grief » PWOC International Blog

The Wedding Cake

Apr 232012

Excitement and joy was contagious in our family because my husband’s older brother was finally getting married! Since I enjoy baking and decorating, I was thrilled that they accepted my offer to make the wedding cake. I carefully baked, frosted, and piped detailing on the layered rounds. I was having such fun, my husband suggested I start a business and I even had potential clients from his work. I envisioned capturing the masterpiece on camera with cascading roses perfectly placed on each tier. To my dismay, their plan did not match mine at all. In fact, I was replaced in the decorating role by her sister. The idea of not being able to complete the job I had started made me very sad. I became worried the cake may fall or be damaged while others played with it and I would somehow be responsible. I even began to regret that I had offered to give this special gift at all.

My cousin, a fellow cake decorator and artist, had known how excited I was and also knew my disappointment. She kindly wrote me a note and a poem to encourage, sympathize, and gently point out my wrong attitude.

A Wedding Cake Epitaph By: Elnora Lee White

Charity Lynn, Charity Lynn,

‘Tis no sin to make a cake–

to frost and bake, but not to decorate.

‘Tis a trial, no easy smile,

but you have done a service same,

had you frosted the cake with Jesus’ name.

‘Tis also no sin, Charity Lynn, Charity Lynn,

To grieve the cake it might have been.

It was a relief to be able to share with her that just prior to reading her words I had been in prayer with my parents and God had given me peace. Suddenly my eyes were opened with new insight. I felt so much grief in being unable to fully give the gift I desired to give. He showed me how much more we must grieve Him when we don’t fully receive His perfect and holy gift! When you or I choose to accept His free gift of salvation with excitement, He celebrates with us. What do we choose after that though? Do we ever say, “Yep, that is good, but I really don’t want anything more, so please leave me alone now and let me be. This is good, but I really don’t want you to do any more work in my life”? Yet here the God of the universe–our creator–has an amazing plan that is so beautifully designed for us. Are we choosing to simply miss out on all that is grand and glorious in His plan by only taking the cake (if you will)? When we open our hearts to His gift but then refuse all the added blessings and beauty He would like to make of us along our journey, what are we saying to Him? Whether it is a lack of faith, love, wisdom, or accountability, how we must grieve Him. He loves us so much and wants to give us more than we can imagine, yet when we want it our own way, we miss out on fully enjoying His grand plan.

“…he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6

(Stay tuned for part 2)

by Charity Stadler

A Message in the Midst of Grief

Devotions

Apr 192010

Feelings of grief come and go. Sometimes they surprise me when they return after a period of joy and relative peace. Grief hit me smack in the face on Monday morning. The past few months have been full of reasons for grieving, I think I’m in a season of it. There have been deaths (loved ones of all ages, from a baby 2 days old to a grandfather who was almost 103 years old), senseless violence, life threatening illnesses, deployments, and many other horrible heartbreaking things. It seems like it is all around me, happening to those I love and many people close to me.

But life goes on and blessings abound. Flowers are blooming, and I love flowers (Hello bluebonnets!). Grass is turning green. I got used to feeling good again. Then WHAMMO! That ugly grief thing reared its head. Monday morning I was hit by an overwhelming sense that I wanted to talk to my husband face to face, for more than five minutes, and in person. This is the husband who has been in Iraq for about 5 months. R&R isn’t for another 93 days or so, give or take. There has been so much going on that I can’t just type it all in an email. Goodness knows that I love Skype and how it has blessed my family. But it isn’t enough sometimes, especially when those conversations happen right before MDH gets out of or into bed. We are constrained by his requirement to get to a meeting or his need for every precious minute of sleep he can get (not to mention the little ones sitting on my lap trying to get their face time with daddy).

I was bummed all day Monday and into Tuesday. Tuesday is my PWOC day. I found it very difficult to get ready on time and had been in tears at least once that morning. I finally made it in the car and was trying to obey the speed limit on post and still be on time for our program. The clouds and fierce winds outside reflected my mood on the inside, gloomy, fitful, sad. As I came around a big corner, the clouds opened up for a brief moment. A big shaft of morning sunlight pierced the clouds and beamed directly towards the side of my car and lit up my face. It felt like a big spot light aimed at me in my car. It made me laugh out loud.

During my last study we had been learning about “God’s Love in 3-D”. One of the lessons encouraged us to find ways that God was speaking directly to us. So I knew that this blast of sunlight was coming directly from Him. He made the sun, after all, and moves the clouds where and when He wants to. He was sending me a message. This is my interpretation of it:

“Hey you, sad daughter of mine, Rachel! I am here!
I AM here! Always, even it’s behind the clouds. I love you. I think you are special.
I moved these clouds just for you, just for this instant to remind you how big I am and how much you mean to me.”

Then I arrived at our chapel where I was surrounded by my fellow sisters in Christ who further blessed and encouraged me. God is good and He is faithful. He is our help in a very present trouble. If you are grieving, or in the midst of deployment, or just in the throws of your busy life, please be encouraged to look for ways that God is revealing Himself to you. He loves you in a very real and personal way.

Psalm 46

1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
5 God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
6 Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.
7 The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.
8 Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear,
he burns the shields [fn2] with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Journey of Transformation, Part 16

Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Mar 252010

A Shock in the Mirror

My visit with the rheumatologist in Bowling Green, Kentucky, is hardly worth mentioning. He was sorry to hear about my miscarriage, but he offered no relief from the lupus or hair loss. And his carelessness with prescriptions made me uneasy. If I had actually taken the Vioxx he tossed at me back in February, which typically is prescribed for rheumatoid arthritis and not lupus, I would have blamed myself and the medication for the miscarriage. No doubt I would have blamed the doctor too.

I see God’s grace in this.

My previous experience and knowledge with medications gave me the wisdom not to take the Vioxx. In subsequent years I saw law office television ads naming Vioxx as a villain in countless stories about horrific side effects. I had been spared unrelenting torment.

Soon June 2001 would be upon us and I had lost so much hair it looked sparse and straggly. To shield my waning self esteem from further humiliation I began wearing ball caps. When Steve returned from Fort Jackson he didn’t mention the condition of my hair and I wasn’t aware of its severity.

When Steve’s birthday arrived in late June I wanted to look pretty for him so I took time getting ready. It’s hard to believe that during all those months since February I hadn’t considered checking the back of my head.

Until that day.

I turned my back to the sink and held a mirror with my left hand while examining my hair with the right. Shock pulsated through my heart. I was transfixed. Anyone walking past would have thought I was a statue.

How could this be? Where there once was beautiful sandy blonde hair there now appeared three bald spots the size of golf balls. Steve entered the bathroom and I showed him the back of my head. He hadn’t noticed it before. Really?

I questioned, “What can I do? How can I cover the spots? I can’t wear a ball cap with a dress!” He suggested I try one of my summer hats. Although the idea sounded abhorrent it was either that or stay home.

I slowly walked into the bedroom to get a pair of earrings and the tears broke loose. As I reached for my jewelry pouch Steve came over to console me. With despair I cried, “I wanted to look pretty for you but I’m not pretty anymore.” He responded with a very male comment, “It’s okay. I don’t love you for your hair.”

I returned to the bathroom and struggled unsuccessfully to style the straggles. And even though the hat covered my scalp, it couldn’t erase the horrifying image I’d seen in the mirror. From my perspective the evening was marred by a new thing to grieve. Never before had I felt so ugly.

I began to wonder what all this was about. Why was it progressing? Was God punishing me? As far as I knew I wasn’t anymore sinful than any other Christian. I felt singled out. No other spouses in my military circles were enduring anything remotely close to this. Would I have to walk this road alone? How long would it last? How bad would it get?

Only God, and time, would tell.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Have you ever walked a path that seemed to have no clear direction? Did you feel as though you were suffering for nothing? During times when God brings perplexing circumstances into our lives it helps to adopt a God perspective or an eternal perspective. Remember that He sees things much differently and has a plan involving the entire universe.

An important question to ask during trials is, “Father, what can I learn from this?” Then wait for His answer.

In the meantime, read Isaiah 55; 1 Peter 4:12-19; and bury your face in the Psalms.

_____________________________

Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

Journey of Transformation, Part 14

Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Mar 112010

Emergency

The next morning Steve and I ate breakfast in my hospital room and around 9 a.m. I was discharged. After a quick stop at the pharmacy for pain medication and Gas-X we headed home. The old familiar emotions that jarred me the day before began rumbling again and I was grateful we lived only twenty minutes from Fort Campbell.

We pulled into the garage, got out of the car, and Steve opened the door to the house. With each step I felt waves of grief rising, overriding my weariness. Seconds after I stepped inside new sobs escaped for the first time in 24 hours and I released them on Steve’s shoulder.

Not having the same connection to the pregnancy, Steve was somewhat perplexed by my outburst. The whole experience was surreal to him. It might have been more mutual if he had known about the pregnancy beforehand, but men react differently.

Once the waterworks subsided I led Steve over to the end table in our living room and showed him the sonogram photo. With tears in his eyes he said, “It’s very sad.” At that point the loss became a little more tangible. However, he would never understand my trauma.

That night I developed a fever of 101-F along with severe pain in my abdomen. Ibuprofen didn’t break the fever and it rose to 101.7-F so we took off to the ER. This time I was really glad that Fort Campbell was only twenty minutes away.

After waiting a couple hours I was finally seen by a doctor. He asked several questions, looked at my medications, and glared at me when he saw the OB/GYN had prescribed Tylox for pain. With a strange blend of astonishment and anger he announced, “This is for end stage cancer patients!” I was so bewildered by his remark that I just stared back at him. I wasn’t sure if he was angry with me for not taking it (I had chosen not to because I didn’t want liver damage) or if he was floored that the doctor had prescribed such a potent drug. Whatever the case, this doc had a lousy bedside manner.

Once the happy doctor left the room Steve walked me over to the bathroom. As soon as I set foot inside I dropped to the floor. I’ll never know what caused the blackout but I was glad Steve was there to catch me. The last thing I needed was injury. Again I sensed God’s protection and provision.

We returned home around 1 a.m. and I managed to sleep through the night. Steve had been given a four-day pass from school at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, so he was able to stay for only three more days. During those days he made meals, bought take out, and monitored me to make sure I didn’t have another fever. Then he departed, reluctantly, on Wednesday, April 25, 2001.

So there I was, left with unresolved grief from a miscarriage and the unrelenting reality of lupus and hair loss. I was teetering between caring for myself and slipping into debilitating fatigue. Soon I would be in for another road trip.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Stay connected for more. Jehovah Jireh keeps on providing. The mysteries and complexities of our lives might never be clear in our time, but one thing is certain: God’s ways and thoughts are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9); and, His plans for our future are laced with goodness and hope (Jeremiah 29:11).

_____________________________

Journey of Transformation, Part 12

Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Feb 252010

Sovereign Comfort

Once the hospital admission process was complete, I was escorted to a private room for final surgery prep. My friend never left my side from the moment she arrived late that morning. While I changed into a lovely hospital gown her husband went to find out if Steve had received the Red Cross message.

Across the room I noticed a table covered with a variety of reading materials including a Bible. I went over to pick up the Bible and underneath was a stack of small booklets. I thumbed through them and one in particular caught my eye. The title was How Can I Deal with My Loss? — A very appropriate title indeed. However, something else jumped out at me from the lower half of the cover. A white Avery label about one inch wide and four inches long displayed the following:

Compliments of:

CH (CPT) Steven Firtko and the 7-101 AVN BN UMT (Unit Ministry Team)

My heart nearly stopped. All I could think was, “No way!” Apparently my husband had been in that same hospital room ministering to a woman who also had lost a baby. Holding that booklet in my hands was like having Steve’s spirit in the room.

This sweet little gift from God proved His sovereignty and omniscience. It was all part of His grand plan for me to be in that particular room. Knowing exactly what I would need, He prompted my husband to plant a booklet with his name on it in the right place at the right time. My God shows up. When He brings or allows something difficult, He also provides a soothing balm to ease the pain.

While my friend and I marveled at God’s handiwork her husband returned with news. Steve had finally received the Red Cross message, but only after it floated around Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for a while before reaching him at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Overwhelmed by the blatant stupidity of this, I felt the anger phase of grief rising up.

My emotions were getting a little more unpredictable. Along with the emotional upheaval came hormonal upheaval. I had a good attitude one minute and anger the next. Clearly I was no longer operating on autopilot. Reality came out to bite me once again. But when my friend’s husband got Steve on the phone my fury had to wait. Our conversation went something like this:

S: How are you? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? What a shock.

L: I wanted to tell you in person and I fully expected to have an opportunity. This was too significant to share over the phone.

S: You know how I found out? I was sitting in class and the class leader gave me a note that said Your wife is in the hospital due to complications of pregnancy. He told me to go see the Chaplain teacher. So I went to his office, he asked me to sit down, and he closed the door. Then he spoke, “I’m sorry I have bad news. Your wife had a miscarriage.” My mouth dropped open and I exclaimed, “What? I didn’t even know she was pregnant.” Then he excused me from class to get a plane ticket. I’m in Nashville now waiting for my ride. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Love you.

L: I’m going into surgery soon. I’ll see you when it’s over. Love you too.

So he finally knew. What a horrendous shock . . . for both of us. After the surgery I would be glad I persuaded the doctor to make arrangements for me to stay overnight. And God would show up again.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Dear women of PWOC, I pray and trust that the Lord is using this story to encourage and perhaps challenge you. This isn’t for me or just about me. It’s for Christ and all about how He wants to use it. Please stay connected for more. As always, you may access previous entries in Life Happens – Jesus Answers under “Categories.” Have a Christ-filled week.

_____________________________

Journey of Transformation, Part 10

Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Feb 112010

Holding It Together

The kind ob/gyn managed to contact my friend and then invited me to sit down on the blue plastic chair placed against the wall behind her desk. I sat in that chair, rocking forward and back, arms wrapped around my midsection. The rocking was instinctive. I either was attempting to comfort my shattered soul; or I was subconsciously rocking the newborn I would never hold. Like Jackie Kennedy scrambling to collect a piece of John’s skull from the back of their open convertible the day he was assassinated, I was desperately grasping the womb that encased my dead baby.

I stared at the floor, expressionless; feeling battered and bruised on the inside. It was all emotion. The wailing episode had drained me. My brain became more and more disengaged as I slipped into autopilot. But this dark journey had just begun and I needed to stay present.

The doctor proceeded to call the Red Cross. It was their job to locate and notify Steve. Little did I know it would take extra effort and a lot of time for them to succeed. As the ob/gyn initiated her phone call, the male nurse who had shoved tissue into my hand earlier came to escort me to a different doctor. He led me out of the examining room to the right, down a corridor, through the halls. I was in a fog. Nothing seemed real. Everything was blurry. I put one foot in front of the other, staying directly behind him, keeping my head straight without turning to the right or the left.

As we walked down the center of the hallway, we cut a path requiring people to walk around us. Through my peripheral vision I caught glimpses of pregnant women passing me on both sides. Today that memory brings to mind God’s parting of the Red Sea. He cut a path through the water so the people could cross. In my case, I carried death down the corridor while life passed by me. It seemed cruel. If I could have mustered the strength, I might have screamed.

The date of this dreadful event was Friday, April 20, 2001. The new doctor explained that even though I hadn’t had any cramping or significant bleeding up to that point, it could happen over the weekend which would make this situation much worse. He encouraged me to schedule a D & C for later that afternoon. (Dilation and Curettage — A common procedure used to remove tissue that hasn’t been expelled on its own. It also stops bleeding and prevents infection.) Because the day was getting older and operating rooms were filling up, I had to decide quickly.

It was so abrupt. I had just arrived at the hospital at 9:30 a.m. to be examined; then one hour later learned I’d had a miscarriage; and then I was strongly encouraged to get rid of the contents of my womb. Just like that. Still, reason and wisdom took control over the grief and anger I felt brewing inside. I’ve always been practical; doing what makes the most sense. Even during the most unbearable loss of my life, I managed to pull myself out of autopilot and use my brain. Or was the Holy Spirit responsible for that? He had to be holding me together.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Women of PWOC, and other interested parties, stay connected for the rest of the story. It will continue as long as the Lord allows. If you’re a little lost, and would like to get caught up, feel free to read previous entries in Life Happens – Jesus Answers under “Categories.” Until next time, may God bless you with peace and joy as you traverse your week.

_____________________________

Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

Journey of Transformation, Part 9

Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Feb 042010

LifeHappensBanner

Grief Emerges

When the doctor returned to the examining room I was sitting on the table composed but stunned. The questions that bounced around in my brain still couldn’t be asked. My mouth wasn’t ready to engage. This had been my first pregnancy. At the time I didn’t know it would be my last. The road ahead would be long and hard but I had to stay present in this dark moment.

The doctor began asking necessary questions: “Where is your husband?” I responded, “He’s not here. He’s at school. He didn’t even know I was pregnant . . . no one knows.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. Then embarrassment climbed atop all the other emotions accumulating at my core. Suddenly I was no longer napping in denial. Reality woke me up.

It rumbled and pushed its way up from a depth I didn’t know existed. Like hot bubbling lava desperate to burst forth from an active volcanic core, grief emerged indescribable. All I did was answer the doctor’s question, but that was enough to cause anguish to churn and rise like waves of nausea determined to force out projectile vomit. Only, this wasn’t vomit, this was the very essence of my being — my soul. My soul knew what happened. It knows everything. It writhed and groaned like it wanted to leave my body in search of relief from the agony holding it captive.

By the time the doctor asked the next question grief gripped my heart. “Where is he?” she inquired with concern. I couldn’t answer. My body felt paralyzed. Waves of sorrow swirled upward and made their way to my shoulders and neck. My head grew hot. As I opened my mouth and struggled to speak, the waves unleashed streams of despair through my eyes. With labored breath I spoke in a slow, quiet whisper, sobs punctuating the sentence, “Heee’s at . . . he’s . . . he . . . heee’s at . . . Fort . . . Leaven . . . worth . . . Kansas.”

The doctor couldn’t understand what I said so she asked the question again, “Where is he?” Once more I fought to release the words, “Fort Leaven . . . worth . . . Kansas.” Then it came. What had been rumbling from the depth of my being finally made its way out in full force. With raw, uninhibited emotion my vocal chords emitted something like the sound of a soul tormented in hell. Crying and sobbing were done. For the first time in my life I WAILED.

It came from a deep, dark, black hole — a place outside my body — a dimension unknown to mankind — a place I’d never been. The doctor held my head to her BDU clad chest and spoke gently, “This is the hardest part of my job.” She had done this before, many times.

She gave me a few minutes to expel the first wave of volcanic grief. A hazy cloud formed around me. I felt anesthetized. In a kind, compassionate manner the doctor continued her questions, “Is there anyone here we can call?” I had to think for a minute but one person came to mind. With that name the doctor went over to her desk and set the notification process in motion.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Women of PWOC, and other interested parties, stay connected for the rest of the story. God displays His faithfulness and compassion each step of the way. He is El Roi: God of Seeing; El Shaddai: God All Sufficient; Jehovah-Jireh: The Lord will Provide; and ultimately, Jehovah-Rophe: The Lord Who Heals.

_____________________________

“Life Happens – Jesus Answers” is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org

Journey of Transformation, Part 8

Jesus Answers, Life Happens, Life Happens Jesus Answers, Real life stories, Testimonies

Jan 282010

LifeHappensBanner

Unexpected Loss

After my first ob/gyn visit I went home still unsure what to think. The 10.5 week old fetus seemed normal but it had developed only to 9.5 weeks and the doctor’s incongruent words, tone, and body language suggested there could be a problem. With that I trusted God with the pregnancy knowing His will would be accomplished.

During the next week I continued studying my Merck Manual to read about risk factors and possible symptoms to watch for. The days progressed without incident until Friday, April 20, 2001, when as a precaution I called the doctor’s office to inquire about the light spotting I noticed.

The nurse on the other end of the line encouraged me to get checked even though the symptoms were insignificant. So I ended up at the doctor’s office at 9:30 a.m. I patiently sat in the waiting room eating an egg and a banana not expecting bad news. According to the Merck Manual my symptoms seemed harmless.

A nurse came to take my vital signs and weight. I had lost a couple pounds but certainly wasn’t trying to, especially during pregnancy. I commented on the weight loss and the nurse said many women lose weight during the first several weeks. I latched onto her reassurance like a security blanket as she led me into an examining room and asked me to change.

In short order a female ob/gyn came in to perform a sonogram. I remember lying on the table looking at the screen oblivious to the whole process. It looked different from the sonogram the week before but I still thought everything was normal. Then the ob/gyn called someone else into the room. I don’t know who this other person was. She was wearing scrubs and didn’t look like a doctor. There was no introduction and she never looked at me. She simply looked at the screen, shook her head, turned and left the room.

Perplexed, I observed all this activity without a word from anyone. Then the doctor had me look at the screen. All I could see was a white shadow. She pointed to where the heartbeat should have been and said, “There’s no heartbeat. The fetus is no longer viable.” Denial set in. How could this be? Did the equipment malfunction? How could this sonogram picture be so strikingly different from the first one? How could this fetus go from a live, active, kicking baby to a white shadowy blob in just a few days? There had been no cramping, no bleeding, no symptoms whatsoever except for minor spotting. How could this much destruction happen without any sign at all? I thought they must have made a mistake. Questions railed against the sides of my brain but I was too stunned to ask them out loud.

Shock began to set in as I laid back down on the table. Grief gradually enshrouded me with a blanket of sorrow and the atmosphere in the room grew silent and dreary. No one said anything. The male tech shoved a couple pieces of tissue in my left hand as if to declare, “I know what’s coming!” Then he and the doctor stepped out so I could get dressed.

One would think I’d just been shot in the chest or struck with a two-by-four. I was dumbfounded. But something rumbled deep in my soul that was soon to erupt.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES …

Remember, in this new day of a new month in a new year and a new decade, God is doing a new thing, and He always has the best in mind for you no matter what your circumstances might be (Isaiah 43:18-19; Romans 8:28-30). People change and things change, but Our Lord is steadfast, faithful, and unchanging. As you walk with Him this year, rely on the truth of Scripture. Rely on His consistent love and grace. Rely on His strength and stability. But most of all rely on Him.

For those of you who are new to this column, I’m in the process of sharing my personal journey of transformation that has occurred over the last decade. You can get caught up from the beginning of the journey by accessing previous entries in Life Happens – Jesus Answers under “categories.”

_______________________________

PWOC International Blog

The Wedding Cake

A Message in the Midst of Grief

Journey of Transformation, Part 16

A Shock in the Mirror

Journey of Transformation, Part 14

Emergency

Journey of Transformation, Part 12

Sovereign Comfort

Journey of Transformation, Part 10

Holding It Together

Journey of Transformation, Part 8

Unexpected Loss

Connect

Archives

Links

Regions

Categories