I am excited and can hardly wait for each new morning —  To greet the Lord God my Creator and sit with Him.  To watch Him paint the morning sky and the earth, for the day, and awaken the life that fills it.   I am a “New creation” full of life.  Filled with joy. But I wasn’t  always that way.

One day in the early spring of 2009 I collapsed on my living-room floor.  I was only sixty two years old.

I had been sick for a little over a year, steadily going down hill, deteriorating.  No one knew why.  It had started with panic attacks.  I went through all kinds of medical testing and the doctors could find nothing wrong with me.  I was physically very healthy.  Then I started to have violent shakes, almost like seizures.  They would last from a few minutes to all day long.  I started to loose weight.

Finally the doctors felt that I was suffering from a very deep depression and complicated grief, having lost my wife, my mother and my brother in a short period of time a few years back.  I had been their only caregiver over the course of five years with no break until they passed away in the last eighteen months.  No time to grieve.

So I started medications and counseling.  But I continued to worsen as the months went by.  Nothing was working. the seizures worsened.  I was in and out of the hospital for weeks at a time.  There was a continual changing of medications, but nothing was working.  I went from walking five miles a day to hardly able to walk down my hallway.  My speech all but stopped. Rarely saying a word.  I had gotten down to one hundred and forty pounds.  Finally after months the doctor told me the only option they had left was “shock therapy.”  I went through several weeks of that to no avail.  The doctor told my daughter at this point I was suffering from the “failure to thrive syndrome.”  And – that perhaps I didn’t have long.

Now I want you to understand that I am a Christian.  My family, friends and my church had been praying for me.  Laying on hands and the like. but nothing seemed to be working. I would go to worship every week. I was in constant prayer.  I just kept getting worse and worse –  and then came that fateful day on my living-room floor.

It was as I was laying on that floor that for the first time, I realized that I was dying.  I couldn’t get up.  I could only whisper.  The Lord opened my eyes to see.  I had lost the will to live. I had lost my faith.  I had given up on life and didn’t know it.  It was now almost five years and everything had caught up with me.  In those moments I became terrified.

I started crying out in barely above a whisper.  Come — come — come!  I was crying out to the Lord, but didn’t even know that, then.  After a short while ( I don’t know how long), by the power of the Holy Spirit – came a friend of mine.  He came through my door and picked me up and put me in a chair.  He gave me some orange juice I remember.  He fed me something to eat.  He helped me up and down my hallway, taking up to five or ten minutes at a time.

After that day —  everyday someone would come by and make sure I had something to eat, a shower and clean clothes to wear.  That went on for awhile, perhaps two weeks I don’t know for sure.  I got a little stronger, but no dramatic changes.  Still didn’t talk much, still had some tremors and walking was only a little better.  Then one morning — it happened — A MIRACLE!

I had just gotten up out of my bed and gone over to the window to open the blinds.  My window faces the west.  But as I was opening the blinds . . . .

Sunlight burst into my room . . .  and in literally an instant I was healed.   My mind was totally clear.  I could talk in complete sentences and loudly.  I could walk down my hallway normally.  The tremors had all but stopped.  I was excited to be alive and had hope.  I got on my phone and called a personal friend and started talking a mile a minute.  At first he wasn’t sure it was me and then we started laughing and shouting for joy.  In less than a month I was walking five miles a day again and gaining weight.  I was alive!

That morning on the floor, I had cried out to my Lord. He had come.  He had fed me and cared for me and then — suddenly — He had healed me.  He had raised me from the dead and given me new life!  Tinker had died and David now stands in his place.

Jesus, the Lord had come “for the one.”  The one lost sheep.  He had left the ninety nine and come for the one — me!

So now you know the story.

I bring you this web site to Honor my Lord Jesus Christ.  I take photos to share and stir your heart to remember our Creator.  If you don’t know Him yet, my prayer for you is that you too will cry  out to Him.  He is waiting.  He will come.

I have established this blog to share and encourage one another in this life we live here in these clay pots.  I hope the photos bless you and serve to remind you just who the Lord our God is, and who you are to Him.

I love to hear and tell stories of this walk with Him.  I look forward to hearing from you and we can even chat about a photo or two if you like.   I would like that.

The Lord’s Grace and Peace to you

Dave Kelly

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