<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010678737423440698</id><updated>2024-08-28T19:39:07.523-07:00</updated><category term="Acceptence"/><category term="Babies"/><category term="Faith"/><category term="Family"/><category term="Forgiveness"/><category term="Hope"/><category term="Journey"/><category term="Joy"/><category term="Laughter"/><category term="Life Story"/><category term="Love"/><category term="Miracle"/><category term="Pain"/><category term="Peace"/><category term="Tears"/><category term="transformed."/><title type='text'>Walk By Faith and Not By Sight</title><subtitle type='html'>My life is one that is pretty hard to describe, because the journey to where I am now is very strange and wrought with perils.  But here I am: a husband, a father of 2, a disabled veteran, and a man on a mission.  &#xa;&#xa;Life is hard, but God is good.  So join me, and come along for the ride.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2010678737423440698/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00442005189220123512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010678737423440698.post-7300262514839129662</id><published>2011-09-14T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T12:52:12.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Humble beginnings...or ..horrible beginnings?</title><content type='html'>Back in the fall of 1981 there was a 15 year old girl that lived in a tiny Maine town. &amp;nbsp;That young girl was becoming a wild child, full of bitterness and resentment that lead to a life of rebellion. &amp;nbsp;Seeking comfort and anything to dull the pain of her childhood. &amp;nbsp;It wasn&#39;t until 9 weeks had passed, that she realized she was pregnant. &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Due to the illicit drug and alcohol use, not to mention the smoking and partying that were daily parts of her life. &amp;nbsp;The doctors forced her to get an emergency ultrasound. &amp;nbsp;They thought the baby was either dead or deformed. &amp;nbsp;The ultrasound was for them to see if they needed to persuade her to end the pregnancy, to end her child&#39;s life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This young girl, was my mother.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As you can tell, no abortion happened. &amp;nbsp;No defects or deficiencies were found, and to everyone&#39;s surprise, I was healthy. &amp;nbsp;After realizing the severity of the situation, she was able to then start to protect her body and unborn baby and take me to full term. &amp;nbsp;The rest of the pregnancy was relatively uneventful for the most part. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But life outside the womb was still not that good. &amp;nbsp;She had just turned 16 and was forced to drop out of school, and find work to start making money. &amp;nbsp;The father whom she had been dating, seemingly disappeared from the scene. &amp;nbsp;She was so angry that he would not return her calls, and that he would just abandon her like this. &amp;nbsp;What, was he scared? &amp;nbsp;Did he not want to be tied down? &amp;nbsp;Not exactly. &amp;nbsp;But we will get to that another time, the bottom line is, he was not in the picture.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She reached the end of the pregnancy, and the birth day came along, and her father, mother, and one of her brothers were there at the hospital. &amp;nbsp;She still had not decided on a name for me yet, because she was holding out hope that her boyfriend would come back. &amp;nbsp;And she had already agreed to name me after him. &amp;nbsp;I would have been a Junior, but it didn&#39;t work out like that. &amp;nbsp;While at the hospital her mother made an announcement, that I was to be named after both my grandfather and uncle, Oscar Thomas. &amp;nbsp;This was not my mom&#39;s choice, and quite frankly she hated the name Oscar, but did not want to hurt her dad&#39;s feelings. &amp;nbsp;Afterall, despite all the bad he had done in her life, at least he was the one there with her at the hospital right now, right? &amp;nbsp;It wasn&#39;t like my dad was the one there with her...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The birth happened, and when I came out, I was a blue-gray color. &amp;nbsp;This is not uncommon, but the labor lasted so long, that this was a concern. &amp;nbsp;My body was limp and lifeless, and I was not breathing. &amp;nbsp;They tried to spank me but I was unresponsive. &amp;nbsp;They all thought she delivered a dead baby. &amp;nbsp;This young girl was devastated, all this for a dead baby. &amp;nbsp;But one of the nurses refused to give up, and basically started shaking me, and eventually I started to cry. &amp;nbsp;I have no idea how long this process all took, but it doesn&#39;t matter. &amp;nbsp;It was shortly after this that my mother secretly vowed that my name may be Oscar Thomas, but my name would be Tiger. &amp;nbsp;It took me half my life before I found that out, and found out why. &amp;nbsp;She told me that life was hard, and a lot of terrible things have happened to her. &amp;nbsp;But that I was one of the good things, the best things. &amp;nbsp;That I would be a fighter, and I would never quit, and I would be a survivor, that I would have a strength.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As time passed, my mother and I stayed at her parents home, and my grandparents were amazing to me. &amp;nbsp;My uncle also lived there too, as he was still only 14 or 15 years old, and he was my best friend for those first years of my life. &amp;nbsp;Despite the love my little family gave to me, I still didn&#39;t have a dad. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Years started to pass, and I didn&#39;t understand why my friends had daddies and I did not. &amp;nbsp;We didn&#39;t talk about it much, but as time passed, my mom just told me that they just did not work out. &amp;nbsp;That he just didn&#39;t want to be with her, and that he left. &amp;nbsp;Whether it was ever said or not, there was always a bitterness and pain and resentment that came with those conversations. &amp;nbsp;I grew up to hate the dad that I never had. &amp;nbsp;The one that walked out on not only my mom, but me. &amp;nbsp;I never knew what he looked like or anything, just that he was a piece of crap. &amp;nbsp;Time continued to pass and I grew older, and I still did not have a dad in the picture, and my mom told me that I probably would never see him. &amp;nbsp;And to a &amp;nbsp;kid, never seeings someone that you have never met, didn&#39;t seem like a problem. &amp;nbsp;She went on to tell me, that my dad was in prison. &amp;nbsp;I didn&#39;t really understand all that, but he was in prison for dealing drugs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have a lot of memories from a very young age, some are more congruent than others, but some are just shards and fragments. &amp;nbsp;That is probably good thing, because there may be a lot of things that my mind has blocked out. &amp;nbsp;Unfortunately, there are a lot of things, that it didn&#39;t............to be continued.......&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;background-color: white; font-family: &#39;Trebuchet MS&#39;, Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: white;&quot;&gt;FXXMJ8GZ7BR4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/feeds/7300262514839129662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/2011/05/humble-beginningsor-horrible-beginnings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2010678737423440698/posts/default/7300262514839129662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2010678737423440698/posts/default/7300262514839129662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/2011/05/humble-beginningsor-horrible-beginnings.html' title='Humble beginnings...or ..horrible beginnings?'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00442005189220123512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2010678737423440698.post-1633707570865966319</id><published>2011-05-09T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T09:24:15.280-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Acceptence"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Babies"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Faith"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Forgiveness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hope"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Journey"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Joy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Laughter"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Life Story"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Love"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Miracle"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pain"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Peace"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tears"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="transformed."/><title type='text'>Forward: In the Hospital Room</title><content type='html'>We are going to go on a journey, but here is where we are now:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I am sitting in the Hospital room with my beautiful wife Alaina and our 2 day old son, Eli. &amp;nbsp;Things are great, and we are so blessed that they are both healthy. &amp;nbsp;There are a lot of babies that are sick right now, in this hospital alone. I know that first hand, because we spent the last 2 days in the NICU, where sick babies need to be tended to. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
See Eli was born quickly and there were no complications, but he was breathing very quickly with shallow breaths. &amp;nbsp;They monitored him in the NICU and during the process, they took a bunch of tests because they were concerned he had an infection. &amp;nbsp;Fortunately he does not have an infection, but to be on the safe side, they had to administer some antibiotics to his system. &amp;nbsp;At this point Eli is doing great, breathing and eating well, and we look to be on schedule to go home tomorrow with him. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are so thankful that Eli is healthy, just like we are thankful that our 2 year old daughter Carina is likewise a healthy child. &amp;nbsp;Not everyone can say that, but we can and it is not because of our own anything. &amp;nbsp;I am not afraid to thank God for not only protecting them, but healing them both. &amp;nbsp;But, it is much more than that too. &amp;nbsp;You see, we were not supposed to even be able to have children to begin with. &amp;nbsp;I won&#39;t go into all the medical details, but my wife had been told since she was a teenager, that having children was a very remote if non-existent possibility. &amp;nbsp;From severe endomitriosis to ovarian cists and other challenges, we were still given &amp;nbsp;not one, but two Miracle babies. &amp;nbsp;But considering that I myself have been called a Miracle baby as well, should we be surprised that we have been blessed with children as well?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, now I know better than thinking there is no hope, or that something is impossible, or that some things or people have no chance. &amp;nbsp;But that wasn&#39;t always the case, in fact, it was quite the opposite. &amp;nbsp;The places that I came from, and that I have been brought through, has been a metamorphosis. &amp;nbsp;I am no Optimus Prime, but I have been transformed, and I am excited to share that story with anyone that wants to laugh, smile, or cry.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/feeds/1633707570865966319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/2011/05/forward-in-hospital-room.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2010678737423440698/posts/default/1633707570865966319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2010678737423440698/posts/default/1633707570865966319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wbfanbs.blogspot.com/2011/05/forward-in-hospital-room.html' title='Forward: In the Hospital Room'/><author><name>Anonymous</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00442005189220123512</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>