I think that I have always believed in angels, even though I might not have understood how they carry out God's work here on earth. As a little girl, I remember learning about the stories of angelic visitations in the scriptures. Believing in angels was an easy thing to do with the faith of a child. As I grew into adulthood and started to experience the storms of life, I didn't expect angels to visit me. However, I did pray to God and He did send me help and sometimes he sent it before I knew I needed it.

I am sure many angelic miracles occur around us daily without our knowledge; guiding our car around an icy curve, helping our child cross a busy street. God sends us Heavenly help in a myriad of ways. I am sure that my Heavenly Father has helped me on numerous occasions without me even being aware of it. However, I knew on this particular day He had sent help and He did it in the most unexpected, obvious, and loving way.

It had been almost a year and a half since the girls and I found shelter at the Women and Children in Crisis Center. After that night things changed rapidly and once the courts were involved the civil and criminal proceedings rolled along on their own accord. I now spent most of my energy on trying to provide for my daughters while dealing with the roller coaster of events that continued to play out in the legal system.

Despite the thousands of dollars I was still having to pay my attorney and also being solely responsible for supporting my daughters, I was still better off financially than when I had been married. I had my own bank account and access to my paycheck and the bills were being paid. My self-respect returned and I felt empowered. We were happy and safe, but there was absolutely no extra money. In fact every month there was a deficit, but it always worked out in unexplainable ways.

One of the first things I did to try and make our house a home was to paint every room. If your house is 800 square feet, paint is a pretty inexpensive way to clean things up and change a room. Also, it's cheap therapy. Initially, the entire house felt dingy and dark. It had needed to be repainted for years and since I had never been allowed to be creative before in my own home, I went all out. 

We worked together and painted each room was a different color. The girls helped me choose the colors. We painted red walls in the kitchen, yellow in the hallway and green in the living room. We painted the bathroom orange. I made curtains for all of the rooms. We found second hand furniture that we could paint and restore. 

It finally felt like a home for the first time in over ten years. They girls were so proud. They wanted their friends over for the first time. Our home was not only a peaceful and happy place, but now it was bright and cheerful inside and I loved having it full of the girls and their friends.

The outside was a different story. The 50 year old siding was falling off in pieces. Some of the old original windows had still not been replaced and the ones that had been were not framed in properly. Some of the rooms were without electricity and I had to drag extension cords around the house. All of these factors definitely increased the cost of utilities in both the winter and summer months. Our neighbors and fellow church members noticed and came to me asking me if they could help as part of their yearly service. I humbly agreed and was very naïve to the depth of the project they had in mind for me and my family.

I never considered having the outside redone because I knew that I just couldn’t afford it. Now, I felt like I would be getting a new house completely. I had no idea the love and healing that would occur within my heart and also, that my Father in Heaven was the motivating influence behind this project. That is until day arrived for the service activity to begin on my home.

Their plan was to rip all of the old siding off, put up the foam board, and then snap into place all of the plastic siding. Some new windows were to be installed and electrical lines repaired. They would install trim and gutters after that. Even now, years later and while writing about it, I can't stop myself from crying and feeling so humble and blessed. 



It is difficult sometimes being on the receiving end of service but I guess I had gotten to the point in my life where I absolutely knew I couldn't do it on my own anymore. I had completely surrendered and accepted and prayed constantly for God's hand in my life. I was so grateful for anyone who reached out their hand and offered help and support.

I hadn't prayed for my home to be repaired but I had prayed for Him to give me strength to help me continue supporting my girls. I prayed asking Him to blessed my daughters and protect them from the effects of the poor choices made by others around them. I wanted them to feel His love and to be strengthened by it. I needed my Savior more than I ever had in my life. And then he answered my prayers just as he always did, so unexpectedly and so powerfully.

I felt His love with every pounding nail and smile and hug. My heart was over flowing with gratitude and warmth and since I couldn't stop crying, I wept and walked around inside my house cleaning and organizing, while so many hands helped cover the outside of my home with insulated foam board, new bright siding. Gutters were installed on the eaves and trim placed where it was needed. I never felt judged or pitied, only loved and blessed and cared for more deeply than I ever had. I felt warmth, protection, and the healing love of God. 

I wanted to repay these earth angels; my neighbors and friends who had spent so much of their own time and resources to help me. I wanted to do something to show my gratitude while they worked so hard outside. So, I decided I would feed them. I looked in the fridge and freezer and I had nothing to offer but hot dogs. I got to work heating them up for the volunteers. I knew my words could never match what my heart was feeling and so I could only pray that they would all know how grateful I was when they heard my simple thank you and saw that large pot of steaming hot dogs. It was meager compensation for their generosity.




In the end, my little house was more beautiful than I could have imagined. That wasn't all that was beautifully repaired that day. My heart was soothed and comforted. I was strengthened to continue pressing forward in order to fulfill all of my motherly duties and teaching responsibilities, despite the stress of all that was happening in the court systems. 



More importantly, my daughters saw the Hand of God in their lives. They felt His love and they knew that He was watching over and providing for them. The hands that my Father in Heaven used to bless our family that day were the hands of  His other earthly children. And I think that is the most beautiful part of the story, we are and can be angels for each other. We can be God's hands and we can love and serve each other just as He would if He were here on earth. 

Seeing someone you love and care for be victimized again and again by the person that should be loving them the most, can be so very frustrating and confusing. I have been that victim and I have had family, friends, and loved ones feel those feelings of frustration and helplessness.

As I look back and think about what their support meant to me and how they helped me. I realize more and more that I could not have survived those difficult times without their help. Leaving safely would have been impossible and healing would have been so much harder without them in my life.

Don't give up on them! My friends and family didn't give up on me and now my life is free of violence and full of more happiness and peace than I could have ever imagined. My children are also thriving!

Validate her and help her clearly see the situation. Keep telling her that you are worried about her and her safety. She needs to be validated over and over again. She has the same worries of safety too, but is constantly told by the abuser that she is stupid and crazy and this causes her to continually doubt herself. My friend once told me that what made her worry the most about me, was how I doubted my own thinking. She needed to remind me that I was a smart woman with a degree and a profession. When I heard her say those words, it helped me see more clearly when he was manipulative and dishonest.  Her words were powerful and gave me strength when I needed it. I repeated them often to myself when I felt doubt creep in and this strengthened my ability to discern correctly.

When you speak the truth of the situation to her clearly and often, it helps her to see and reason with clarity. It shatters the denial that she has been living with constantly. No one wants to believe that a spouse or loved one could potentially injure or kill them. So, speak the truth often but never through text or email. Remember that she has no privacy and the abuser is continually censoring her life.

Remember, she is constantly being told at home what to do and needs to learn to think for herself. Instead, give her information. Help her memorize the 24 hour DV help hotline to the nearest shelter or help her find a place to hide this information safely.  My sister gave me a card with the number on it and I hid it in the lining of my purse for a year before I gained the courage and opportunity to use it.

During the years I lived with Domestic Violence, I was so fearful that I couldn’t speak but I wanted my friend to know how bad it had gotten at home. So one day before meeting her for the afternoon, I wore short sleeves on purpose. For the first time, I had stopped covering up the bruises. This was a huge step for me. I was tired of living a lie. She saw my arms and confronted me by asking me if he had done that to me. I shook my head "yes" in response. I felt so relieved to have finally shared my secret without having to open my mouth. She was livid and I needed her to tell me how wrong it was. Then she took pictures. I needed those pictures a year later and during the criminal trial. I was grateful that she helped me document the abuse.

Leaving safely is one of the most difficult things to do especially when you are living to survive and may not be thinking clearly. Along with giving her the number and address to local shelters and resources available, help her make a plan to escape so that when she feels ready she will also feel empowered.  She should have a bag of essential personal clothes and items: medication, personal documents, cash, and etc., for her and the children. It should be hidden somewhere far from the eyes of the abuser. Leaving quietly and unannounced is essentially for the safety of all involved. A victim of domestic violence is most at risk for death during the first days and weeks after leaving the abuser. Never, ever go back to the house for anything! Even if you are with her to help.

Recently in Salt Lake City, two women were shot by an abuser. One of the victims was the wife of the shooter. The other was the victim’s friend. She had come along to help her (the man’s wife) gather some personal items from the home. The woman who had previously left the abuser needed some personal items from the home, so she returned. They were educated, smart, and strong women. They didn’t realize how extremely violent and dangerous and desperate the abuser could be, since their own thinking was so different than that of the perpetrator. That mistake cost them dearly.

It is essential that the victim leave quietly and quickly to an unknown location. She has to be committed to this choice and so that is why it needs to be her choice. She should eventually discard her own phone. This will help her to continue to be strong by cutting off all contact with her abuser. Her thinking will continue to remain clear when she is free from his lies, threats, and manipulations. 

The friend who helped me to the shelter also helped me with this. She bought me an inexpensive prepaid cell phone. I had a new phone number and could communicate with her and my parents. I was able to assure them of my safety.  I didn’t disclose my location to anyone or my phone number.

After the victim leaves, the abuser will contact everyone that he thinks she may have had contact with and “wear” them down with questions and tears to find out her location. It is best that no one knows where she is and that is why the shelter is so essential for safety. Once she is safe with her children, she needs to immediately file a protective order. She can do this online and without an attorney. It’s easy and accessible with a computer. The shelter has one available for their residents.

Once the victim leaves the abusive relationship, she will need to brace herself for a battle. She will need to fight to regain her self-respect and heal. Encourage her to participate in the aftercare programs available through the Women’s Shelter and to receive counseling or therapy from a professional. Encourage her to return to the workforce or return to school and obtain a degree, if needed. There are many resources available for single women who still need to receive an under-graduate degree. Education and knowledge is essential in ending domestic violence. Just give her the information and then let her find her own pathway to healing.

The abuser will try to control and manipulate the victim and will use the court system as his forum to do so. Oftentimes, he will represent himself which can create a circus of the court system and could drain her financially and emotionally. If possible, go to the court hearings and sit near her. Act as a buffer. There is a victim’s advocate available through every police department that will also give this kind of support to victims of violence. Encourage her to ask for this support. The abuser will glare and try to intimidate her with his presence in court. I was so grateful for my friends who would stand on either side and escort me in and out of the building and away from him. Eventually, he will lose interest and move onto his next victim. She just needs to stand firm and tall and hold out until the end. This is an act of endurance and she will need you to just be a listening ear many times to give her the strength that she will need.

Life is full of change. Change can be good and it can be hard, but inevitably it will happen. There are subtle life changes that happen over time such as aging or the process of learning a new talent. Then there is a ‘BAM’ change. A change so powerful that it could have only been initiated by a catalyst – an external influence great enough to induce a life-changing moment.

My life changing BAM catalyst was a head injury. Maybe that is why I describe it as a sound because that is what I heard when my head hit metal. Actually, it was a loud thud which vibrate through my head. I will never forget what it felt like to hear that noise from the inside of my skull.

It was April, 2004 and I was so excited to have found a pair of real snake-skin boots at the local thrift store, along with a pair of boots for each of my daughters, 8 years and 11 years. They had just started riding lessons at a nearby arena and needed them for the next day. I had bought all three pairs of boots for less than $30. I had experienced shopping success! I remember seeing my mother and baby daughter smiling at me from the waiting car. It was a rare and carefree, happy moment.

I decided to stop at a tree lot where my previous husband was boarding some horses he’d recently purchased. The horses were young and not ready for riding but the girls wanted to see them and help feed them.

We didn’t expect to ride that night. However, the man who owned the lot had just purchased an old rodeo horse for his grandchildren to ride. My oldest daughter rode the horse first. She was just sitting on the horse as it walked around the circular corral with the owner holding reins and leading them both. It all seemed so safe to me. When I approached the corral, the man asked if I would like to get on and go around a few times. I resisted at first and then the girls started encouraging me to try.

“Come on, mom! You can do it!” I did have my new second hand snakeskin boots in the car I thought and life had been so extremely stressful lately that the thought of doing something spontaneous and fun sounded so inviting. Next thing I know the reins were in my hand and I was on the horse as it walked around the corral. It felt like a simple kid's ride at the county fair. I never would have imagined the drama that would unfold in the next thirty minutes and how altered my life would be after my decision to get on that horse.

I had parked my car near the corral and positioned it so that my mother could care for the baby and still watch us all from inside the vehicle.  I remember waving and smiling to her and the baby. My 8 year old daughter was anxious for a turn on the horse. She was watching from the outside of the fence and had climbed half-way up. She was smiling and shouting, “Can I get on? Can I have a turn?”

The owner of the horse helped her climb over the fence and lifted her onto the horse behind me, not on the saddle but on the rump. It didn't feel right to me. The few times that I had rode double, the extra person always sat in front of the person with the reins and behind the saddle horn. The man assured me that we would be fine and his grandchildren had been riding like that all day. I will always regret not listening to my intuition and inspiration as a mother and asserting myself. I gave in and we began riding around the circular corral.

Within 10 seconds the horse began bucking, kicking his legs up high into the air. I instinctively dropped the reins and reached one arm behind me and around my daughter trying to keep her on and away from the horse's stomping feet. I remember screaming for help and looking at the man directly in the eyes as he backed away from me. The horse bucked one or two times more before both she and I went off the front end. The top of my right forehead hit hard, and blunt on the metal corral bar on my way down. I landed partially on my daughter and was surprised at how quickly I jumped up and off her. I was so worried she was injured. The moment my feet hit the earth and I reached up to feel my head, my knees buckled and I was back down in the dirt again. Staring up at the dark sky and holding the large, grape-fruit sized hematoma that had already formed on my forehead, I knew then that I was in trouble.

My young daughters were hysterical and I was incredibly scared as I could feel my head swelling quickly under my hand.  I remember asking them to pray with me. Someone was calling 911. We said a prayer then and again in the ambulance ride. I said a lot of prayers that night as I fought to stay conscious. I was so afraid that if I passed out, I wouldn't wake up again. I prayed for to God that he would keep me alive to raise my babies.




The swelling continued and was pushing down on my right eye and eyelid making it difficult to keep my eyes open. The pain on the back of my head (opposite of where I hit it) was so intense and sharp I though for sure I had cut my scalp open. There was no laceration. Later the doctors would tell me the pain I felt was from my brain hitting the back of my skull.

I remember holding hands with my daughter in the ambulance. I couldn't see her because we were both strapped to boards staring up. She was no longer crying. I was actually afraid she was going in shock because she was so quiet. I was assuring her that it would be OK and the paramedics had assessed that she didn't have any obvious injuries but would need to do some x-rays and further evaluation of her leg and hip to be sure that nothing was broken. I had peace knowing she would be fine. However, something told me that my life would be different and I was fearful to find out how.

My head injury was the catalyst that helped me to see how important it was for me to change my life. Up until the point of the horse accident, I realized that my children had mostly seen me sad or scared. When I did seem happy, it was forced and fake for the children. So, when I was lying on my back and staring at the dark sky on that spring night in horse corral. I thought to myself, if I die now my children will have never known me to be truly happy. That thought caused me to feel a deep sadness for my children. I wanted a chance to make that not be true and that is when I started to change my life.