Category: God’s protection

Stuart took a direct hit from Hurricane Frances—our unwelcome guest for almost two days. We listened to the weather reports huddled around a battery powered television. Exhaustion kept us from following meteorologist recommendations to take the dog for a walk during the four-hour eye of the storm at 1:00 a.m. Sleeping was a better option—besides, we don’t have a dog.

We thanked God for bringing us safely through the storm and especially for weakening Frances to Category 2 winds from 96-110 miles per hour. We only had minor soffit damage and some downed trees, while older homes had major roof damage, as well as blown-out walls and windows. Trees and branches littered most streets and yards, and a daylight curfew was in effect. We couldn’t get to work, had no phone service for five days, and no power or running water for a week. Without air conditioning, we dripped perspiration and sleep was scarce.

To our shock, Hurricane Frances was a dress rehearsal for Hurricane Jeanne two weeks later. Jeanne was another direct hit and a Category 3 hurricane with winds from 111-130 miles per hour.The fierce winds slamming into the house were louder than Frances and caused the six sheltering with us to pause frequently to watch the sliding glass doors wave along their tracks. We had serious doubts about whether the house would hold up. But we trusted God as our refuge and fortress. (Psalm 91:2.)

In contrast to Hurricane Frances, our household was wide-awake during Hurricane Jeanne’s eye. We all went outside to view the damage and wonder at the contrasting calm. Robert and two guests swam in the pool to cool off. We praised God when we came through unscathed and the roof and porch screen remained intact. We lost soffit, trees, and the water softener lid. A neighbor found a stray lid in his yard and Robert was happy when it fit our tank. We were among the 97% of county residents who lost power and, once again, we went several days without phone service, or running water.

The 14 billion dollars in property damages caused by hurricanes Frances and Jeanne are light compared to Helene’s estimate of 30 plus billion dollars. And we were blessed that most lives were spared. Let’s pray that Helene is not followed by Hurricane Milton brewing in the Gulf of Mexico!

Image credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/key-west-florida-hurricane-dennis-86025/

This post is a condensed excerpt from the third book in my dwarfism memoir—ALWAYS AN ADVOCATE: Champions of Change for People with Dwarfism and Disabilities, Chapter 5, Destructive Forces and Direct Hits, https://angelamuirvanetten.com/always-an-advocate/.

You may also want to read:

• “20 Year Anniversary of the 2004 Hurricane Season.” https://www.weather.gov/tbw/hurricanes2004.
• “The 2004 Atlantic Hurricane Season: A Look Back from Above.” September 10, 2019. https://www.nesdis.noaa.gov/news/the-2004-atlantic-hurricane-season-look-back-above

• Dinah Voyles Pulver and Eduardo Cuevas. “Helene costs may top $30 billion; death toll increases again.” October 5, 2024. USA TODAY. https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2024/10/05/hurricane-helene-deaths-damage-updates-saturday/75530030007/

Because we only had one car, Robert had to drive me to Columbus on the weekend, leave me at a motel near the exam site, and drive back to Cleveland for work on Monday. I awoke on Monday morning to see snow falling—nothing unusual about that in an Ohio winter. However, to wake up on Tuesday—the first of three exam days—and still see snow falling was alarming. I had prepared for the exam with endless hours of study, but had not prepared for a blizzard that dumped about 12 inches of snow. My fear was that my pre-ordered cab would be a no-show. If I did not get to the exam site on time, locked doors would keep me from taking the exam for another six months.

I thanked God when cabs came for me at both the beginning and end of the day. It was a blessing to meet Yvonne and Paula at dinner in the restaurant across the street from the motel. They recognized me from the exam site and invited me to join them.

I would never have made it back to the motel without their help. They held onto me—one on each side—to stop me slipping and sliding in the snow and ice. When blocked by a wall of snow left in the wake of a snow plow at the motel driveway, a motel employee shoveled the snow and helped lift me over the snow bank. Preparing for such obstacles was not in the bar review material.

It was definitely a God-ordained bonding experience with Yvonne and Paula. The three of us teamed up for the next two days for ongoing support, meals, and rides. Our meal the second night at the Spaghetti Warehouse perked up our spirits and gave us the energy to get through the last grueling exam day.

On May 2, 1984, I woke up at 6:45 a.m. in a cold sweat. It was the day to call in for the bar exam results and I dreamed that I had failed.

When the operator reported excitedly, “You passed!” I was relieved to learn that not all dreams—or nightmares, in this case—come true.

I was just as excited to learn that my bar-exam friends, Paula and Yvonne, had also passed.

This post is a condensed excerpt from chapter 7 in “Pass Me Your Shoes: A Couple with Dwarfism Navigate Life’s Detours with Love and Faith.” Click on the title for a Look inside at the first few chapters, endorsements, Table of Contents, and a wedding photo. Link to retail sites on my website at https://angelamuirvanetten.com/books.

Right from the outset, Maureen discloses that she never thought her life would include so many painful events. So much pain that numerous words related to “trial” are needed to describe them: adversity, affliction, challenge, difficulty, discomfort, hardship, grief, tragedy, tribulation, trouble, and woe. Maureen’s many trials manifested in major depression, neck and shoulder injuries, surgeries, chronic fatigue syndrome, feelings of abandonment, claustrophobia, dengue fever, debilitating allergies, being physically unable to fulfill her dream of serving as a missionary, her parents separation, a difficult pregnancy, and her father’s suicide followed a few years later by her mother’s suicide.

Please resist the temptation to avoid reading “The Other Side of the Tapestry” because it’s too much of a downer. In an extraordinary way, Maureen lifted me up by sharing her gratitude for how God used each experience to teach her more about Himself. For example, she discovered that God’s unconditional love does not depend on her ‘performance.’ She found her refuge in God and trusted that nothing could happen to her without His permission. Maureen put it so well when she wrote, 

When we go through hard times, there is something more important than what we’re facing, and that is who is facing it with us. We need to cling to the who when the what makes us afraid.

This book is not only a testimony of Maureen’s faith, but also of the church as God intended it to be. In every struggle, she was supported by loving and caring church members involved in meeting her physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. They prayed, listened, gave godly counsel, shared her tears, accompanied her to hard places, did not judge, did housework, cooked meals, watched her children, and gave financial gifts. 

And in providing details of the depth of her distress, Maureen takes every opportunity to advise and encourage others going through their own ordeal. Permeated with Scripture references and applications, the book’s underlying purpose is clear: to glorify God and minister to others. This memoir does both very well. 

After reading Maureen’s book, Jennifer Sands—a 9/11 widow and author of “A Tempered Faith: Rediscovering Hope in the Ashes of Loss”—was reminded that a broken heart is not healed by explanations—it’s healed by God’s love and the promises in His Word.

• Expressing gratitude to “Almighty God in peaceably allowing a form of government for the safety and happiness of the people.” George Washington (October 3, 1789)
• Encouraging humility before God and seeking His Divine mercy during a cholera epidemic. Zachary Taylor (July 3, 1849)
• Acknowledging “our dependence on Almighty God and to implore His aid and protection” during World War I.Woodrow Wilson (May 11, 1918)
• Honoring the memory of the September 11, 2001 victims and comforting those who lost loved ones. George W. Bush (September 14, 2001)
• Rededicating ourselves to extending religious freedom to all people. Barak Obama (May 5, 2016)

Thankfully prayers are not limited to national days. People pray every day of the year and people with dwarfism are no exception. Although we pray about the same concerns as all humanity, we have more than our share of medical requests.

In a private Facebook group to which I belong, many seek and appreciate prayers. An inclusive request invites positive thoughts from those who do not pray.

The requests range from looking for a diagnosis or a qualified physician with dwarfism experience, a helpful doctor’s appointment, successful surgeries, good physical therapy results, to pain management. Some pray for a first time surgery and others that a surgery will be the last in a long succession. Prayer for unbearable, chronic pain which reduces quality of life to nothing is common.

Group members commit to pray, share good thoughts, and send get well wishes with a generous dose of emojis. Prayers are offered for surgeries with excellent results, quick recoveries, healing, daytime pain reduction, pain free nights, sleep, peace, courage, and perseverance.

Along with the prayers comes love, hugs, encouragement, advice and comfort from those with similar experiences. It helps to know we are not alone. We accept advice from someone who feels our pain, concedes that the road is tough, encourages us to set little goals at first, reminds us to take one day a time, and confidently asserts “you’ll get there!”

“God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”  2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (New Living Translation).

Service was also denied at the shipping clerk’s office. Robert couldn’t see over the counter so he called out, “Is anybody there?” The clerk replied “no.” Not so easily deterred, Robert took his cue from other truckers getting service. He slammed down our papers on the counter above his head and gruffly stated, “Shipping order to be picked up.” The result? Immediate action.

Ordinarily, trucks receive shipments by backing up to the warehouse loading bay. We drove right inside. Surrounded by rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling shelving filled with boxes, we had no idea how we would find my shipment, let alone get them it into the wagon. There were no workers in sight—until Robert got out of the car, revealing his stature. Suddenly, workers appeared from all corners of the building, convinced that Robert was a movie star or one of the millionaire real estate twins who were the same height and age as Robert. Their assumptions provided all the help we needed to locate and load my shipment into our wagon.

Our ordeal at the terminal was almost over—or so we thought. I was driving towards a warehouse opening when Robert yelled, “STOP.” I jammed on the brakes just before launching off the loading bay ledge. The whiteout of the continuous snowfall made it impossible to tell that this way out was for the birds.

Disaster averted, I backed out the warehouse entrance on level ground, and we started home. After only travelling ten miles in an hour-and-a-half, we pulled off the highway and found a motel. Then we learned that not everyone had escaped disaster that day.

The snow blizzard had also hit Washington, D.C. and Air Florida flight 90 had crashed into commuter traffic on the 14th Street Bridge before sinking into the Potomac River. Seventy-eight people were killed. Within a half-hour of the plane crash, three more people died in a Metro derailment on the Blue/Orange Line.

If Robert had been in DC that day, he could have been in the traffic on the bridge the plane crashed into, or on the Orange Line going to Ballston Station in Arlington. God’s hand surely protected us.

This post was adapted from my book,Pass Me Your Shoes: A Couple with Dwarfism Navigates Life’s Detours with Love and Faith, which sells at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books a Million and other retailers.