 It wasn't very long working as a computer programmer at the Army Proving Ground in Yuma, Arizona, when my employer wanted me to be in charge of the Army's Equipment Management project. To be in charge of this project I had to get special training in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. I was excited about my new job and the training that I would get. I was determined to do the best that I could possibly do to please my employer. I was looking forward to going on this trip. I made arrangements for my son to stay with a family whom we had met at church. The family were wonderful people. They originally came from Mexico. The mother didn't speak English, but the father and the four children all spoke English very well. The children were all very close friends of my son for they all attended the Yuma Academy. At the Yuma Academy, there were not a lot of children so there was only one classroom for all the different grades. Just about everything that could go wrong regarding the Pennsylvania trip went wrong. At the last moment, my husband decided not to let me go. He had on another occasion canceled a trip to Illinois that was scheduled for me. It did not look good to keep canceling trips that were meant to help me advance in my career. If I were to get promotions, I had to go on these trainings and seminars. Many of these trainings were done out of state. As an employee, I felt that I had to abide by the rules of my employer and go on these trainings and seminars OR quit working altogether. But my husband wouldn't let me quit. I purposed in my heart not to let my husband's insane jealousy get in the way of my career advancement. I did not feel that I was being contrary and insubmissive to him at all. He was difficult and couldn't be reasoned with. He was insanely jealous of my boss. He was jealous of my women friends. He was even jealous of my son. He was such an insecure man, and I felt sorry for him, but I would not let him jeopardize my career in any way. I was determined to go on this trip, but Gary was more determined than ever for me not to go on this trip. I gave him all the reasons why I should go, and he gave me all the reasons why I should not go. Arguments ensued. One thing led to another and before I knew it, all my clothes, suitcases, shoes, and travelers checks were in his possessions, and he wouldn't give them to me. Somehow, the Police came on the scene. I don't remember who called them, but the Police were begging Gary to give me back my clothes. They said to him: "What are you going to do with her clothes? You cannot wear them." "They are community property" was his curt reply. The Police were not able to persuade him to give me back my clothes. At this point Gary was burning with anger with me, with the Police, and with the world in general. It was obvious that it would not be safe to be with him at home now, and at the recommendation of the Police, my son and I were escorted to Safe House, a home for battered women and children. When I called my employer and told him about the situation, everybody at work pitched in to make it possible for me to go to Pennsylvania. So, I went to Pennsylvania with borrowed clothes, borrowed suitcases, borrowed shoes, borrowed money, borrowed everything. But you know what? The borrowed clothes, shoes, suitcases, etc., were newer and better looking than my own clothes, shoes, suitcases. While Gary was exulting thinking that he had succeeded in not letting me go to Pennsylvania, on the contrary, I went to Pennsylvania in high class and style and plenty of money. But I was weary and heavy-hearted because all were not well at home with me and Gary. As hard as I prayed about the situation, things had not improved, and my son was being adversely affected. It was in the middle of class when I received a call from Yuma. My heart sank when I picked up the phone. It was the Principal of the Yuma Academy. The Mexican family that Michael was staying with had gone to Mexico to visit relatives. While in Mexico, Michael contracted something and was deathly ill. "The family and Michael are back in Yuma now", the Principal said, "but Michael is still very sick." Now, I was distraught. I was worried sick about my son. I should be there to take care of him. He was never sick without me by his side. If everything were fine in our home, he would not have gone to Mexico and gotten sick. He would be in his own home with his stepdad. I knew that Mike was missing me on top of all that was happening to him. We were never separated. Even in the best of times, I wouldn't leave him even for one night with anyone including my own relatives for fear that something bad would happen to him. Now here we were thousands of miles apart and him sick. I started crying and couldn't stop. I was furious at Gary and blamed him for everything. I blamed him for Michael getting sick, and I hated him. I hated him with a passion for what he was doing to us. I hated everything about him. I regretted ever meeting the man. I didn't want to see him ever again. I kept thinking about the "what ifs" in my life--what if I had not married him, what if I had not come to the United States, what if, what if, what if... In my mind, I was finding it difficult to deal with the present--the sorry state of affairs at home, Michael in Yuma sick, and I was in Chambersburg thousands of miles away unable to do anything. I never felt so helpless and alone in my whole life. There was nothing I could do but turn my aching heart and my hatred toward Gary over to God. I needed assurance of His love, His forgiveness and His cleansing power. More than ever, I needed His sustaining grace to see me through. Like Jacob, I wanted to take a hold on God and not let Him go. I got down on my knees and prayed as I have never prayed before. I begged Him to take away the bad feelings, the anger and resentment, the hatred I had toward Gary. I wanted Him to take total charge of my life and bring peace into my troubled life. I prayed for my son's recovery claiming His promise that "The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing: thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness." Ps. 41:3. When I poured out my heart and told Jesus everything, it seemed that the heavy burdens rolled right off my shoulders. I knew God and His angels were near for I felt a sacred presence and a peace deep within my soul. The assurance of His great love for me, His mercy and forgiveness swept over me like a refreshing dew that calmed my troubled spirit. I knew that Mike would recover. Oh, I was filled with joy unspeakable, and I praised God for His love and mercy and for knowing that I was not helpless and alone in faraway Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus; Are you grieving over joys departed? Tell it to Jesus alone. Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus He is a friend that's well-known; You've no other such a friend or brother Tell it to Jesus alone. Do the tears flow down your cheeks unbidden? Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus; Have you sins that to men's eyes are hidden? Tell it to Jesus alone. Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus He is a friend that's well-known; You've no other such a friend or brother Tell it to Jesus alone. Do you fear the gath'ring clouds of sorrow? Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus; Are you anxious what shall be tomorrow? Tell it to Jesus alone. Tell it to Jesus, Tell it to Jesus He is a friend that's well-known; You've no other such a friend or brother Tell it to Jesus alone. --Jeremiah E. Rankin 
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