The Day of Joy
No, I didn't make a trillion dollars, or win the PowerBall Lottery. I made it to 19 years with my bride, or I should say, she made it with me. Such a woman....such will, determination, love, wisdom, righteousness, stubborn desire to be an instrument of God to reshape the character of a self-centered, immature, irresponsible, underperforming law student, into enough of a man to look at myself in the mirror every morning without feeling I have to take a shower to wash off the slime that would palpably take over me. And being beautiful and sexy doesn't hurt, either.
In recent years she has been battered by the ravages of what menopause does to a woman in her early fifties. An out-of-control adrenal gland, firing off cortisol at the rate of a machine gun, renders her almost incapable of sleep. Her eschewance of drugs, prescription or otherwise, along with our lack of good finances, have kept us away from doctors and forced her to rely on God and good nutrition to give her the ability to sleep. Arthritic and fibromyalogic conditions, which causes her pelvic, knee, and other musculo-skeletal regions to become inflammed and infirm, causes her to sometimes walk like a woman much older than herself. It is sad to watch, and even sadder that I have probably helped contribute to her problem, with the stress that lack of finances and lack of wisdom have caused. For that alone I owe her complete love, fidelity, and healthy workaholism.
I love this woman, Gail Evelyn Wilson Fernandez. Unlike the benighted runaway bride, or perhaps flaky bride-to-be, Jennifer Wilbanks of Duluth, Georgia, this lady did not run from trouble....ever. Not from me, not from our children, not from the many other things that tried to break her. And there were definitely times that few would have blamed her for running. But she didn't, and she has a husband and daughters who would defend her to the death to show for it. Wendy & Jeanine's character---resplendent in their own right, is testament to Gail's character and inner beauty.
And she is, in the truest sense of the word, a Christian. Not the phony, hypocritical, self-righteous, tradition and institution-choked, one-dimensional plastic kind that seems to be all too typical of religious people in general and Christians in particular. But the kind of authentic kind, completely human in her spirituality, that has made faith in Jesus of Nazareth so attractive to others that He is able to command a faith of billions over two millenia. Young people from backgrounds as widely diverse as you can imagine embrace the faith because of her; young women from Rio de Janeiro to Paris to Seoul to Okinawa to Guangzhong to Prague to Houston to San Diego are able to call Gail their spiritual mother.
She is embarassed by this adulation, frequently points out the failure of others to heed her wisdom as somehow evidence of her own dysfunctionality. The heartbreak of her incredibly gifted classical soprano's voice inability to gain the opportunity to have the successful commercial audience she has deserved since her teens has been a sorrow that is a dagger in her heart and mine. And the rejection we continually had from traditional religious organizations--churches, as we sought to do His work tore at her soul, as much in its inexplicability as in its raw pain. But she never let that be her end, she did not let her brokenness break her. For that most of all I love her, and I am most motivated to work to make our later years as full of golden fulfillment as our earlier years have been with disappointment.
This is your day, Gail. I will not forget. I will not relent. I will not surrender. You shall see, as did your Lord and Master, "the fruit and the travail of your soul, and be satisfied." A little longer, my love. It will happen. Let all who read this be witness to my love, and my prophecy. Amen.
In recent years she has been battered by the ravages of what menopause does to a woman in her early fifties. An out-of-control adrenal gland, firing off cortisol at the rate of a machine gun, renders her almost incapable of sleep. Her eschewance of drugs, prescription or otherwise, along with our lack of good finances, have kept us away from doctors and forced her to rely on God and good nutrition to give her the ability to sleep. Arthritic and fibromyalogic conditions, which causes her pelvic, knee, and other musculo-skeletal regions to become inflammed and infirm, causes her to sometimes walk like a woman much older than herself. It is sad to watch, and even sadder that I have probably helped contribute to her problem, with the stress that lack of finances and lack of wisdom have caused. For that alone I owe her complete love, fidelity, and healthy workaholism.
I love this woman, Gail Evelyn Wilson Fernandez. Unlike the benighted runaway bride, or perhaps flaky bride-to-be, Jennifer Wilbanks of Duluth, Georgia, this lady did not run from trouble....ever. Not from me, not from our children, not from the many other things that tried to break her. And there were definitely times that few would have blamed her for running. But she didn't, and she has a husband and daughters who would defend her to the death to show for it. Wendy & Jeanine's character---resplendent in their own right, is testament to Gail's character and inner beauty.
And she is, in the truest sense of the word, a Christian. Not the phony, hypocritical, self-righteous, tradition and institution-choked, one-dimensional plastic kind that seems to be all too typical of religious people in general and Christians in particular. But the kind of authentic kind, completely human in her spirituality, that has made faith in Jesus of Nazareth so attractive to others that He is able to command a faith of billions over two millenia. Young people from backgrounds as widely diverse as you can imagine embrace the faith because of her; young women from Rio de Janeiro to Paris to Seoul to Okinawa to Guangzhong to Prague to Houston to San Diego are able to call Gail their spiritual mother.
She is embarassed by this adulation, frequently points out the failure of others to heed her wisdom as somehow evidence of her own dysfunctionality. The heartbreak of her incredibly gifted classical soprano's voice inability to gain the opportunity to have the successful commercial audience she has deserved since her teens has been a sorrow that is a dagger in her heart and mine. And the rejection we continually had from traditional religious organizations--churches, as we sought to do His work tore at her soul, as much in its inexplicability as in its raw pain. But she never let that be her end, she did not let her brokenness break her. For that most of all I love her, and I am most motivated to work to make our later years as full of golden fulfillment as our earlier years have been with disappointment.
This is your day, Gail. I will not forget. I will not relent. I will not surrender. You shall see, as did your Lord and Master, "the fruit and the travail of your soul, and be satisfied." A little longer, my love. It will happen. Let all who read this be witness to my love, and my prophecy. Amen.
Take care,
Cristina (Comment this)
With best regards,
Floyd (Comment this)