A Personal Story

I used to be a much different person than I am today. Though my life has had some extraordinary moments, and has included some celebrated people, my prior existence had been lacking something...something extraordinary. My earthly father had occupied my first 12 years with magic, much fun, and mayhem...then...he did a final disappearing act on me. That final curtain took quite a toll, and I felt the house lights would never come on again. Then, in my teen years, I met my first husband, Sam...and had my first daughter, Darlanne. After nine years, that, too, came to an end, and, a few years later, so did Sam's life...when he was brutally murdered at the age of 31. That kind of extraordinary you never get over...nor has my daughter. I fell to my knees in agony at the news...and at the word "homicide"...and in heartbreak for Darlanne. To this day, Sam's murder remains unsolved...but I know there are no unsolved mysteries with God.

My second marriage, to a 6' 10" basketball player, brought my younger daughter, Christine. The next 15 years were good, especially the marriage, our girls, and our lovely home in an exclusive area of Southern California. All was well...until my husband decided to experiment with a new "religion"...from India...a guru thing, which brought many extraordinary things that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I felt I was fighting the Devil himself. It took his mind, brought on drugs, and, ultimately caused him to disappear...which then caused the loss of our home. I was left with 2 daughters, 2 dogs, a pony, 2 cats, the furniture, and...agoraphobia. The most extraordinary part of that time happened about a week before my husband disappeared...when, one night, a huge 200 year old tree in the back yard split in half ...and shook the house (and neighbors') like an earthquake. I did not realize that God spoke through trees...but I now know His voice...and when He speaks...you had better listen. He said, in so many words, "Hang on, children, the next few years will be lessons you will never forget"! We also lost the love and support of much of my family because of financial losses by my husband...and by lies of his actor friend (no name) who started running the whole show...while hiding my husband behind his Beverly Hills answering service. We were "allowed" NO contact with him at all!

After 2 years of terror by this actor...and the threat of my being jailed for violating a court order to protect my youngest daughter, which was finally dismissed, we managed to find some semblance of distance and peace. My ex-husband is alive, now residing in another state, and makes little effort to contact the girls...or the grand-children. I can easily say that, without my girls, I would never have made it...and my heart breaks at what they were put through. By the grace of God, we were finally able to forgive their dad, but, he who had once been a highly respected and wonderful man, has, sadly, become a lost soul. The actor, incidentally, was later stricken with leukemia...and we have prayed for him also...and forgiven.

My precious girls, Darlanne & Christine,
still the apples of my eye.

My girls kept the boys at my door...then the husbands...then came the babies. My beautiful mother, Estelle, was my "rock" on this earth...and gave me some incredible strength and determination to come through it all. She and I were close from the day my dad passed on. We even sang in "The Messiah" oratorio together with the Alhambra Civic Chorus...some of my loveliest memories. And, how she loved her grand-children...and greats! To them, she was "Nana". Talk about extraordinary...that lovely lady looked no more than 60 when she was 85! She was one of those "I'll do it myself...or die" people. We lived near her, thankfully, and at least offered to help...and hid the car keys when she had a hankerin' for shopping at 84! We must have talked on the phone at least 2 hours each day...and I saw her several times a week. Of course, we worried when she'd leave the phone off the hook accidentally, and would run over to make sure she was alright. She lived happily and well in her own home... until a stroke in January of 1998, at the age of 95. We attempted to keep her at home, with professional help, but family intervened, and admitted her to a nursing home...which I had promised her I would never do. I helplessly felt I had betrayed her...as did my daughters. That pain was extraordinary!

My mom lingered in that place, which was nice for what it was...yet the sights, sounds and smells will never leave us. We tried everything to get her out of there, but to no avail. My estranged family fought us tooth and nail. I literally prayed for God to take her. She became a shell before our eyes, and only lit up when she saw us coming. My daughters were both going through their own horrendous turmoil at the time, and I felt my own strength draining along with my mother's. Suddenly, there was too much time for contemplation...and remembering. I didn't speak to God too much then...and wasn't sure if I wanted to. I had never read the Bible through, but I could quote some choice verses. I believed...but I wasn't sure why. As time...and I dragged on, I felt dead. Nothing would ever be the same. My rock had become a shell...and I was lost.

One day, while visiting my mom, I heard a familiar, yet estranged voice out in the hallway. It was my sister, Bunny, and her husband, who had just come down from Oregon...though not to see me. But, strangely, as our eyes met, I saw that the hostility was there no more. We actually embraced, and arranged flowers together for our mom. But, even in this new found sisterly love, I sensed something terribly wrong. Bunny had undergone knee surgery a month before, and was walking slowly. Everything seemed slow about her...she simply wasn't herself. She told me she was due for more tests in the coming weeks. I reluctantly shrugged it off, and blamed the medication she was taking for this alarming change in her. I was also relieved that she still loved me. That was in May of 1999. She called me from Oregon several times the next two months, and we had wonderful talks. Mom perked up considerably when she saw and heard all that. Then, on August 17th, my niece called from Oregon to tell me that Bunny had just passed away...from a brain tumor. For Terri's sake, I remained calm on the phone. But, when I hung up, I bolted off the chair...fell to my knees...and screamed out for my Lord. I clung to my daughters' hands for dear life. How, in God's name, would I tell my mom this? It would certainly be the end of her too. I was beside myself...and knew that I needed help from another realm.

My beautiful sister, Bunny
joined the angels, Aug 17, 1999

It was a while before I could even think about seeing my mother. Then, my phone rang. It was a long, lost cousin, Mark, my mom's nephew, whom I had not known well, but who loved my mother dearly...as she did him. He was a golfer, and just happened to be in our town, and wanted me to go with him to see my mother. I said, "Yes". My mom was fading fast, and, as the end drew near, Mark had been there beside me more times than I can remember. We would stop afterwards for a late dinner, and we talked a "lifetime". He became the brother I never had. He had suffered from a bad heart for years, yet he looked the epitome of health...and as a good golfer should. One night, as we walked out of the nursing home, he jokingly said, "I suppose I'll be next". I, feeling total panic, said, "Don't you say that...you're my angel...and angels don't die."

My other two angels, Mark with my dear mother,
at the nursing home.

As I leaned over my mother those final nights, with Mark just behind me, I remembered many things. She had always called me her "beloved Carole" and, for the life of me, I could never understand why...except that I was the "baby" of the family. I had certainly caused her plenty of grief...but so also had my sisters. My eldest sister, Priscilla, a wonderful artist, is once again close to me, but my other surviving sister, Marilyn, chooses not to be...though I will always love her. I guessed I had really scored a point with my mother when, a few years before, I had become an auxiliary police officer. That made her so proud...and braggy! I think even the mail man didn't get away without hearing that story. I had even taught her some police codes...like "10-4"...all is well...everything is OK.

Yours truly as auxiliary police officer ... 10-4

As I stroked her head and called to her, she would look at me with vacant eyes...no response. Everything had all but quit, but her strong heart. For once, that beautiful heart was against her. I KNEW she was elsewhere, though. At Mark's urging, I snipped a lock of her hair. There was no telling how much longer she would go on...and no one could understand how or why she was holding on as she was. I had never told her about Bunny...but I somehow knew that she was aware...and was probably already seeing my sister on the other side. I then felt so thankful that my sister would be there to welcome her into the Lord's Kingdom. Exhausted, Mark and I left, and I half slept...waiting for the dreaded phone call.

The call came at 11 o'clock the next morning. My beloved mother was wholly and completely with Jesus. A strange numbness came over me, and I went through the motions of arrangements, collecting her things, and, finally, kissing her good-bye...for now. As I walked out of that awful place for the last time, I didn't even feel my feet on the floor. Mark was not there then...and I was totally alone...numb...and without tears. I felt a strange Presence walking beside me...and I knew I wasn't alone at all! I had just lost my mother...my best friend...my "rock"...yet I had never felt such peace and acceptance before. That seemed completely weird and foreign to me...and I hoped...prayed that I would somehow soon understand.

Estelle, the "star" of my life ...
my mother, my rock.

As the girls and I planned my mother's memorial over the next few days, I still couldn't shake off that strange Presence...that comfort...that assurance. Why wasn't I a weeping mess? Mom had lingered comatose for several days...and we had never really been able to say "goodbye and I love you" to each other. Was she really at peace in that vacant stare? As I was writing out the memorial card to be printed, a revelation hit me like a rock! Estelle Irby...Born: November 11, 1902...Joined the angels: October 4, 1999. My mother, bless her "heart", had waited for a reason. She had to get the date right...so I would KNOW...October 4... "10-4"...all is well...everything is OK! I know she did it on purpose! "Roger and out", Mom! But, that wasn't the end of it. Remember that old tree that split? Well, we have to learn to listen when God speaks. I recalled that, years before...when she had breast cancer...and was very near death...I got on my knees and, in my most fervent prayer...I begged God to please let me keep my mom to as close to 100 years old as possible. I promised that, in exchange, I would take care of her all her life. I did...and HE kept His promise to me! My mother was just shy of 97 years old. Having survived cancer, she was already a miracle. How blessed I had been to have had her with me that long. God NEVER forgets...as long as we don't.

I had lost a sister...and my mother within 48 days, but instead of darkness...a strange and beautiful Light was coming into my life. Yes, I shed tears, but only briefly...for this Light...this Presence was directing my time and my life toward other things. I knew then that this overwhelming Presence was the One Who carried me out of that nursing home that night. This Comforter pushed me...to the Holy Bible. Then, through my daughters, He pointed me to the Shroud of Turin, which taught me all I needed to know about Resurrection...Truth. That was well timed also, because not too far down the road, another one of His angels would leave us. Mark, just as predicted, passed on July 10, 2000. He WAS the next. I will always believe that our Heavenly Father placed Mark in my life when it mattered most. It was almost as though Mark knew he was on a mission...a heavenly one. Extraordinary!

The Christmas before my mother's stroke, my daughter, Christine, had given her a small touch lamp...the kind you touch...and it comes on. I never saw my mom so delighted and amused over anything before. She called it her "miracle lamp"...and kept it on a bedside table. I had told her about mine...a larger one, but she wouldn't believe it without seeing it. So, thanks to Chrissy, she got one for Christmas. I tell you this to segue into my final story...which is the crowning "glory" of why this website is here in the first place.

Not long after my Bible and Shroud studies began, I was sitting in my living room early one morning, praying for more guidance...and Truth. Suddenly, something caught my eye, and I looked over to see the lamp on...yes...the touch one. It wasn't needed, as the sun was coming through the window, and I wondered if one of the kids had left it on. That was doubtful, as we hadn't used it in a long time. I knew I hadn't touched it. So, I walked over and tapped it off. Several days later, while in contemplation, I noticed it on again...after having asked my family...who all said they had not touched it. Thinking I was going a little nuts, I turned it off again. Not long after that, Darlanne was sitting with me. She was on the phone, and I was looking at the lamp quizzically. Knowing my need for truth, she, too, stared at it while talking to her boss. I was feeling suspicious of everything...the lamp...and that my daughter was thinking I was in need of some help! Then, suddenly...actually "flickeringly"...the lamp lit...by itself...and Darlanne nearly dropped the phone...as I punched her in the leg, feverishly pointing to it...while she feverishly nodded that she saw it too. Not long after that, my grand-daughter, Noelle, saw it happen, and exclaimed, "Nana's here"! I don't know why, but it took me about a week to remember my mother's lamp...her "miracle lamp"...which my lamp had now become! Over a period of about a month it happened several more times...and then...no more. But, somehow, that lamp lighting told me that I was on the right path...to Truth.

If it was my mother who lit that lamp, and how could I not believe that?...then I know that she has gone on to higher things. But, I DO know this, my dear friends...life DOES go on...and loved ones DO watch over us...and God DOES speak and work in Wonderous Ways! By that experience, I was led to a most beautiful...and True passage in the Bible: "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." (Psalm 119:105). Light and Love is what it is all about, dear ones... from Jesus' Word...to His Shroud...to our own resurrection...even to lighting my path down a very dark hallway one night...and then my lamp. Follow His light, listen for His voice, and seek His Truths. He will guide you every step of the way...as He has me. Simply be willing to do His will...not yours...and you will have the Greatest Treasure there is...eternal Life with Jesus.

Every word of this testimony is Truth, and I pray that it will touch each and everyone who reads it...and will lead you to learn of Him as He asks...and plant His seeds of Truth wherever you can. Only with Jesus, as in my mother's case, can your heart and spirit really go on. Through Him, I know that Bunny and Mark go on too. There are more Truths and miracles I could tell here, but I will share with you as I continue to learn...and grow in Jesus. Please go to "Bible Truths" at the Sanctuary of Prayer...and learn what He wants you to know. May He bless you all...and gather you to Him at His True return as we approach the close of this age...which is near. Thank you for bearing with me. My journey has, because of Jesus, been... Extraordinary!

Much love and peace to you all.

In His blessings,

Carole Bevan-Irby