, I had just thought she was the legal aid doing as her boss had asked.  Filing things with the courts, reminding me to be here or there.  Sure, we chatted from time to time, but I had no idea she actually cared. 

I go to court and take the plea. I sign the papers and I am given instructions on a pre-sentencing screening. I am to come back in August for sentencing.  I know for certain that I will not see any prison time.   It was really fairly painless.  Of course the newspaper reporter is on hand to announce to anyone that will listen........that I have plead guilty.


It is now August and things are moving along with the reorganization at the hospital.  We are actually having every single employee reapply for their jobs.  This is a huge undertaking. I too have to reapply for my job.  I actually get the nerve to apply for a job that is at a director level.  What have I got to lose?  I actually get the job and a nice healthy raise to go along with it.

Myself and other revenue cycle directors along with HR representatives spend hours and hours interviewing hundreds of employees.  Decisions are made, job offers are made.  Some hard decisions were also made and some employees are offered different positions and others are offered severance packages.  My heart feels a little guilty that my job was not only spared, but I actually got an amazing promotion. I am grateful for God's favor regarding my own employment.  This was a very humbling time for me.

During this month I have been asked to gather character letters to present to the court.  I receive several letters from family and friends.  I am so touched by the kind words I read from everyone. I cry ever time I read them. My family was so supportive and showed such unconditional love throughout this whole ordeal. The letter from my co-worker whom I have traveled with, laughed with, cried with, had lunch with and been on so many journeys with wrote the sweetest letter,  The day my boss and I went to her office to tell her of all the tragic events that had been happening in my life was one of the hardest conversations I had regarding this whole big mess.  I loved her and cherished the friendship we had built in only a few short months! The letter from my boss was particularly powerful in the eyes of my attorney.  It showed that my character truly was one of honesty and trying to do the right thing. I am attaching it here (with personal information blacked out).  I am attaching it as it will play a role in a future posting.

My parents and I have traveled to Colorado for sentencing day.  I see the light at the end of the tunnel!

I enter the courtroom nervous, but confident.  I was not quite prepared for how much talking from both sides would take place.  During the course of the hearing, my attorney becomes so flustered with how things are going that he literally has to ask the judge for a break.  He is beet red. The judge asks why he needs a recess and he states "My blood pressure is really high right now and I desperately need a moment to wash my face and run to the restroom."  This is an attorney that has tackled murder cases and violent crimes.  He is very well respected and has a great record.  We aren't in a trial, only in a sentencing hearing.  At this point, I become a little more anxious.  He returns, I make a statement to the court, the DA has lots to say and now it is time for the judge to order sentencing.  My heart is pounding, I am ready to get out of there, go get my parents (who I left in the hallway, because I couldn't bare for them to see me in the courtroom) and start the long drive back home for the last time.

I am asked to stand and again, I obey. The judge gives the following sentence:

8 years probation
500 hours of  Community Service
Restitution, with a restitution hearing at a later date
and...................................
50 days in jail.



Oh my goodness.
Wait, did I hear you correctly?
Don't you know I don't belong in jail?
This......this was very close to my very worst day.

BE STILL...

For I know the plans I have for you, declares

 the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 

plans to give you hope and a future. ~Jeremiah 29:11

As I am escorted back to my cold little room, I hear the chains of my shackles and the others as we march down the long dingy green hallway.  I am overwhelmed with the enormous bail that has been placed on my case.  I am thinking there is no way I am getting out of this place anytime soon.  Tears are quietly streaming down my face as we walk back into the booking area.  I see a man through a big glass window.  He is talking to the lady at the desk and I see him pointing in my direction. I am called out of line and over to the desk.  I am introduced to the man with the kind voice from earlier.  He tells me I will be out of there in just a few short minutes.  If I could have leaped through the big glass window and kissed him, I would have.  Through the grace of God, a great bond's man and my parent's love and hard earned money.......I was being set free!  I was going to sleep in my bed that night.  

The 14 hour drive home was long and quiet.  Neither my daddy or I said much.  He just held my hand and we quietly counted down the miles to HOME.  We drove way into the early morning, but it was worth it. 

I was front page news the next morning in that small little Colorado town. I was also plastered across many news stations.  The strangest thing to me was that all of this had transpired and not a single person other than my attorney had asked me my side of the story.  Not the detective, not the DA and not anyone from the media.

I didn't go into work until after lunch and I was dreading talking to my boss.  He was a strong christian man and I admired him.  He had only known me for 6 months.  He knew my work skills, but didn't know me.  Before the holiday, I had told him I needed a couple of extra days off.  He didn't ask any questions as to why and I didn't offer any details.  I trusted him and up until this point he trusted me.  I walked into his office and literally blurted everything out.  Told him the whole dirty story.  He was shocked, looked like a deer caught in the headlights and had little to say.  He told me he needed a minute and that he would come find me later that afternoon.  I went to my office and did my best to work.  

When he walked into my office, my stomach immediately tightened and I prepared myself for him to tell me I no longer had a job.  Instead he said he was going to tell the VP of HR everything that was going on.  He was going to see what his options were and pray about what he should do.  He headed out of my office door, turned around and said "See you tomorrow.  We have lots of work to do, so get some rest."  I went home with a tiny tiny hope that things were going to be okay with my job.

The next day I had a meeting with my boss and the VP of HR they both took tedious notes as I explained what had been going on.  They had spoken to a handful of people about the situation.  They were very blunt and honest and told me some people wanted me out the door that day.  Glory to God!  There were more that wanted to take baby steps and let me keep my job until further notice.

So when you get arrested there is this thing called discovery.  This is every bit of information the detective gathers and the DA uses to make a case.  As the defendant, you are entitled to a complete copy of the discovery.  Sifting through pages and pages and more pages of discovery you can find out just what the people in your life think of you.  It is astonishing!  The questions that are asked often don't even pertain to your case. 

I have this 749 pages of discovery and I read every single word.  To my surprise more sweet, complimentary, caring and kind things are said about me than negative.  The detective has interviewed soooooo many people.  None of my bloodline, but lots of other people.  I was actually humbled and honored by some of the statements.  The words of the people fighting against me though, those words stung. Truly brutal.  Some of their words were truth, truth that wasn't the best side of me.  Truth that was hard to admit, but mostly their words were fabricated tales of things that never happened. 

On a funny note, one of my employees (at the hospital in Colorado) that really thought she should have my job and I hers told the funniest story to the detective.  We had weekly leadership meetings for my department.  I had 7 mangers that worked under me.  One day this particular lady came into the meeting and you could tell she had been crying.  We were a pretty tight-knit group and often started our meetings with just casual conversation.  How's your kids/spouse?  Did you watch Real Housewives last night? What are your plans for the weekend?  How much snow do you think we will get?  Girl, where'd you get those shoes?  So, it was not unusual for us to rally around her and encourage her.  She explained to us that her husband was being a jerk.  They had a big fight.  He was wrong, she was right.  She just wanted to give him a big ole swift kick somewhere south of the belt.  We all agreed that husbands can be that way sometimes and we, the wives, just had to deal with their jerkiness from time to time.  Well her comment about giving him a kick spurred on other conversation about what we would like to do to our husbands when they were being less than lovable.  Everyone had a story.  Some more thought out and vivid than others. When it came to my turn I told them that my husband was terrified of being sticky.  Like really, seriously, illogically afraid of stickiness.  So, I told them if he ever made me mad enough or hurt me I would just pop his knees with a skillet and cover him in honey while he slept. Totally joking.  Totally just trying to lighten the mood.  Well, when I read what she told the detective about me......this story was staring back at me in black and white.  She had conveniently left out everything that led up to that conversation and her own plans to punish her misbehaving husband.  I cracked up laughing as I read this.  Oh my goodness, really?  Why in the world would you have thrown that in there?  

After I finish combing through every bit of discovery I am somewhat relieved.  The 6 counts against me are devastating and ugly, but anyone reading all of this can surely see I didn't do these things.  It is right there, the holes in the story from #1 stepson and consultant #3.  The lies that don't match up with timelines and bank statements. The support of those that know me best. I am convinced this is going to be thrown out and we can all get back to normal.  I loved Jesus and He loved me and He was going to make this all go away!

I shared the discovery with my boss, who in turn shared it with the handful of people making decisions about my destiny at this particular job.  Again, some wanted me out and some could see that my story lined up with these details and the things I was being accused of just couldn't be fact.  Once again, my job was spared.  The VP of HR told me, "We are going to walk through this minefield with you and until something blows up, you have a job."  Once again, God is so good.

I am ashamed to say that at this point I am somewhat of a very arrogant Christian. I love Jesus and in my opinion it is obvious the ones fighting against me do not.  I was like, come on God, save me, vindicate me.  I'm your daughter and it is clear I love you way more than these other people do.  Put them in their place God!  Set this story straight!  I prayed and prayed and prayed, but so far nothing. 

This maybe way too much information for some of you, but I find I do my best praying and talking to God at times when I am naked.  The tanning bed, the shower, long baths and so on. I am very thankful that God made me and knows every part of me, because I seriously love to talk to Him during these quiet times.....when I am vulnerable......aka naked.  

One night I was in the bathtub praying.  Truth be told, I was angry and yelling at God.  Why hadn't He swooped in and saved me? All of a sudden I had his overwhelming sense of sorrow and sadness for being angry at God. I was compelled to literally crawl out of the bathtub and fall on my face and ask Him to forgive me and just help me.  So, that is just what I did.  Laying face down, dripping wet on my bathroom floor,  forgive me and show me Your will was now my prayer.  It was very powerful and He honestly audibly (if it wasn't audible, it sure felt like it) spoke to me and said "Do you trust Me?" I whispered "yes."  He said "Then be still and let Me work."

Then He got into the boat and His disciples followed Him.

Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake,

so that the waves swept over the boat. 

But Jesus was sleeping.  

The disciples went and woke Him,

saying

"LORD, save us! We are going to drown!"

He replied, 

"You of little faith, why are you so afraid?"

Then He got up 

and said to the winds and the waves....

BE STILL, and it was completely calm.

~Matthew 8:23-26

I have to make several trips back and forth to Colorado for court dates.  Each time I go there is another news story about me in the papers.  Each time it is less than accurate.  Each time it is only bits and pieces and never the whole truth.  Still, not a single person with any power in this situation has asked me or my bloodline a question.  My fourth trip to court 4 of the counts against me are dropped.  These were the counts that held the most weight and questioned my integrity the most. These were also the counts that when you read the discovery, you just couldn't make them hold up.  The only 2 counts remaining were related to those 2 pieces of paper I had signed on a horrible, terrible, rotten, no good day in February 2011.  Thank you Jesus!  

I learned a lot about our judicial system and about the media.  I won't go into details, but I will say that I no longer believe most of what is reported.

My DA was tough and he was on the fast track to higher courts.  He liked to win (I mean seriously, who doesn't) and this was a high profile case because it involved the hospital and a high ranking employee.  My attorney told me on several occasions that he wished I could get reassigned to a different DA, but he didn't see any possible way.  He didn't say these things because this DA was unfair or unethical, he didn't say these things because other DAs were less qualified, he said them because my DA had a strong winning record.  I diligently prayed about this and one day I get a call from my attorney and he says "I don't know how this happened, but your DA just got a big job offer in another city and you have been reassigned."  I told him I knew exactly how it happened and that my God was a good God. (Please note I do not mean anything derogatory toward any DAs on my case.  I am just stating that this one was tough and he was a very good DA.  I mean no disrespect to him or the court.  They have a job to do and it is not an easy one.)

At this point I just had a complete calmness and I KNEW it wasn't going to be easy, but it was going to be okay!  I promised God that moment that no matter what I was going to go through, I was taking Him with me.

As we get deeper and deeper into the he said/she said part of my case, my attorney tells me that if we go to trial it is likely my attorney fees will be well over $150,000.  So, now what?

Sometimes you just have to be still.

God always knows what He is doing.

He doesn't need our opinion or suggestions.

A day with God by my side is not my worst day.

STRIPES ARE NOT MY COLOR

Trust in the LORD 

with all your heart

and lean not on your own

understanding ~ Proverbs 3:5

I had been working at the hospital in Colorado for a couple of years when it comes time to upgrade our hospital wide computer system.  It is a huge undertaking and this is the season that 17 (yes 17) of my 153  employees decide to have babies!  It must have been a long cold winter...... or these 17  would do anything to avoid putting in all the work it takes to complete a total system conversion! Either way, it was well played on their part. We hire 3 consultants to come in and help us through this upgrade and baby boom.  

One of these consultants, let's call her consultant #3, happens to get engaged to #1 stepson. There is a very strong nepotism policy and because I am a rule follower I inform my boss that they plan to marry.  This is April and they plan to marry in October.  The upgrade will not be completed until mid to late December and I still have several more employees that will be having babies.  My boss and I have many discussions about timelines, upgrade, vacancies and end of year tasks.  He decides that she can continue to work until December 31 and then she must find another job.  This sounds more than fair to me. 

You should know that these consultants were all making a very hefty salary plus had their living expenses paid and a travel budget. They were paid under a 1099 status and were responsible for their own taxes.  

#1 stepson has never held a job for more than 2 pay-periods in his life, even to this day.  He either gets aggravated at something/someone and quits or he pulls something stupid and is fired. He couldn't hold a job, but loved to spend money. Up until consultant #3, he was good at buying things for a cheap price and turning around and selling them for a huge profit.  To be honest, this always amazed me.  He could buy a 4 wheeler for $400 and without doing a thing to it, turn around and sell it the same day for $4000.  I'm not kidding. Over and over and over he did this type of thing.  After consultant #3 started giving him access to her weekly paychecks he no longer had to put any effort into having money to spend.  She would get paid on Friday and by Monday if we asked them to go out to dinner they would decline because they had no money.  Just a reminder, she had zero living expenses come out of her checks, so he was literally plowing through her entire check in less than 72 hours.

I watched this cycle of her giving him complete reign over her money for a couple of weeks and finally had to say something.  She was literally giving him every penny and he was spending it as fast as he could.  She was not making her income tax payments and I knew she was headed for trouble.  After our talk, she decides to give me a portion of her check to cover her taxes prior to putting the rest in the bank where #1 stepson had complete access and control.  Together we put this in a lockbox and once a quarter we were to make a tax payment.  May, June, July, August every week she makes a deposit to the lockbox.  July we pay her tax bill. Now September rolls around and the wedding is getting close.  Consultant #3 does not have any help from family to fund her wedding expenses.  #1 stepson does not see the importance of a formal wedding and continues to spend all the money each week on what he pleases.  Consultant #3 really desires to have a pretty dress, flowers, a cake and so on for the wedding.  She comes to me and says she wants to take some of the money out of the lockbox to pay for the wedding.  She convinces herself that she will be able to cover the remaining amount due in October.  It is her money; I can give her advice, but she doesn't have to listen.  She did not head my advice.

Flash forward to February 23, 2011.....

Consultant #3 still has not found a new job.  Not because she couldn't, but because she didn't.  A letter arrives in the mailbox from the IRS stating she is 2 quarters behind on her taxes.  #1 stepson gets letter, consultant #3 has never told him she took tax money and paid for wedding expenses.  Consultant #3 also told #1 stepson that because the hospital wasn't able to finish out her original contract due to the marriage and the nepotism rules, they were going to go ahead and pay a portion of her tax bill in lieu of paying out her contract and she doesn't have any idea why this hasn't happened. None of which is true. Now, I will say consultant #3 was a sweet girl and was probably just trying to buy some time to figure everything out.  I feel in my heart of hearts that she never dreamed things would get so out of hand. She knew his temper and she was afraid. 

#1 stepson is furious with me because he states if I didn't have such a big mouth "No one would ever know we (#1 stepson and consultant #3) were married. She didn't have to change her name and she could still be working.  You (talking about me) love your job more than your family.  This is all your fault......" 

The papers I signed on this dreadful day were directly related to these things. The havoc caused in other areas of the hospital were #1 stepson demanding a check be written to consultant #3 for these things.  

Flash forward again to November 2011......

My sweet daddy and I have made the long trek from Texas to Colorado.  It is 3:40 a.m. on November 28th.  I exit the warmth and comfort of my daddy's car.  With tears running out of my eyes and down my cheeks so fast they are literally pooling in the indention of my collar bone, I dial the number to the sheriff's office.  I proceed to tell the deputy on the other end of the phone "I am here to turn myself in.  I have been told there is a warrant for my arrest and I needed to be here by 4:00."  I don't even have the words to explain how I felt as the big metal doors opened and the officer met me in the parking lot to place handcuffs on me.

Never, ever, ever .......  ever would I have thought I would be sitting in a wobbly plastic chair with my hands cuffed together answering questions about my identity and being read my rights.  Surreal. 

After all the questions are answered and the paperwork is completed, I am told to go into a room where they will take my clothes (including ALL of my undergarments) and in exchange I will be given a black and white striped jumpsuit to put on.  I do as I am told. I stop at a desk for them to take my picture, a picture that will be front page news the next morning.  A picture that will be on news stations.  A picture that is not facebook worthy.  After my photo shoot I am led into a very small cold room with a bench, a stainless steal toilet with no seat, a tiny sink and a phone with no receiver.  With the loudest echoing thud I have ever heard the heavy door with a small window and a horizontal slot shuts behind me.  I am all alone. I still don't know exactly what my charges are or how I am going to get out of there. 

At 6:00 a.m. a tray is slid through the slot with an apple, some toast and a rubber cup.  The lady on the other side of the door asks "Tea or koolaid?" I respond with "Koolaid please."  The lady says "Hold your cup through the slot and I will fill it up."  I do and she does as promised and without another word walks away. 

Every so often a man walks by, looks at me through the small window and walks away.  After several trips I finally get the nerve to ask him what was going to happen to me.  He told me I needed a bail bond's man and an attorney and that I would see a judge at 1:00.  I asked how I went about getting the bail bond's man and he chuckled and said "Well, you call one." He leaves and comes back with a list of bail bond companies. Without instructions on how to use this phone on the wall with no receiver, I finally figure out how to call a bond's man.  He is kind and not at all what I expected.  He asked if I had an attorney and I tell him I have a divorce attorney.  He states "That's a start." I give him my attorney's name and my daddy's cell phone number.  He assures me that everything is going to be okay.  He tells me to call him back in about an hour and he will hopefully be with my daddy and I can talk to him for a second. 

The longest hour  of my life to date passes (I am calculating by the number of times the deputy walks by and looks in my window, I have decided he is coming every 15 minutes or so) and I call the bond's man.  My daddy is with him. Thank you Jesus!  Thank you!  

The quivering in my daddy's voice as he says "Hang in there baby girl, we are going to get you out of there.  I love you." was almost more than I could handle.  I had been brave and strong and full of faith since the moment I got the call from the detective.  Those kind, heart felt, bottom lip quivering words undid me.  To this day, as I type them and remember them so vividly tears are again running down my face.  

Just as I hung up the phone and collapsed on the floor heaving heavily in sorrow and distress, but so thankful to be loved and cared for there is a tap on the window.  I force my eyes up and see a man standing there. He motions for me to come over.  It is the detective.  As he speaks to me, he has the same compassionate voice he had at the end of our call almost a week before.  He explains to me that he doesn't know if I did the things I was accused of or not.  He states he wants to speak on my behalf at the arraignment regarding my bail.  He tells me he is the fact gatherer and the DA makes the decisions on charges to be filed or not to be filed.  His talk is strangely comforting to me.  

A few minutes before 1:00 I am shackled at my wrists and at my ankles and escorted down a long dingy green hallway into the courtroom.  I'm a few down on the docket, so I listen as the magistrate reads off other inmate's counts and decisions are made. I am a complete nervous wreck.  My name is called, I am asked to stand.  I obey.  Six counts are read against me.  Six horrible counts.  I am asked, do you understand what you are being charged with?  I say yes, but I honestly don't understand them at all.  Not at all. Even if she had read them again, I still wouldn't understand, so yes is the best answer. She says my bail is $100,000!  I almost fainted.  Seriously, knees buckled, room spinning, I can't hear anything,  I need to throw up almost fainted.  At this point the detective stood up and asked permission to address the court.  Permission was granted and he stated that he felt like I should be released on a personal recognizance bond.  He stated that he called me and I did just as I was told.  He stated I could have stayed in Texas and they would have had to hunt me down and bring me back, but I came just as he had asked.  I could have ran, but I didn't.  The DA said no and the magistrate agreed.  $100,000 bail and I will need permission to leave the state of Colorado to return home........gavel slammed, end of story.

I told you it wasn't my best photo shoot.....and just for the record.....Not my worst day.

YOU MUST BE MISTAKEN, DONT YOU KNOW I AM A RULE FOLLOWER?

And we know that in all things God works for the good 

of those who love him, who have been 

called according to His purpose. ~ Romans 8:28

Okay Lisa, pull yourself together!  Call your momma, daddy and your daughters.  For several hours these words were echoing through my brain.  I didn't want to call. I didn't want to tell everyone all this horrible news.  I didn't want to be saying the words that were my truth.  I didn't want to be a failure.  I didn't want my family to feel all of these emotions, hurts and fears.  

When I finally put my big girl panties on and made the calls I needed to make, I felt like a small portion of this heavy weight was lifted off of my shoulders.  I had a team of prayer warriors and WE were going to get through this!  

After lots and lots of prayers and discussions and more prayers and a few more tears it is decided that I will move back to Texas.  My oldest daughter and sister (and her family) live in Lubbock, my parents still live in Big Spring and my youngest daughter will finish out her year at CU and then come to Texas for the summer (with hopes from this momma that she will decide to stay).   I very quickly get a job at a hospital.  It is not quite as good as the job I held previously, but it is a job and it is enough.  I can finally breathe again.  I am not crying myself to sleep every night.  There is the smallest glimmer of normal and happiness is steadily becoming a natural part of my days.  I am dealing with the loss I have suffered and I am leaning on God like never before!  

Within the first 90 days of employment I am given a promotion and a promise of another promotion within the next 3-6 months.  When asked......how are you?  I can honestly say without hesitation or a catch in my throat, "I am well. God is good."  It is funny how hind-sight, time and God's mercy can bring such clarity to a situation and true joy to your soul.  

Six months have past since I moved back to Texas and started my new job, things are going splendidly!  I have not only been promoted once, but 3 times which has increased my salary 2.5x my original offer.  My youngest daughter has in fact moved permanently to Texas and she has met a wonderful boy.  Yippee Skippee!   The holidays are so close I can smell the turkey and almost taste the pumpkin pie! More often than not, my heart is happy and my soul is at peace. 

It's the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and.....BOOM!  I am knocked to my knees once again! I am walking across the sky bridge and my phone rings.  It's a Colorado number.  I answer wondering what friend has a new number. The voice on the other end asks for me in a matter of fact, stern way. This is most definitely not a friend.  I tell him, "This is she."  I am thinking, oh my goodness what kind of trouble is #1 stepson in?  Historically when I get phone calls with the voice on the other end less than friendly, it is something related to a mess he has gotten himself in. To my utter disbelief, it is a detective asking me if I was in Colorado.  "No." I say. "Do you plan to come back anytime soon?" he asks.  In a shaky voice I respond, "Absolutely not! Why do you ask?" "Well, I need you to return because there have been charges filed against you.  You will need to come and turn yourself in." is the reply I hear from this stern voice. I beg the detective to give me more information and details.  The only response I receive is that the papers I had signed months before are now in the hands of the DA.  The voice on the other end softens just a bit (probably because I was crying so uncontrollably that he finally felt a little bit sorry for me), and he in a nearly compassionate tone suggests I should not come this week, as it is Thanksgiving in a couple of days and the docket will be backed up. He instructs me to be at the courthouse at 4:00 a.m. the Monday following Thanksgiving to turn myself in.    Trembling in disbelief and nauseous I hang up the phone and in the middle of the sky bridge fall to me knees and basically yell out to God.......are You kidding me?  

There is something you should know about me, I am a rule follower by nature.  I like rules.  In fact, my mom told me not too long ago that I have been a rule follower from the moment I was born.  I was born on the exact day I was due.  Doctors told my parents I should be born on March 6th and so it was.  From the moment I entered this world, that is how I rolled.   Growing up I was far from perfect, but I rarely got into any real trouble.  I was a rule follower and I hated to be in trouble.  I still hate it to this day.  Following the rules wasn't always fun, but I did it anyway!  

I went to parties and such as a teenager, but I was the one with the clenched jaw and shaky stomach when things started getting out of hand.  I was the girl that would pretend to pour a little something extra in my sonic drink and wipe the tiniest of drops actually left on my fingers from covering the hole of the bottle on her lips just in case someone was close enough to smell my 'breath' or walk around the party with a beer can in my hand that had its original contents swooshed down the drain and replaced with a splash of diet coke and water so it had a beer color should I accidentally spill it. I wanted to be with friends and hang out, I wanted to be cool; but more than anything, I didn't want to do anything to get me into trouble.  I had a knack for knowing just when things were about to get ugly.  Retrospectively, I know this was the Holy Spirit.  I probably saved more of my friends from getting in trouble than they really know.  When I got uncomfortable with the way things were going and my teeth started chattering through my clenched jaws, I was the one saying......Let's get out of here!  This isn't fun anymore, aren't you ready to leave? Those same people that I saved from being in trouble were very often annoyed with me.  Annoyed until we were driving away and passed police cars headed in the direction we just came from.   Oh, then they were thankful for a sober, rule following friend that begged them to leave just as things were getting 'good'.  I didn't want anyone to be in trouble.

One night I walk into a  party and there sat my sister.  My sister is 3 years younger than me.  She was a good girl, but she didn't worry quite as much as I did about getting into trouble or following rules.  I don't believe she was drinking, but she had been in a squabble with another girl.  During this little altercation, the other girl poured beer on her and she smelled like a brewery.  I couldn't stand the thought of her getting into trouble when she got home, so I literally drug her to the bathroom and MADE her wash her hair. Yes, right there at a party, I am forcing her to stick her head into a sink and let me wash the smell of beer out of her hair! I am sorry I embarrassed her that night, but I am not sorry that I loved her so much that I couldn't stand the thought of her getting in trouble when she got home. Thankfully, she forgave me for being a little bit crazy and we are the best of friends.

I was the girl that stopped at the pay phone to let my parents know if my plans changed.  I was never late getting home. I might be right on time, but not late. Well, I was never late until we moved and my drive was a bit further. My parents had sold our house and until they closed on the new house, we were living at the Whip In Camp Ground in our travel trailer which was about 12 miles outside the city limits.  During the first week of living a little further out in the country, I was late twice. I was grounded for the first (and only) time in my life. Being grounded was miserable enough, but grounded in a 32 foot travel trailer with my entire family squished together on a couch meant for 2, with no phone and rabbit ears for TV service was absolutely torture!  This just proved once again that rules are good and they should most definitely be followed. 

Still not my WORST day.

Rules are our friends, we should follow them.