WHAT INSPIRED ME TO WRITE CHILDREN'S BOOKS, DAY 1

The year 2016 was life changing for me. I welcomed my youngest son, Andrew in January. I tell you what: That boy came pointing me to Jesus right from the start! The meaning of the name Andrew is –manly or the mighty one.

Andrew in the Bible, Peter’s brother, always pointed others to Jesus.  And like him, my son arrived pointing his momma to her Savior –Jesus, the Almighty One!

Most believers are very familiar with Apostle Peter, but it was Apostle Andrew who brought his brother Peter to meet Jesus (John 1:40-42). It was Andrew who brought the little boy who had the five loaves of bread and two fish to Jesus (John 6:1-14). It was Andrew and Apostle Philip who brought certain Greeks to Jesus when they came looking for Him (John 12:21-26).

The significance of Andrew in the Bible and God’s use of my dear Andrew to bring me into relationship with Him was something I discovered in hindsight 2 years after his birth as I was studying the Bible. I made the connection when God reminded me of the story I am about to share.

Right after Andrew was born, I developed postpartum depression. Even though I was not clinically diagnosed, looking back, I knew that was what I had. I’m not sure if it was because of my disappointment of not having a girl or I was just tired, but I was at a very low point when I left the hospital that lasted for a few months.

The experience was very stifling, and I lost all motivation to assert myself beyond the minimum required of me. I still had my two older boys who were 3 and 6 to look after. My normal routine was to drop them off at school and return home to be with my newborn. I would just lie on the couch until it was time to pick up the older boys, only getting up to tend to the needs of my baby.

I could not exert myself beyond the minimal amount of energy it took to care for my children. I was going through an unexplainable period of overwhelming sadness. I was dissatisfied with life in general. Clinically this is known as dysphoria though I did not know to call it that at the time.

Even in the midst of going through this terrible experience, I still maintained my daily habit of watching Joyce Meyer on television. Her program was the only television I watched, and God used her to help me survive my heavy weight of emotions.