{"id":841,"date":"2021-04-26T09:30:03","date_gmt":"2021-04-26T13:30:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/?p=841"},"modified":"2022-09-30T14:35:08","modified_gmt":"2022-09-30T18:35:08","slug":"her-story-j-proctor","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/her-story-j-proctor\/","title":{"rendered":"Her Story: J Proctor"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Once upon a time.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

These are four words that should be erased from any story. I will explain why later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I will begin by saying I loved writing my name. I would write it over and over. It was my own private happiness. My marriage was a strange, happy, surrealistic, hand-woven quilt. Each stitch was not like the other. There were times when I cried myself to sleep because my husband had said or done something that caused the waterworks to flow. But, most days, I was wrapped up warm, secure, and I walked around proud and smiling. I felt very loved. What could be better? I never worried about bills. I received almost everything I asked for and more. I took pleasure in making my husband smile. Wasn\u2019t that my job?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was a wife after all. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I suppose you want to know me before I was Mrs. Proctor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, many moons ago I was not a Mrs. anything<\/em>. I was Miss and very content to stay that way. Because I came from a small family. I had lived on my own from a noticeably young age. I have no siblings. Growing up was at times awkward. My family and I moved a lot. School was a breeze for me. So, for the most part teenage rebellion, the freshman 15, and the who am I <\/em>years had left me unscathed. While I watched some of my friends struggle with who <\/em>they were and what <\/em>was their passion. I had already answered those questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I loved to read. The places, the smells, impossible situations, where the characters traveled plus the adventures, they had opened a new world for me. But all books and no play can make Miss <\/em>a bit dull. So, I went to parties, met whoever for lunch, and because it was the mid-1990\u2019s I did a lot of networking. This was way before www.anything.com.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was living. Right? Was I living? <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And again, I will say Once upon a time<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Life as I knew it changed. Drum roll please . . . Miss became Mrs.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mr. Proctor was a big ole mountain of a man. His deep blue eyes always twinkled like he just heard some good news. He was not simply good looking he was striking. At over 6-feet, he always had a presence when he entered a room. Even after the diagnosis of terminal cancer, years later, his charming manner was ever present. Ahh cancer. I refuse to capitalize that word. Yes, something wicked had entered our lives – cancer had disguised his body.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Any moment I could take to pray, I snatched it. The string of painkillers I counted out every 4 to 6 hours looked like one of those friendship bracelets you make at summer camp. Only the \u201cpk\u201d bracelet soon morphed into a patch. I stitched into our martial quilt slow and with love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The last stitch I placed in the quilt was at Mr. Proctor\u2019s funeral. I understand you want to know about the day he died. I hear your groans about didn\u2019t I cry?<\/em> and did we have a farewell kiss?<\/em> I could say yes to all of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But, instead, I will tell you about the hand I felt touch my left shoulder while I prayed that night. My eyes were wet from tear after tear sliding down my face. I heard the words that changed my life forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not once upon a time, but from this moment on. I heard God’s promise–I HAVE NOT FORSAKEN YOU.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Although I was being led into a hollow and lonely path, my size 7.5 never felt the true jagged emotions they were walking on. The blood of Christ protected me. I was not and will never be forsaken.<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Once upon a time. These are four words that should be erased from any story. I will explain why later. I will begin by saying I loved writing my name. I would write it over and over. It was my own private happiness. My marriage was a strange, happy, surrealistic, hand-woven quilt. Each stitch was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":1578,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"blog_author":[33],"authors_name":[43],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/841"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=841"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/841\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":842,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/841\/revisions\/842"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1578"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=841"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=841"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=841"},{"taxonomy":"blog_author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/blog_author?post=841"},{"taxonomy":"authors_name","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/perspectiveministries.org\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/authors_name?post=841"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}