There are so many great stories we all learned in Sunday School. Over zealous volunteers telling us bible stories with flannel graph figures… I personally met God for the first time in Vacation Bible School at the age of nine. I was being tormented at night…I couldn’t sleep. Fear was my constant enemy and I hated the darkness. Though all my sisters slept in the same room with me, four bunkbeds in the middle of one tiny room…when I talked about what was happening, it was more like telling ghost stories than real to them. To me…I really thought my life was in danger. I never slept, I was always afraid and I cried a lot. I’d pull my pink quilt over my head and shake and imagine evil all night long. At that same time my momma was bedridden, sick with a pregnancy that almost killed her. Only rich people had insurance back then…I knew she was really sick, she never got out of bed, never got dressed, never fed us. I was always afraid she would die. I used to lay in the bed beside her after daddy left for work, telling her how I stood on a chair and cooked rice for the “kids.” She struggled to stay awake for more than a few minutes… I would wait til her eyes closed, and then whisper how afraid I was. She knew nothing of God, but one afternoon she opened one sad brown eye and whispered, “you need a bible.” A couple of days later I walked a few blocks to a large Presbyterian church that we passed on the main street nearly everyday. I can still see the church secretaries face, when I pulled open the big glass doors and asked where I could get a bible. The shock…She had hairspray plastered hair all teased up, a good ten inches high. She was very professional and handed me a flier about their Vacation Bible School program. She sternly informed me I could certainly earn one. Disappointed, I took the flier and hoped there was some way. I crawled into bed beside my momma and begged her to let me go. I remember pushing her blonde hair off of her sweaty face and wondering if one day she wouldn’t wake up anymore. My nightmares and the torment drove me. I needed relief…momma said I needed a bible. I walked to that church everyday for six weeks. No one else wanted to go, so I just went by myself. My daddy was at work and my momma wasn’t awake much. No one knew where any of us kids were. Through most my life, my daddy told stories of his childhood spent with his aunt and uncle. They were pastors and the little bit he knew of God, he learned from them. He told us how his aunt always prayed for hours, and he loved laying under a tree around sunrise and listening to her rhythmic sing song prayers…It stayed with him all his life. He taught us how to be “good” based on what his aunt taught him. After six weeks of faithful attendance at VBS, memorizing the 23rd Psalm, and the Beattitudes…I was rewarded with a bible. It was black leather and the pages were trimmed in red, and it even had my name on it in gold. No one told me I was a sinner there, no one asked about my parents…They taught me some of God’s word. It was the end of summer by then and I had to wait till I got home from school…but I would crawl into bed beside momma, and recite the 23rd Psalm. I like to think it always pulled her back from the edge…and she would open her eyes, smile and pat my leg. People raised in church so often take their amazing heritage for granted. Not knowing that the people who cross their paths need God like they need air. One of the most amazing things about my life now… Though it is a life of intense isolation…there is Britton's love to read. He loves Max Lucado books and he loves John Eldredge as well… but this year we started reading in Genesis out of a David Jeremiah Study Bible. It has been fun and fascinating. The things I’ve learned and relearned have blessed, and inspired me. We were reading the story of Samuel going to anoint Jesse’s youngest son, King. David and Goliath is a story Britton likes to read over and over again. That’s what got me thinking about when I was such a little girl and how afraid I was that one year. How I walked by myself to that big old scary church. No one knew me there, and no one knew that I needed to slay a really big giant…but God knew. When I think back on that little girl. I am so very proud of her. She was determined and brave, even though she was very small for her age. If they asked her to memorize the whole bible I happen to know she would’ve given it a try. Armed with the 23rd Psalm, she had become a giant slayer. After that summer in “training” I’d crawl into the bottom bunk at night…recite all I had memorized, and lay that hard earned bible open across my chest. The fears never came for me after that. The word of God gave me the peace I sought… How could I have known that it laid the foundation for how I would live my life in the future? It is the same battle strategy, because it is the same enemy. If there is a giant of fear, blame, condemnation or shame? No matter the giant that calls out your name, and screams for you to be afraid…The same sword that slew Goliath, slays all the giants of fear. BOOK Update!!! EIGHT DAYS TILL BOOK 2 0 No Choosing Releases! YEP 8 DAYS!!!! Fifty people have read it, and the reviews will be added to Amazon over the weekend. In case the back cover is too small to read...here it is.
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