Showing posts with label comfort. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comfort. Show all posts

Saturday, 26 November 2016

Reading for Peace

I have nothing to brag about: I am a loving mother and grandmother who has written since the age of eleven. History and compassion are deeply entwined in my stories and articles. I chose to write from the heart rather than anything sensational which is why my books may never reach best-seller lists, but I do hope they will be found by those people whose hearts would be warmed. My website describes each book and provides links to where they may be purchased.

Friday, 11 March 2016

An Oasis in a Camp

Okay, backtrack with me, if you will, because I forgot some important stuff that I want to tuck in right here so you get the drift of the plot better.

Have you ever tried to put a puzzle together without having a picture to follow? It's pretty hard, isn't it? Well, I guess we all, as we get older, try to do that with our past in one way or another, don't we?

As I journeyed through my desert-like existence, I came across oasis's that were bright spots which nourished my soul for years to come. One of them happened shortly before I turned eleven.

Here we can pick up a puzzle piece that I only found recently. The reason I was at this particular place at this time, a Summer Vacation Bible Camp, was because my father was an electrician there, and I imagine they gave him a cut so us kids could join in all the fun. No matter what the reason, it was a blessed respite from the discord at home, and I, as a normally shy young girl, really blossomed for some reason. Not only that, but I got to know Jesus as my personal Saviour and through the following years, my dearest Friend.

Although many memories in the annals of time have faded away these details are pretty much picture perfect to this day.

There is one hitch, though. I knew what kind of home I was going back to, and even as a small child, I worried about being able to hang on to that glorious peace I had found by surrendering my heart to God.

We had a...what would you call it? It wasn't a station wagon, exactly because there were no seats in the back, just benches for us children to sit on, and I suppose Dad's tools when we weren't along. I was back there as we drove homeward and wiled the time away singing those catchy tunes learned earlier that week.

My Dad, who was driving, and my siblings may have thought I was just happy, but that was not the case, I was praying, praying earnestly that I could be a 'light' to my family. Do you know what that means?

Well, it must have been only a couple days later when I ended up squabbling with my sister and someone said: "I didn't think anything happened to you, you haven't changed."

Oh, did that ever hurt! I went silent and walked outside. What was a little girl to do? I found my way to the front of the house where my mother had planted some hollyhocks; they were tall and blooming by then.

I think I was standing there, not really seeing them when the sweetest voice seemed to float in the air: "Lo I am with you always." Suddenly I realised how pretty the flowers were, how green the grass, and the sky was a bright, clear blue. Do you wonder why I have cherished that memory and even as I write tears moisten my eyes?

This is part of my memoirs from my childhood. Comments and questions are welcome.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.