When I lived in my favorite childhood house, I was a fairy princess of the enchanting little frog pond that coalesced in the corner drainage ditch in a season of extraordinary rainfall. Looking back, I am grateful that my Momma (who grew up running around on a farm) wasn’t scared to let me get muddy playing in the ditch with the frogs.
As a youngster I lived in my imagination most of the time. I invented stories and found ways to immerse myself in them mentally and physically like sticking my whole self into the pond to observe all the activities of the frog kingdom. The theme of my stories was me being brave and kind and rescuing or helping whoever needed help.
Sometimes, I was a princess that lived in a mansion, but I snuck out to bring gifts and food to a girl my age who slept in an old broken down carriage at a junk yard. We were friends.
I would walk bravely through narrow streets with people lying or sitting on each side, observing their sadness, illness, and despair. I wanted to see their sadness transformed to joy and see them live well.
I also went through a phase of pretending to be poor and homeless by sleeping on our hard floor. I was excited that my bedroom window had no screen, so I could pretend to escape like some young children need to do (the window opened into back yard.)
My family culture included going to places near or far to share God’s love in practical ways like providing dental care and like engaging in caring, respectful relationship with them.
In reality, I experienced the feeling of God’s love for the people who came to stand in long lines awaiting their turn for medical or dental care. I felt His love come through my heart and reach out towards them in strength and warmth. I was 10 years old and I spun around and was singing as the daily rain showers began to fall.
Since I can remember I have felt a deep sense of purpose somehow, someway in various ways to be part of that stream of living water allowing God’s life-giving love to flow through to everyone else God loves. ❤️
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