Did I say to run out and divorce them? No.

Just, don't cheat on God to fall with your mate.

"No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate one, and love other; or else he will hold to one, and despise other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon," Lu. 16:13.

Adam's sin was that he chose his mate above God. And God named both male and female 'Adam', Ge. 5:2.

Only God knows how to defeat Satan every time. Therefore, if Spirit does not guide a couple toward agreement, God is not likely in it. A warm assurance and comfort of unity comes when both agree on His leading. Only then can three walk together.

"Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in midst of them," Mt. 18:19-20.

When we seek God's guidance together, we obtain divine protection.

Another way of looking at it is this.

Father (head) / / / Son Holy Spirit

Jesus (head) / / /

Husband Wife

"I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me."

Jn. 17:23

Only when we become one with God can we become one with each other; one in heart, soul, purpose, body, mind, and strength.

© by Joyce C. Lock http://our.homewithgod.com/heavenlyinspirations/ This writing may be used in its entirety, with credits in tact, for non-profit ministering purposes.

This cannot be happening again. I know what a “tiny spot” means. A one-centimeter “spot” detected by my mammogram a year ago initiated this entire nightmare.

“What’s matter mom?” Amber asks.

“I’m very tired today,” I reply. She doesn’t ask any more questions. She saw first hand how being tired made me cry during chemotherapy treatment.

I show up for CT scan following Thursday. I tell nurse I have a port to draw blood from.

"I’m sorry, honey, we can’t use a port for this type of blood test.”

When nurse inserts IV, I stare at exit sign and imagine ripping needle out and walking to my car. It’s my body.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yes,” I say, but I keep my eyes on exit.

The next day my husband, Randy, wakes up with a fever. Stomach virus. I decide to take Makenna to neighborhood pool. I put on my swimsuit and tape a bandage over my port. I leave my cell phone in house. When doctor called me with bad news a year ago, Randy wasn’t with me. I won’t let that happen again.

We’re at pool about two hours when I see my husband parking his car outside gate. My heart sinks. There is only one reason he would drag himself out of bed to meet me at pool.

“You forgot your phone,” he says. “And your oncologist called.”

Then he hands me a piece of paper.

“I can’t read it,” I say. My eyes are filled with tears.

“No, honey,” he says. “It’s good news.”

I blink and read diagnosis: “Hemangioma. Group of blood vessels. Totally benign. Born with it.”

“I asked him to repeat information twice,” he said. “I knew you’d want to know exactly what he said.”

Totally benign. I can breathe. We go home and I tape note in my journal.

A “tiny spot” will always be a major deal for me, and that’s okay. I’ll continue to live fully and proactively. I’ll confide my fears in my journal when my family can’t understand them. And I’ll keep right on being a survivor.