Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

Why The Y?

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Why “Y?”

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Why “Y?”

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Check the Hebrew alphabet. He is Hebrew, after all.

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(IF You Know? Book Excerpt)

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…Any “J-Name” was really a “Y-Name.”

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So, most of the time, Our Savior was probably referred to as that “Y-Name.”

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But here’s where there’s some darkly lit question marks.

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“Your Name is near”

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Psalm 75:1

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Most of His Name references spelled it as “Yeshua.”

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It tracks, as far as “the letter Y” being incorporated, not the un-invented-until-centuries’-later- “J.”

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Again: there is NO “J” located within the Hebrew alphabet…

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“…by His Name YAH and rejoice before Him.”

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Psalm 68:4

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Our Savior is the Son of Our Father. Our Father’s Name is YAH.

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Not “Yesh,” as in “Yeshua.”

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YAH.

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Name Math: YAH Plus Shua

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“YAH” Is Our Divine Father’s Name.

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“Shua,” in Hebrew, means “to cry out (for rescue).”

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Another definition? “Salvation.”

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So, “YAH- is- Rescue.” “YAH- is- Salvation.”

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YAH-Shua…

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If You Know?: Cruse, Sheryle: 9798272042019: Amazon.com: Books

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

The Clown Car (Cancerventures)

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“The Clown Car”

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Cancer treatment is overwhelming. I call it “the Clown Car,” not to disparage the medical community, but to highlight just how many people we run into, as we go through the testing, the procedures, the surgeries, and the treatments we undergo.

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It’s overwhelming.

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But we are not alone. The Most High is with us.

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“When you go through deep waters, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown. When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you.”
Isaiah 43:2

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“…The clown car players you may encounter…

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 Every person’s situation is unique, but here’s a basic list of people you may run into, diagnosis on. 

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General Physician

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Imaging, ultrasound, and biopsy crew (including technicians and breast nurse navigators)

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Surgeon(s)- depending on how extensive your surgery situation may be

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Oncology (Since I don’t know the chemo drill here, I’d probably guess it’s an environment of nurses, persons in charge of scheduling, and more specialized chemo people).

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Radiology

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Gynecological Oncology

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Physical Therapy (Including treatment of Lymphedema)

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Dietician

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Clinical Trials Specialist (s)

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And you may also encounter… 

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A seemingly, never ending, slew of receptionists, nurses, and personal assistants, depending upon your diagnosis and treatment plan

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Social Worker

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Clinic Chaplain… 

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(“Cancerventures: Tales of a  Diagnosed Woman” Book Excerpt)

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Amazon.com: Cancerventures: Tales of a Diagnosed Woman eBook : Cruse, Sheryle: Kindle Store

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

Setting The Solitary

‍ ‍Hello, Gentlemen.

It’s me, again, Sheryle.

Yes, I am talking to you, “as a room full of men.”

But I am, more specifically, talking to you, “one-on-one.”

Because I know “lonely.”

“Isolated.”

“Away from the herd.”

Yes, congratulations. You are officially interacting with a lonely chick with issues.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, maybe, With The Most High’s help (OH ABBA, Puh-Lease, help me), maybe, it could be a case of “what could go right?”

Let’s see what happens.

I am an “only child.”

I grew up with no one to communicate with most of the time. My checked out, disordered, and abusive parents, mostly left me to fend for myself. Entertain myself. They shoved toys in my direction, toys that I was supposed to play with neatly and silently, and not “bother” them.

When you are told that you are “a bother,” and that you are not supposed to be a bother, the result of that can be loneliness: a forced sentence.

THE SHU.

Before I go any further, let me ask you, is it okay if I bother you? Am I bothering you?

I hope not.

I don’t know how lonely you are right now, you, the individual, apart from the group.

Just amongst The Most High, you, and me, are you lonely?

You don’t need to answer me. He knows the answer. And maybe you do, too.

Were you wanted?

I’m not talking about the “wanted poster” kind of wanted. Maybe you had a wanted poster with your face and your physical description on it. Maybe someone was trying to bring you into custody.

I am talking about the “good” kind of wanted. The kind of wanted that expresses real love, validation, care, esteem, and safety.

“I have loved you with an everlasting love.”

Jeremiah 31:3

My guess?

Probably not.

Really, not too many of us don’t get that.

And we deserve that. We need that.

You deserve and need that.

Are you in The SHU? Solitary confinement?

A place “cut off” from everything? Everyone? A place cut off from hope and understanding?

Were you placed there?

And now, because of too many messages from too many people and voices, do you place yourself there?

“It is not good that man should be alone...”

Genesis 2:18

Beyond a smoking hot, “Brickhouse” of an Eve, showing up for her Adam, like the originals of Genesis, this speaks to isolation.

We don’t do so well, with it.

Are you doing well with your isolation/loneliness?

Neither am I.

Maybe, some of that loneliness- that isolation- contributed to my cancer diagnosis.

I don’t know. He does.

You, reading this letter right now: please know that I am here. Yeah, I’m far away, geographically, but I am close, here, “in the Spirit.”

“For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them.”

Matthew 18:20

He’s a much a much bigger and better Presence than me, doing this typing.

But, for sheer, “hot mess of a human being,” here I am for you.

Lonely one to lonely one.

He is setting you, Fellow Lonely One, within these words you are reading, as within a family.

I don’t know what your family situation is/was like.

None whatsoever?

Disowned?

Abusive?

No Contact?

Hurtful if/when they DO see you?

But I’m here. Your Sister? Want one?

I will be surrogate family, The Most High Willing.

I’m not doing it from a “Holier Than Thou” place.

I’m waaaay far away from that Holy kind of designation.

I’m heartbeat close, however, to lonely.

My life, so often trained me too well for that.

Abuse and neglect trained me.

Betrayal of so many trust situations going South trained me.

Feeling forsaken all the time trained me.

“I will never leave you or forsake you.”

(See Deuteronomy 31:6; Deuteronomy 31:8; Joshua 1:5)

Maybe you got similar training, huh?

Yep. Solitary.

“It just sucks,” thus sayeth Sheryle.

He’s there with you right now. I hope you can feel Him.

Sometimes, yeah, it’s more difficult to “feel” that He is real.

But He loves you.

He loves me.

Some evidence of that?

Well, you are reading my hot mess words about being lonely, aren’t you now?

“He sets the solitary in families.”

“The Most High places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy…”

Psalm 68:6

“Ma Familia.”

Maybe you think that this is just a dumb letter. If you are still reading, thanks.

If you lost interest, well, I still am talking to you, nevertheless.

I have a big yapper.

No matter what, I love you.

You have infiltrated my heart, I guess, because He loves you so much. And, pssst, you are loveable.

“The Big He.”

So, “This lonely version of me” is writing to you, the individual.

You are an individual, uniquely designed.

You are set apart from the crowd, even if you only feel less- than and lost in the group, and even more isolated, misunderstood, and afraid.

Tell Him. Talk to Him, like I’m trying to talk to you now.

You don’t need “Thee’s And Thou’s.”

Just be real.

“Hey, I’m lonely. Please help me. Please help me know You better. Please help me. Amen.”

That’s a prayer. Just real talk.

He’ll set ya up in a great way.

He set this thing up, with the likes of me. Talking to you helps me. Please believe that.

I won’t judge. I had plenty of mullet perms as a teenager. I am in no place to judge.

But seriously, you went through a lot in your life.

And I love you.

This girl, from, who knows where, who doesn’t know fully your life story, loves you.

But more than that, how much better is it that He, Who does know your life story, loves you with a love that wants you to never feel alone?

Because He is right there with you now.

He won’t leave you.

And, as stubborn as I am, for as long, and as much as He will let me have the honor of communicating with you, I won’t leave you, either.

I can be good at being annoying. It’s a skill.

Anyway, please take care of yourself. You are worth it. You are.

I love you. I am praying for you.

He is too. Right now.

“Who then will condemn us? No one—for Christ Jesus (Yahshua Ha-Mashiach) died for us and was raised to life for us, and he is sitting in the place of honor at The Most High’s right hand, pleading for us.”

Romans 8:34

“Therefore he is able, once and forever, to save those who come to The Most High through him. He lives forever to intercede with The Most High on their behalf.”

Hebrews 7:25

Love ya, Love ya, Love ya, Fellow Lonely One,

Your Sister,

In Him,

Sheryle

Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

“Get On With It?”

“Declaring the end from the beginning, And from ancient times things that are not yet done, Saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, And I will do all My pleasure,’”
Isaiah 46:10

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“Monty Python and The Holy Grail” is a ridiculous and accurate assessment of humanity and its silliness.

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Besides the “special effects” of knocking coconuts together, to create the galloping of horse hooves, as none of the actors used horses, filming their Knights of the Roundtable, throughout the storytelling, there was a running bit. People’s patience was wearing thin…

‍Droning on and on.

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Also known as “needing patience.”

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Groan.

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I’m sorry, I forgot, I am not supposed to do that, am I?

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“Therefore, as The Most High’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.”

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Colossians 3:12

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But groan I do, and come on, you do too, don’t you?

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If they, indeed, say, “patience is a virtue,” then, yes, I feel like an utmost scoundrel.

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Patience.

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“But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.”

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Romans 8:25

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Just the word causes sighs of frustration, doesn’t it?

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“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

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Galatians 6:9

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I cannot tell you how many times I have groaned and, yeah, eye-rolled, at this scripture. It feels so often, to me, like only cold comfort.

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Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t become weary in doing good things.

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Yeah, yeah, yeah, “at the right time” it’ll happen.

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Yeah, yeah, yeah.

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It will happen- our reward-  if we don’t give up.

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We typically don’t start out cynical and jaded about patience, do we?

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Patience, In the Beginning.

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“In the morning, Elohim, You hear my voice;
in the morning I lay my requests before You
and wait expectantly.”

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Psalm 5:3

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In the Beginning?

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Yes, usually, at the beginning of anything, including love, relationships, marriage, a career, a project, as yes, our very faith experiences, we are Gung Ho. We are excited. We are lit up.

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As a writer, I encounter this, most vividly, as I start a new piece of writing.

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Especially during the “brainstorming phase.”

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It is all lit with excitement, possibility, and wonder.

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Full steam ahead.

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Here is often where we believe something will be a “quick work.”

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My first book, “Thin Enough,” really felt like that.

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It started from a spiritual rededication experience in 1995. I felt like, from start to finish, it was going to take about two weeks, tops.

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Eh, you know where this is going right?

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Check the publication date on the inside of the book: 2006.

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“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

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Galatians 6:9

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Patience, in the Middle.

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Yep. It took longer than two weeks. I was not expecting that.

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We usually don’t expect something to take “longer.”

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We like our instant gratification, our instant results.

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Therefore, at the three-an-a-half week mark, I was here:

‍I exaggerate a bit. I admit it. But the concept remained. Especially as the year continued to roll out.

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1995.

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Okay. Well, surely this year, right?

Okaaaay.

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1996. 1997. 1997. 1998. 1999. 2000.

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Oh come on! The Millenium?

‍ 2001. 2002. 2003. 2004.

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Some more well-doing. Some more well-doing, said with sarcasm and sighing.

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2005. 2006.

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Patience, in The End.

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And then… “Ta-dah!”

Only, it felt like a tired “Ta-dah,” as wonderful as its publication realization was.

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For we know, in our human hearts…

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“A longing fulfilled is sweet to the soul…”

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Proverbs 13:19

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Longing. Fulfillment. Needs met to our souls: our mind, our will, and our emotions.

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He knows all of that, what that looks like.

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And, as much as we long for whatever we focus on, how much more does He!

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“Yet Elohim longs to be gracious to you;
therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.
For Elohim is a YAH of justice.
Blessed are all who wait for Him!”

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Isaiah 30:18

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Again, there’s more patience.

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More waiting.

‍ I know.

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Again, it can feel like cold comfort.

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Waiting/patience can feel excruciating.

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How Much More?

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Again, here’s a thought to consider, again, that of “How Much More?”

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If it is excruciating for us, “how much more” is it for Him?

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“Rend your heart
and not your garments.
Return to Elohim your YAH,
for He is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
and He relents from sending calamity.”

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Joel 2:13

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He loves us beyond our human comprehension. The best evidence of that?

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Our Savior.

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“How Much More?”

Indeed. He DID get on with it. Yahshua.

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“But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Yahshua Ha-Mashiach might display His immense patience as an example for those who would believe in Him and receive eternal life.”

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1 Timothy 1:16

Let’s circle back toIsaiah 46:10…

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“Declaring the end from the beginning, And from ancient times things that are not yet done, Saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, And I will do all My pleasure.’”

Time. Timing.

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It’s determined.

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Patience is in the center of it.

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You and I are, indeed, “getting on with it.”

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It’s a pep talk for me, as much as it is for you.

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Let’s pray.

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ABBA-

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We come to You, in Ther Name of Our Savior, Your Son, Yahshua.

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We need help with this patience thing.

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We are tired of waiting.

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We want results now.

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We know that You know that about us.

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Forgive us.

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You know our hearts: anxious, impatient, immature, selfish, and yeah, sometimes, even wicked.

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You know us, heart motives and all.

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You know how we struggle with being patient.

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Help us with all this waiting.

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Help us to stay focused on You.

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It sounds lofty. But You know that we need this help, even if we don’t mean it from our hearts when we say it.

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Help us anyway.

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We want to “get on with it.”

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Help us, encourage us, soothe us, teach us, as You do just that.

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Thank You.

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We wait and receive Your Help now.

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In Yahshua’s Name we pray.

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Amen.

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Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

Take Good Care (Cancerventures)

Take Good Care (Cancerventures Book Excerpt)

…I bargained and prayed… 

Again, no, not now. I’ve lost enough already. Don’t take her too. 

Devastation.

How do I say goodbye? How?  

 It’s Not Just the Diagnosed Who Could Be Dying:  

It’s cruel. Just because we get a cancer diagnosis, does not mean we are exempt from anyone else getting sick and dying. It’s especially painful if we have a beloved pet who has gotten us through the hard stuff of surgery, chemo, radiation. We should not have to face losing our treasured animals when we’ve already had to lose so much already. 

But, as we all know, life is not fair. And, unfortunately, the medical care of our animals is expensive. We cannot just throw unlimited amounts of money at attempts to keep our pets alive, even as we desperately declare that we’d do anything to save them. Reality has its limits.  

Please don’t blame yourself for “not being able to do enough.” This goes beyond your will; it speaks to capacity. And sometimes, we just don’t have it.  

MN Pets:  

So, with no signs of improvement, I called a local in-home euthanasia service, MN Pets. As I started the phone conversation, I broke down mid-sentence as I requested information. A comforting voice from Margie*, uttered things like, “I’m sorry;” “this is so difficult;” and “it sounds like you’re doing everything you can.”  

Through sobs, I asked for definite signs to know “when it’s time.” And Margie informed me of the Journey Assessment, authored by Dr. Katie Hilst, DVM.  

https://journeyspet.com

Used with permission.  

This assessment rates mobility, pain, respiration, hygiene, eating and drinking and the social ability issues of your pet.

I also asked about any benevolence funds, disclosing my cancer diagnosis.  

Margie informed me of their Buddy Fund. She’d speak to her supervisor, explaining my situation. I could expect a callback.  

Ten minutes later, the phone rang. We did qualify. MN Pets would cover most of the expense- for both the in-home euthanasia and her ashes. We’d just need to pay seventy-five dollars. 

Since euthanasia alone can go well into the hundreds of dollars, this was a much-needed help.  

I didn’t arrange things then and there. I needed to check out the Journey assessment. 

We were still waiting- and hoping- Gracie would get better. I told Margie we’d be in touch.  And, as we ended the call, she uttered, “Take good care.”

Saying Goodbye:

In-home euthanasia is a growing business. Its focus is on the more personal atmosphere of one’s own home as compared to the jarring veterinary clinic.  

We’ve had to say goodbye to our pets in the clinic setting before. Everyone was compassionate and professional, but it still didn’t eradicate the trauma of the car ride to the vet, the unfamiliar surroundings, and the sounds and smells of other animals. 

Mention your full cancer situation to others, including your vet clinic or an organization like MN Pets. Drop the “C- word;” drop it! Had I not done so, asking about the Buddy Fund, we’d never qualify for it. There are resources available to the diagnosed. Even concerning pet euthanasia. 

You need special help and care in your cancer situation. Don’t be ashamed or afraid to 

ask for it…  

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

Pass Away

“Pass Away”

I thought she was sleeping peacefully. She seemed calm. Then, writhing, contorting violently. Wild, panicky eyes, fully dilated. Seizing.

And then nothing.

She was gone.

Hello, Gentlemen.

It’s me. Sheryle.

I want to talk to you a little bit about regret, death, and eyes.

I am grieving now.

And it’s maybe even, to some of you, a silly kind of grief.

I recently lost my sixteen-year-old cat, Glory.

Yes, I am a “cat lady.”

I’m not one of those animal hoarders, with overflowing litter boxes in every room, and the stench to match it.

I had one cat, the surviving sibling of my sweet, late “radiation buddy,” Gracie.

Gracie passed away, almost eight years ago, after I completed my cancer treatment.

“Passed away.”

Glory was my last connection, not just to Gracie, or to even cancer.

She was also my last connection to my mother, who died in late 2024.

Glory’s arrival as an adopted kitten happened shortly before my mother had a debilitating stroke that placed her in a care facility. I attempted to be her adult daughter caregiver for the next ten years.

I felt that I failed.

Regret.

There were so many things wrong between us: abuse, financial stress, and the 2017 breast cancer diagnosis that altered the decisions I made concerning her.

I needed to leave her. Life or death decision, as my health was in danger.

My health may still be in danger. (More on that later).

Glory died at home. And her last few moments were violent and painful to watch.

Eyes.

Her eyes were fully dilated, black circles of lifelessness.

My eyes were just containers of tears. Memories. Things that I cannot un-see and un-know.

Pain. Death. Regret. Trauma.

I know that you Gentlemen are well-acquainted with all these issues.

I do not wish to trivialize any of what you have gone through by mentioning my cat.

Glory, however, caused things to rupture as the newer traumas of her painful passing, stacked on top of previous traumas of too much sorrow, abuse, regret, fear, and death.

How many of you are touched by those things?

How many of you have “seen too much?”

Eyes.

How many of you “know too much?”

Regret.

How many of you have “lost too much?”

Death.

All three may even be intertwined, the reason you are “in here.”

Maybe your eyes saw something or someone that got out of control, all too quickly. Maybe you saw someone die in front of you. Maybe you caused their death. Maybe the last thing they locked eyes on before they “passed” was you.

Was it a look of horror?

Hatred?

Fear?

Sorrow?

Was it even a look of love or pity?

What did you see that you cannot un-see now? What is that haunting image, at night, when you try to sleep?

Do you wish that you could stop seeing?

Do you wish that you could stop existing?

I have recently had numerous thoughts like these, yes, even the “death thoughts.”

Because of what I saw… and because of what I did not see.

For, as much as I had to helplessly watch Glory die, with her pain-stricken, eyes, desperate for my relief, looking at me, I did not see how my mother died.

And maybe, this is where you and I may be a bit alike?

I “left” Mom six years ago, choosing to focus on my cancer survivorship instead of trying to care for her abusive nature. I love her. I still love her.

It was “no-win.”

You recognize “no-win,” don’t you?

“Do or die?”

A moment that you need to make a choice. And it’s not a great choice. But you need to make it.

And you hope you don’t “Regret it.”

Many of you are here listening to me now, talking about my dead cat and my assorted pain because you made a choice.

I was not there when my mother died. I do not know how she died. I found out she died “after the fact.”

There are probably some of you out there who were “in here” when someone you knew, loved, or, yes, even hated… died.

Maybe you tried to reach them. Maybe you desperately tried to attend their funeral. Say “goodbye,” “I love you,” “I’m sorry.”

Maybe you could not get to them.

And now.

You see.

Eyes.

Maybe you have a teardrop tattoo on your face.

Maybe you simply have their face in front of you that never goes away.

Death.

You probably have regrets.

“Pass away.”

What has now “passed away” for you?

Hope? Life? Love? Future? Another chance? Purpose?

If all these things look to be “passing away,” dead, or, at the very least, dying a painful death, please know that you are not alone in those thoughts.

I’m there with you. Me. The “cat lady,” crying about her dead cat.

But it’s more than that.

I’m crying… about my life.

Can you relate? Can you humor me, and give me grace for that?

Would you, please, give me grace for that?

Believe it or not, I am in pain.

I don’t want to annoy or insult you with my pain. I know that you have your own.

Let’s mourn…together?

“He comforts all who mourn.”

Matthew 5:4

And let’s remind each other that He is here.

NOW.

No matter what passes away.

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but My words will by no means pass away.

Matthew 24:35

It’s hard to feel that when grief, death, and loss are too real and fresh. It seems that is ALL there is to our lives. Just that.

That is all we see.

Eyes.

But it is not.

“And He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

I have been crying every single day lately.

So much regret. So much to have tears about.

I may not “feel” it right now, but I “know” that He has the final say when it comes to our eyes, what we see.

We see so much death, pain, and loss about ourselves, don’t we? We don’t see ourselves the way that He does.

“Since you were precious in my sight… I have loved you…”

Isaiah 43:4

 

I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…”

Psalm 139:14

 

“I have chosen you and have not cast you away.”

Isaiah 41:9

Our Savior, Our Messiah, was famous for repeatedly saying, “It is written.”

Not “It is visible.”

That’s the “faith stuff” that boggles our minds:

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
Hebrews 11:1

Eyes.

Even despite Regret… and Death.

And that leads me to now. You may or may not know anything about my cancer backstory. I am still alive, yes, I am.

He has been keeping me alive… for some reason. Part of it, I think, is you.

I may be dealing with recurrence. I’m trying to deal with “symptoms.”

I am sad and distressed more times than is flattering or inspiring to hear.

I wonder, if soon, I will “pass away.” My times are in His Hands.

He knows my life. And why it was what it was.

And He knows your life and your purpose too.

You are not pointless. There is a wonderful reason for you. He created you and has kept you alive intentionally.

No mistake, fluke, or accident.

You are supposed to be here, yes, listening to my long letter about my dead cat, my cancer situation, my mother, my pain, and my regrets.

My apologies, if I have bored you or annoyed you.

I love you. I have no idea if you believe that or not, or if you think it’s all a crock.

But I love you.

And talking to you, in this way, believe it or not, helps me to heal. Thank you for that. It means a lot to me.

You are an instrument of His healing. Do you know that?

Do you see that?

Eyes.

I do.

And I know that “It is written.”

“But as it is written: ‘Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, Nor have entered into the heart of man The things which The Most High has prepared for those who love Him.’”

1 Corinthians 2:9

You Gentlemen are such gifts to me.

I did not see, or hear, or know that you would be. Until now.

But you are. Gifts.

The Father gives some wonderful gifts.                                 

Sometimes, they are called, “Gentlemen.”

I love you so much. Be blessed, each one of you.

Please pray for me. I’m praying for you.

Thank you for listening.

Love,

Your Sister,

In Him,

 

Sheryle

Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

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Brown Bag (IF You Know?)

Brown Paper Bag Test/Passing (IF You Know?)

Olive or... High Yellow?

“a black person with a very light complexion”

Raqel conveyed disdain at my mention of the infamous “o-word.”

She didn’t like it because of its green connotation.

She didn’t think that “olive” should ever reflect anyone’s skin, with the exception, perhaps, of Frankenstein’s monster.

But that term sprang from the essential primary color, yellow which made up the secondary color, green.

Yes, yes, yes. This yellow was what everyone was responding to. This yellow in the skin tone produced some form of radiance, some warm glow.

This skin tone was in direct contrast to the fair “cooler” complexions surrounding me in my hometown.

In skin terms, I was warm, they were cool.

So, I started researching this high yellow history.

“High yellow... is a term used to describe persons classified as black... despite having primarily white European ancestry. It is a color reference to the golden skin tone of some mixed-race people... ‘High’ is usually considered a reference to a social class system in which skin color (and associated ancestries) is a major factor, placing those of lighter skin (with more European ancestry) at the top and those of darker skin at the bottom. High yellows, while still considered part of the African-American ethnic group, were thought to gain privileges because of their skin and ancestry. ‘Yellow’ is in reference to the usually very pale yellow undertone to the skin color of members of this group, often due to mixture with Europeans...”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_yellow...

 

“Appearances, she knew now, had a way sometimes of not fitting facts...”

“Passing” by Nella Larsen

I read Nella Larsen’s novel and, again, was struck by the possible implications those fictitious characters could have pertaining to my very real family history.

“‘You’d be surprised...how much easier that it is with white people than with us. Maybe because there are so many more of them, or maybe because they are secure and so don’t have to bother...’”


Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

 

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“Perfect” (Thin Enough Book Excerpt)

“Perfect”

“Yahweh will fulfill that which concerns me; your loving kindness, Yahweh, endures forever. Don't forsake the works of your own hands...”

Psalm 138:8

(Thin Enough Book Excerpt)

… He wasn’t close, involved, happy with me, or proud. I believed that it was entirely my fault because I was an ugly, bad, fat little girl. I needed to be ignored, fixed, and punished. I didn’t know that my Heavenly Father felt differently about me. By age ten, I knew only self-imposed hatred, blame, and shame, not my Abba Father’s love.

I desperately wanted my dad to notice me. I learned very quickly that one surefire way to do that was by winning awards. When I won something, I wasn’t completely worthless or useless. I was productive; I was “earning my keep.” I set impossible standards for myself. Try as I might with award after award, I’d eventually disappoint everyone, including myself, proving that I wasn’t worth anything after all.

My perfect attendance record in school is an excellent example. For three years in a row, I did not missed one day of school, knowing that I would win a perfect attendance certificate, tangible proof on paper that I was worthwhile. It became a standard I had to maintain because my dad seemed pleased in my performance. Of course, he never said that he was proud of me, but he did lay off the criticisms briefly. So for the next few years, I went to school with colds, sore throats and influenza. I remember going to school once with a temperature of over 101, sitting at my desk, on the verge of throwing up, yet only thinking of that certificate.

When I reached junior high, I became so sick once I had to stay home. I felt defeated and anxious. My dad, who had never really been sick with so much as a cold, was unsympathetic to my condition. With each passing day I stayed home from school, the tension mounted. Three days at home, according to my dad, was enough. He became upset at my mom for being “such a terrible mother.” After three days home, he had enough. He decided he would take me into school to make sure I got there.

On the way to school, he was fuming and I was scared to death, but my fourteen-year-old mind wanted to know something. We’d never had any father/daughter talks about anything, much less about the existence of a loving relationship, but I got up the nerve to ask him, “Do you still love me?” His answer? “If you do this again, I won’t.”

His answer proved it. It was my fault. I had to prove myself in order to be loved. I wasn’t the cute, good little daughter he should have had. If I could just look right and act right, he’d love me. All I have to do, I decided, is be perfect. That’s all…

…I took control. “All right,” I said to myself, “if I can’t have the love, the worthiness, the me that I want, I’ll make it on my own.” Control became the name of the game now. Even though I thought it was the beginning of my promised land, this was when the real danger, the real wilderness began.

 

Question: Do you feel in control of your life when you control your food and weight?

 

The summer after my senior year of high school became my “put up or shut up” summer. As I prepared for college, I had a lot to prove—to myself, to the haunting jeers of classmates, to the boys who had not been asking me out. I had to prove that I was a worthwhile, beautiful girl. During my entire adolescence, I had been the fat girl, the “good friend,” the funny sidekick to the beautiful girls. But that would all change this summer. So I started another diet. At eighteen, I’d had years of failure at diet and exercise programs. But this time I was determined—determined to re-invent myself for my new life at college.

I started looking for role models I could pattern myself after. I chose Audrey Hepburn for her thin, delicate beauty. I chose Madonna to be my fitness and female empowerment guide. She was a beautiful, lean, muscular version of what I’d deemed a woman “having it all” was like. I thought they had perfect lives, and mine would be perfect too if I could be as beautiful as they were. I coveted who these women were. So much for the “no other gods” commandment… I pursued my own idol of perfect, thin beauty and self-obsession…

“Yahweh will fulfill that which concerns me; your loving kindness, Yahweh, endures forever. Don't forsake the works of your own hands...”

Psalm 138:8

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“LOVELY” The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (Thin Enough)

NEDA WEEK 2026

The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week


February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

Day 7

“Lovely.”

Not ugly, disgusting, too much of, or not enough of.

Lovely.

Our forms. Right here. Right now. Beyond weight, appearance, performance.

Tiara: This level of lovely.

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

7 is the number of completion/perfection.

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“IS” The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (Thin Enough)

Day 6

NEDA WEEK 2026


The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

“Is”

Not then, not in the future. Now.

Right now.

He is there for you and I right now.

He sees you are wonderful right now.

 

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“For Your Form” The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week (Thin Enough)

Day 5

NEDA WEEK 2026


The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

“For Your Form” (Measurement?)

Again, He has a lot to say about our forms. He sees/views/loves our forms.

He wants us to let Him do what He does concerning them: healing, restoration, correction, protection, nourishment.

What are you and I doing along those lines today?

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Some Name Math (IF You Know? Book Excerpt)


Back To YAH.

“…by His Name YAH and rejoice before Him.”

Psalm 68:4

“Who do you say that I am?”

“I and My Father are One.”

John 10:30

A case of “one and the same?”

Our Savior is “Our Shepherd” (including Psalm 23:1; John 10:10; John 21:15; Revelation 7:17). Our Father is “Our Shepherd” (including Psalm 23:1; Isaiah 40:11; Ezekiel 34:12).

“…‘Have I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not known me… he that hath seen me hath seen the Father; and how sayest thou then, ‘Show us the Father?’”

John 14:9

Again, Father and Son as Shepherd?

“…‘You have seen Me. You have seen the Father…’”

John 14:9

Our Savior is the Son of Our Father. Our Father’s Name is YAH.

Not “Yesh,” as in “Yeshua.”

YAH.

Name Math: YAH Plus Shua

“YAH” Is Our Divine Father’s Name.

“Shua,” in Hebrew, means “to cry out (for rescue).”

Another definition? “Salvation.”

So, “YAH- is- Rescue.” “YAH- is- Salvation.”

YAH-Shua.

I now intentionally spell THE NAME “wrong.”

Again, it’s not my own brilliant idea to do so.

Raqel was first big on YAH.

Including, “misspelling” the word, Hallelujah “wrong.”

Many texts from her read, Hallelu-YAH. (Praise YAH)!

“…by His Name YAH and rejoice before Him.”

Psalm 68:4



Is your brain going tilt yet?

Things are getting a bit tilt-y. I know.

“But unto you that fear My Name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in His wings; and ye shall go forth and grow up as calves of the stall.”

Malachi 4:2




Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

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“Your Form” (The Scale) The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

Day 4

NEDA WEEK 2026

The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

“Your Form” (The Scale?)

Our bodies have a form. What is it?

Unacceptable? Ugly? Beautiful? Fat? Thin?

He determines and fully knows everything about our form

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Sheryle Cruse Sheryle Cruse

“See” National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

Day 3

NEDA WEEK 2026

The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

“See”

His Sight, not Ours

He sees us perfectly

Stop hiding

Stop avoiding reality, ourselves

Do we look?

If we do, what do we see?

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“Lose- Your- Turn” Locusts


Recently, I was thunderstruck by Wheel of Fortune.

Stay with me here.

As the contestants were spinning the popular game show’s wheel, for big cash and prizes, it unfortunately, landed on a “Lose- a- Turn” slot.

The sound of a deflated Kazoo striking that spot on the wheel, signaled to all, in the studio and to the television audience that, yes, there was an obvious “missed opportunity.”

Life, people, and, in this case, the other contestants, would all get their chances to “go ahead,” while this one person who, “lost- a- turn,” had to wait it out.

They had to watch. They had to think about what would or could not happen for them.

 

How many chances and opportunities do we get in life?

How much grace?

How much mercy?

“It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.”

Lamentations 3:22-23

When, is it, exactly, when we have “gone too far?”

I have a lot of regrets, sins, and mistakes in my life. It’s not about laying them all out, bare for every scavenger to pick apart.

It’s about recognizing that life, so often, makes it “seem” that I have, not only, “lost- a- turn,” but that I have “lost- MY- turn.”

As a farm girl, I grew up with plenty of grasshoppers.

Or, in Old Timey Bible speak, “Locusts.”

Especially during the late summer and the early autumn, these suckers would be Plague Biblical, overrunning the fields, my home’s front and back yard, as well as our gravel driveway. I had so many memories of them slapping against my bare legs as I walked. I knew to wear shoes, not just because of the gravel roads, but because, if I didn’t, I’d be stepping on and squishing many of them. I did not desire to feel their oozing guts in between my toes.

I know. Vivid.

Years later, when I got more into scripture, I was, once again, brought back to grasshoppers.

Locusts.

 

“…I will give you back what you lost to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts, the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts. It was I who sent this great destroying army against you.

You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of Elohim your YAH, Who has dealt wondrously with you. And my people shall never again be put to shame.’”

Joel 2:25-26

And now we return to the Spinning Wheel. “Lose- a- Turn.”

“Lose- a- Turn Locusts,” right?

That’s what regrets, sins, mistakes, and missed opportunities are, aren’t they?

Locusts.

“Lose- a- Turn Locusts.”

The Swarming Locust. (The Overwhelm of life).

The Hopping Locust. (The constant movement of never being able to catch your breath before life sets you on fire again).

The Stripping Locust. (Loss, death, grief in life).

The Cutting Locust. (Having whatever we have ripped away from us, our bodies, our families, our dreams).

Lots of Locusts.

So much so, it’s the Great Army. (The Constant of so much regret. So many things that got consumed in our lives).

“…‘I will give you back what you lost…’”

Joel 2:25

That is the hope and the promise to “Lose- a- turn,” isn’t it?

That is the hope and the promise to any devouring thing in our lives.

Missed opportunity. Death. Loss. Divorce. Scandal. Heartbreak. Bankruptcy. Sin. Stupidity. Neglect.

Just “some” devourers, “some” locusts, but they pack a wallop.

But The Most High still insists…

“…‘I will give you back what you lost…’”

Joel 2:25

Dare to take Him up on that?

Let’s pray.

ABBA-

We come to You, in Ther Name of Our Savior, Your Son, Yahshua.

We need help.

Have we lost what You have for each of us?

You see all our sins, mistakes, poor choices, and heart issues.

Forgive and help us with them.

We feel like so much in our lives is “too late.”

But it’s not, right?

You know our struggles. You know all about the issues and the losses.

And You have told us You restore.

Restore now, then, according to Your Will.

Help us. Help us to stay focused on You.

Thank You that You have not given up on us.

We wait and receive Your Next “Turn” for each of us now.

In Yahshua’s Name we pray.

Amen.

 

Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

 

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What I Didn’t Realize (Thin Enough Book Excerpt)

What I Didn’t Realize (Thin Enough Book Excerpt)

What I didn’t realize at the time was that my eyes and mind were incapable of seeing anything but a distorted image. Each time I looked at myself in the mirror, all I saw was a fat baby picture of me with fat arms, legs and double chin. I’d spent most of my young life being that photograph. I’d do whatever was needed to make sure that it wasn’t the case now.

 

Diary Entry (March 22, 1991)

Got up, sit-ups, weights… worked on the trampoline for 2 hours, 50 minutes—great—did extra sit-ups. Weighed myself—found out I weigh 115 lbs.! Wow!!! I can’t believe it! All of the exercise and dieting is paying off—I want to lose more weight, though. Before history class, I saw Stacy, and she said I looked different—thinner. Yeah!’”

 

“I have chosen you and have not cast you away.”

Isaiah 41:9

 

 

Question: Does eating or not eating help to relieve stress and anxiety for you in your life?

 

Question: Do you take actions to get and keep yourself thin at all costs?

 

Question: Do you feel like you are a failure if you gain weight?

“A sound heart is the life to the body: but envy is rottenness to the bones.”

—Proverbs 14:30

 

My 120 pounds became 115, which then dropped down to 110. I could feel my hip bones, and it was uncomfortable for me to sit in chairs. But I was succeeding. That’s all that mattered. And besides, I wouldn’t go too far. I’d stop when I was satisfied. Yeah, when I was at my “right” weight, then I’d stop. After all, I was in control.    

Soon 110 pounds gave way to 100 pounds. I was great. I was fine. I had to wear two or three layers of clothing all of the time just to keep warm, but it was a small price to pay, right?

Then the comments started to change. Instead of the usual, “You look great,” I started getting more questions like, “Are you okay?” “You’ve lost weight” was now said with a concerned look and worried tone, not a smile. I started getting the question, “Are you eating?” A former high school classmate who had been anorexic became concerned. Within a span of four months, she approached me three times and asked me if I was anorexic. I defensively denied it each time. She terrified and infuriated me. Did any of these people asking these dreaded questions understand that they were trying to wreck everything I’d been striving to accomplish? I made up my mind. They were my enemy. They were trying to stop my success, my victory. But I wouldn’t let them. I intended to keep going.

One hundred pounds dropped to ninety pounds. By this time, I wasn’t feeling so hot at all. I was constantly freezing, now wearing three to four layers of clothing, despite the fact that it was a hot and humid mid July. I was “feeling worse,” but believing that I was “looking better.” At ninety pounds, my skin was crepe paper and just hung off from my bones. It didn’t have enough muscle tone or fat to support any kind of shape. Of course, I saw this as “fat flab.” I started losing hair in patches at my temples. My teeth were thinning, the enamel wasting away. I could count all of my ribs. I still wasn’t thin enough; it wasn’t good enough. I looked at myself and all I saw was the fat girl: disgusting, unworthy, not perfect or lovable. You know what that meant—more exercise (six plus hours a day) and less food (six hundred or less calories a day).

I was determined to reach my perfect weight goal of eighty pounds. At this point, I felt shame. Guilt increased every time someone questioned me. I was ashamed. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, but I still kept going. I had to. Progress—just a few more pounds, then I’ll be done. So I’d continue every morning: six hours of boot camp torture on little or no food or water. I had gotten to the point now where I feared drinking water would make me fat.

Every morning, my heart and pulse would pound and race. I could feel throbbing from veins that were sticking out on the backs of my knees and the crooks of my elbows. Every morning, I would stand up, shaky, dizzy already, only to then have everything go black. And then, I’d wake up, lying on the floor. Passing out was now a regular part of my day.

I was scared now, not only for my health, but scared of the danger of being discovered. What if I did this in front of someone? You see, these daily blackout sessions always happened during my exercise routine at midnight. I started exercising at midnight because I could be alone for my required six-hour exercise punishment. I was afraid of what people—especially my family—would think if I collapsed in front of them.

Mom frequently told me, “When you lie down to sleep, I’m afraid you’ll never wake up.” She’d also pick up library books on anorexia and read me the symptoms, commenting on things like the hair loss, the father issues, the obsession with not eating, etc. It was during this time, desperate to keep control of the situation, I did what I call “mock eating,” where I made it look like I’d eaten more than I did. I’d put some food on a plate, “disturb it” enough. It was all designed to make her believe that I was eating. This thought scared me too.

My parents began threatening me with hospitalization. I only worried that they threatened to take my control away from me.

I was hiding, feeling nothing but fear and shame. I must protect this! I must! At this point, I became obsessed self-protection, self-preservation. Funny, huh? I was basically near death, and yet, I saw self-preservation as keeping this “control.”

 

Question: Do you often feel afraid and ashamed of your eating behavior?

 

Question: Do you hide your behaviors when it comes to food, weight and body issues?

I was feeling more and more uncomfortable now. At eighty pounds, I’d gotten to the point where it was physically uncomfortable—painful for me to even lie down or sit. I had no energy to keep going, but I couldn’t rest. My hipbones, spine, and tailbone stuck out so much, I could feel a stabbing pain whenever I tried get comfortable. I couldn’t get rest. Sleeping became impossible.

 

“My heart pants, my strength fails me: As for the light of my eyes, it also has gone from me… For in you, O Lord, I hope: You will hear, O Lord my God.”

—Psalm 38:10, 15

 

 

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“Me” National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

The National Eating Disorder Awareness Week

February 23rd- March 1st, 2026

www.nationaleatingdisorders.org

“Let Me See Your Form, For Your Form is Lovely.”

         “Let me see your form,
         Let me hear your voice;
         For your voice is sweet,
         And your form is lovely.”

Song of Solomon 2:14

“Me”

“He,” the Big He

Do you and I let Him into our body issues? Why or why not?

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More Than a Plate?

Warner Sallman (“IF You Know?” Book Excerpt…)

The Identity of Our Savior, for me, was introduced through culture and entertainment.

Image.

Warner Sallman.

I think that my first memory of “Jesus” was when I was probably around five years old. To use Christian vernacular, was this when I “accepted the Lord into my heart?”

Well, probably. At least, I accepted the artist, Warner Sallman’s decorative plate version of a painted Jesus into my heart.

“Christ Knocking at the Door.”



I’m sure you’re familiar with the artwork. It is ubiquitous.

Originally created in 1942, it’s still featured on prints and Bibles. (Years ago, I had a special Warner Sallman illustrated Bible, featuring his other paintings within it).

And, of course, the artwork is on decorative plates.

My mother’s own plate was a hazy bedtime memory for me. “Christ Knocking at the Door” hung on one of my walls.

I remember looking at it, as I had a conversation with my mother, about “accepting Jesus into my heart.”

But not just that. She also shared with me the fun facts about “the age of accountability.”

Was she letting me know that I better behave myself, be accountable, already?

Was this a tactic to get me to be a “good girl?”

Or was she sincerely and soberly “leading me to the Lord?”

I was at that significant age of accountability.

From that point on, I associated Warner Sallman’s depiction of Our Messiah, with the daunting prospect of spiritual personal responsibility. It hit me hard, being five. Pressure.

I doubt I understood the detailed mechanics of Salvation, the Work of The Cross, atonement, what Him “dying for our sins” really entailed.

“Just accept Jesus into your heart, Honey.”

“Jesus loves you.”

(And you are old enough to sin, so you need Him, or else).

I accepted and believed in “Jesus” as that innocent, trusting child.

I was still in a spiritually hostile, abusive warzone. There was no Christian atmosphere of church going and Bible reading.

It felt more like, “Here, accept Jesus into your heart. You did that? Good! Now we can move on. Stay out of trouble. Don’t be a problem.”

Not exactly the Gospel Message of one’s dreams.

Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse

 

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