I was once a little girl. A child as a true picture of child-like faith; pulling out the felts to teach the Sabbath School lesson to my imaginary audience. When old enough, reading stories of missionaries, dreaming and wondering if I'd ever have the nerve; then, praying and hoping that one day God would give me the nerve.
A giggly little girl I was, always laughing with my big sister--my best friend. We'd get told to shut up cause we laughed too much, and I never understood why our laughter always ended in her struggling to breath and taking a treatment for her asthma. As a little girl, I also looked up to my brothers and drank in anything they had a desire to teach me--about motorcycles, repelling, or planning a 3-story treehouse. As a little girl, I was proud to know the meaning of two stroke and how to tie a figure 8; I was even more proud of the reason I knew: because Nathan and Nick were MY brothers.
I was once a little girl, prideful of my new ability to write. I can still clearly remember posting up my first sentance. Huge, scratchy letters covered an entire peice of construction paper reading "I love mom." I can also still remember my sister mocking me for the lines separating each word where I didn't trust a simple space to do it's job; I didn't care, she still understood what I wrote!
And mom--I loved helping her make cookies and cinnamon rolls or some sort of new craft that she had at hand. I was once a little girl that loved sitting on my daddy's lap and resting my head against his chest listening to him read or speak. I loved butterfly kisses and singing Micah 6:8 at family worship. I loved running through the woods, making sure I had a backpack of supplies preparing me for whatever adventure should arise next. I loved going on bike rides and riding down the hills with no hands. I loved the three mile square and sitting on the Ersham bench to look at the stars out at the cemetary. I used to hate being the last one asleep at night and just needed to be assured that everything would be alright.
I once was a little girl. And, despite my lack of time to laugh with my sister, learn from my brothers, cook with mom, sit on daddy's lap, or have family worships; despite my disliking of cuddling or caring much about motorcycles; despite my strong independence and desire to take care of myself; and despite the fact that I haven't so much as ridden a bike in over a year or been out to the cemetary to sit on the Ersham bench and look at stars...
I'm still running through the woods of life looking for adventure. I'm still learning about worship and how to share what I learned from my family with the larger family of God. I'm still finding every opportunity to laugh with my sister over crinkling papers and to learn from my brothers, whatever they have ready to pass on. I'm still longing for the safety of my daddy's arms and learning how to be a woman half as amazing as my mom. I'm still excited about learning things and loving the wonder of written words. I'm still a pursuer of child-like faith.
I'm still that same little girl.
