Bridge Builders

My name is Linda Fay Howelton.  I have Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD).  You probable are affected as well.  Check the lit of symptoms.        ..   Half way through a prayer you find yourself rehashing the day’s events or outright . falling asleep.            Continuously forgetting what God has done for you in the past.          .   Fidgety in worship service, checking the time and wondering if that last song was necessary.       .     Dismissive of the gentle nudge by the Holy Spirit to redirect inerrant thoughts and to seek God first.        .    Unable to focus on His word for an extended period of time.        .    Procrastinating when it comes to doing His will.        .    A fascination about what everyone else is doing instead of completing your own assignment.        .    Unable to process and/or apply sermons until we’ve heard it at least four times from 3 different sources.        .    Spiritual Attention Deficit Disorder runs in families. John 10:10

My thumb still hurts. A few days ago, my nail split in half so I decided to just rip it off despite the voice in my head telling me “Don’t do it!”   I knew it would damage my nail bed.   I knew it would bleed.   I knew it was going to hurt for a long time afterward but I did not want to take the time to find a clipper or look for scissors.   I did what I wanted to do in that moment.   When the deed was done, a wave of regret washed over me.   I applied pressure to stop the bleeding and covered my throbbing thumb with a Band-Aid.   For the next few days, the only thing that gave my self-inflicted injured thumb comfort was the protection and covering of the Band-Aid.   Psalm 91:1-4 91  He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High      will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. 2  I will say to the  Lord , “My refuge and my fortress,      my God, in whom I trust.” 3  For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler      and from the deadly pestilence. 4 

Holding hands is the last memory I have that marked the end of childhood for Jared and Zachary.  Those tiny hands intertwined in mine were a constant reminder of the daunting task of motherhood.  Two small boys depended on their parents for everything.  They had complete trust that we would fulfill our role without fail.  We would take them where they needed to go, shield them from danger, feed them, keep a roof over their head and provide a bed to sleep in every night.  With no questions asked or inkling of doubt, they followed our lead. Love was assumed.  Their future assured.  Eventually, their hand fell away.  It was time to let go.  Deep down, I wish I could hold their hands forever. Isaiah 41:13 13  For I, the  Lord  your God,      hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not,      I am the one who helps you.” God longs to hold our hand.  We spend a lifetime snatching our hand away.  His desire is that we have the faith of a child.  With nothing to f