Packing the Books

So, as I have been packing to head to what I call home, Kentucky, I have been reflecting on what and why we keep certain things in our lives.

I am a impulsive person. I do not stand for verbal or physical abuse, but I am too quick to react. We tend to be a listener to the people we interact with. We also believe what we read, see or hear. As I packed I found three books. These three books have traveled with me from house to house. From California to Florida and to KY. One is the book of Mormon, the newest is the Mormon’s version of the Holy Bible. The other is the other two are also two versions of the Bible.

While we all search our phones on Facebook, (Ok, I am not a reader, but more of a who is posting a cute dog or horse picture), why don’t we pick up a bible instead?

If you ever wondered if there is a God, I have several times in my life that I know he or she exsists.

In 2014 or 2015, my mom, Peggy Bower, had been experiencing weakness & numbness for no aparent reason. On Belmont Stakes day (that is how we racetrackers remember things), Mom fell down in the house right after coming home from work. I took her to the emergency room and the only test they did were heart and blood flow related diagnostics. Nothing came up, so she would just rest and see if any stregnth came back. We were waiting for some labs to come back to rule out cancer and other diseases. Mom was resting and there was a knock at my door.

Two young missionaries rode over on bicycles and approached my door and my door alone. I opened the door and let them in. Totally uncharacteristic of my normal, “get the hell out of here” usual greeting. They gave me a bible, took no money and offered a prayer for my mother.

The next day, she had an appointment with a neurosurgeon to read her MRI. He admitted her that minute and surgery was performed to remove one of her vertabraes and corrected all of her symptoms. She was back to driving and being normally active within a week.

The missionaries never came back to my door. I thought about attending their church, but I just lit candles at the catholic church I attended. But the missionaries left the book of mormon, another version of their Bible, and I still pack it up upon each move I make. Yes there is a God.

This was my Mom’s neck MRI showing the pressure on the spinal cord. She was working with this injury every day. I wish I was as tough as she was.

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