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Snot-Sob Praying… Anybody?

Photocred: Dreamstime

I can’t imagine that I’m the only one who finds myself so overwhelmed with emotion when I start praying that before I know it, I’m “snot-sobbing”. The tears flow from my eyes with the same intensity as water gushing from an upcapped fire hydrant. They may be tears from suffering in some manner, be it anxiety, stress, depression, or feeling overwhelmed, but oftentimes they are tears of surrender in pleading to GOD, “Lord, PLEASE take it…take it all. I can’t do this anymore.” Followed by a ton of praise, thanking Him for His eternal faithfulness and every blessing.

Only recently did I realize that “surrendering to GOD” is NOT a “one-and-done” commitment. For the last four and a half years I’ve professed and confessed that I’ve surrendered to Him, but then there’s been this intense back-and-forth. I give it to GOD, then I take a little bit back. “I can handle this…it’s small, I don’t need to bother You with this.” And that “little thing” never seems to be resolved or finished, then I’m right back to surrendering everything to Him. He’s always willing to take it and then I’m on to the next thing until I start thinking that I can do “this” or “that” on my own. Before I realize it, I’m back at the foot of the cross with a tote bag and I’m stuffing some of the small stuff back inside. As I turn away from the cross I’m always thinking, “I just hate to ‘bother’ Him with these annoying little things; I’ve got this”, and I never look back because I’m pretty sure He’d be beckoning me to just “leave it”.

I return to my life, carrying the tote bag of the “small stuff” that I’m not supposed to “sweat”, and yet EVERY SINGLE TIME, I am, indeed, “sweating” it. I make my way back to the cross, overturning my tote bag, giving it all back to Him. This has been exhausting. Surrendering to GOD shouldn’t be so hard because He is ALWAYS in control. Even when I think I’m “controlling it”, I’m not…HE is. I’m pretty sure it’s related to my ego. The definition of “ego” is “a person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance”. I’m okay with the “self-esteem” part – everyone should have a good and healthy sense of self, but I’m much less impressed with self-importance. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been living a Christ-centered life for that long and I’m still a “work in progress”. What I DO know is that I TRUST GOD and His Word. What I DON’T TRUST is the world but let’s face it, I lived in the world for fifty-four years before I started living in the Word.

I’m just so thankful that when I do this “back-and-forth” of surrendering, there’s no judgment or condemnation. He’s always there every time I collapse at the foot of the cross and give it all to Him – the big stuff AND the small stuff. Sometimes I think if I could hear His voice, I might hear, “Terri, seriously, I DO want it all…you’re NOT bothering me. You’re my Daughter and I ALWAYS want to help you.” Perhaps it’s not just me typing those words and instead, I’m hearing them in my heart.

I always feel so much lighter after a “snot-sob-praying” fest where I’ve again, dumped everything at the foot of the cross. I’m tired of taking stuff back. I’ve come to realize that surrendering to GOD is absolutely NOT a “one and done”, and if that means I need to surrender to Him on a daily basis, so be it. I want Him to have it all so that I can concentrate on doing what He put me on this earth to do… spread the Gospel, serve others, and glorify Him.

Although I know He loves me with an eternal, unfailing love, I’m sure He’d like to see more from me than just “ugly crying”!

“Give all of your worries and cares to GOD, for he cares for you.” ~1 Peter 5:7

“So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” ~Romans 8:1

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

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Yup…it’s still dead

My old life, that is.  I’m happy to report that it’s still dead as a doornail.  I was baptized two years ago today and my new life in Christ has been, and continues to be, an amazing journey.

Before turning my life over to Jesus in January of 2017, I had been desperately searching for “something”, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.  There was a whole host of things that I was seeking:  peace, joy, tranquility, strength, courage, protection and grounding.  Sometimes I felt as though I was hovering a few feet off the ground, longing to land so that I could keep moving forward, instead of being tossed around, to and fro, back and forth.  Good grief, SOMEBODY SAVE ME!!!

And there He was…in the waiting.  He was always there, but somehow I thought I was too insignificant, very unworthy, too sinful, not good enough, so I never really turned to Him.  I was afraid.  I thought, ‘He can’t help me’, or ‘Maybe He wouldn’t want to help someone like me’.  I was someone who knew about Him, but never really connected with Him or got to know Him on a personal level.  I believed in His awesome power and greatness and I guess that left me feeling intimidated, that I just wasn’t important enough…that He had bigger fish to fry than to help me.  Like most people, I don’t like to be ‘wrong’, but I was SO WRONG when it came to that way of thinking.

Jesus didn’t come down from heaven as the Son of God to help and save religious zealots.  He came to save the broken and the lost.  He came to teach, to heal, and to redeem.  During my second or third time attending service at Granite United Church, I remember Pastor Anthony Milas speaking about a herd of sheep, and posing the question, “If you had ninety-nine sheep and one was lost, would you leave the ninety-nine to go find the lost one?”  In being a brand-new Christian, in my head I was thinking, “Nah, fahgedaboudit…I wouldn’t leave the whole herd of sheep for just ONE!”  Yeah…I totally missed the message that day…but not for long!  My head’s been buried in the bible every day since.  I seek His Word and His Truth first and foremost.  I get it now…about going after that “one lost sheep”.  At one point in my life, I WAS that “one”.

Don’t think for one minute that you’re “not worthy”, or that you’ve done too many terrible things that your life cannot be forever changed by the blood of Christ.  He’s always in the waiting.  His invitation to come to the table is an open one.  If you weren’t aware that you’ve always been invited… YOU’RE INVITED!

I have only one regret – that it took me over 50 years to realize that I was invited to come to His table.  I’m so thankful that when I pulled up a chair and sat down, I was welcomed with opened arms.  I was forgiven.  I was saved.  My old life died in baptism when I was submerged in the water and my new life in Christ began when I was raised up.

 

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Romans 6:4 ~ “We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life”. (ESV)

 

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

 

 

 

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Who does God say you are?

I had the pleasure of hearing Pastor Matt Fry from C3 Church in Clayton, NC speak and bring the Truth at service yesterday at Granited United Church. One of the first things he asked was, “What label are you wearing?” Label? What label? Am I wearing a label? Geez…where is it? What does it say? Who gave me this label? Does it say “I’m anxious?”, “I’m not worthy?”, “I’m not good enough?” If you’re wearing a label and it doesn’t reflect who God says you are, it’s time to rip it off. The “Hello, My Name Is…” tag isn’t cuttin’ it because SOMEone, SOMEwhere gave it to you when you weren’t even looking and it’s defined you ever since.

Pastor Matt shared a poignant story from when he was a young boy regarding the “reading table” he was assigned to sit at in class. He promptly went, of his own accord, and sat down at the “advanced” reading table, confident that he was sitting where he was supposed to. Where God instructed him to sit, but the teacher asked him to move…to sit at the “average” reading table. There it is! The “label”…he didn’t ask for it, I’m sure he didn’t want it and although the teacher may have believed that this was the “right” table for him, she had no idea that in that one instant, she would define who he was…slapping an “average” label the size of Texas right across his chest. More importantly, even though the sign was invisible and no one else could see it, HE saw it…believing it in his heart. A teacher with good intentions…innocent enough, I’m sure, but a label-giver, nonetheless. No apples-on-the-desk for her!

Pastor Matt stated that we first need to “discover” who we are in Christ and then we need to “declare” who God says we are. In his book, “I Am”, Pastor Matt shows you how to unlock God’s power and purpose for your life by discovering who you are in Him. By exploring the seven “I AM” statements Jesus made in the Book of John, he unpacks key truths that will help you discover who He is and ultimately reveal your true identity in Christ. My husband bought the book at the Warrior’s Men’s Breakfast yesterday morning, so as soon as he’s done reading it, I’m going to dive in!

Pastor Matt provides free daily declarations that you can download from his website: http://www.mattfry.com

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Yesterday’s message came without coincidence as I’ve been trying to figure out exactly who God says I am. I’ve already peeled off a couple of labels that I unknowingly picked up along the way. Although some were slapped across my chest without my knowledge, there was one label, when I was fifteen (over forty years ago), that a teenaged boy gave me regarding my weight. I didn’t ask for it…I didn’t want it but I’ve worn it for over four decades. Only recently did I take a big black Sharpie marker and cover up what it said, but I haven’t been able to take it off…yet. I know I’m moving in the right direction and I’m clearly a work in progress. I am His. I’ll just straighten my crown, pull my shoulders back and remember Who I belong to.

I need to discover who God says I am and then I need to declare it. When it comes to me clearly, filling my heart with His wisdom, grace and love, rest-assured, an air horn and megaphone will be involved because I will totally be shouting it from the rooftops!

-Numbers 14:28- “As surely as I live, declares the Lord, I will do to you the very things I heard you say.” NLT

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

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Celebrating Father’s Day With A Broken Heart

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This is the first Father’s Day without my beloved Dad.  He was the greatest man I’ve ever known and loved (other than my husband).  He was my protector, my hero, my confidante, my mentor, my rock.  He was a constant fixture in my life for over 50 years.  Being blessed with a great memory, I turned 55 a few months after he died at 90 years old, and I can remember back to when I was 4 or 5.  This means that I have 50 years of memories for which I am so thankful and blessed; but it makes it all that much harder to let him go because I did have him for so long.  From the time I was 17 and my only (and older) brother died at 24 years old, everyone’s mortality, including my own, has been hovering mere inches from my face for nearly four decades.  I have dreaded, for what seems like my whole life, losing my Dad…I knew it would come and I believed that I’d NEVER be READY…EVER.

As I sit here, writing this, my Amazon Music is on shuffle, and Sidewalk Prophets’ “This is not goodbye” just played, followed by Chris Tomlin’s “Good, Good Father”; clearly NOT by coincidence!

I never really believed in coincidence, but after turning my life over to God, I KNEW there was no such thing.  God has a plan for everyone.  Always.  I believe His plan for me was to turn to Jesus, ask for the forgiveness of my sins and for Him to be my Lord and Savior.  Once I did so, I became filled with the most incredible joy, love and peace that I have ever known.  No coincidence that He was preparing me for what was to come seven months later…my Dad’s terminal cancer diagnosis and subsequent passing nine days after that.  I was so thankful that I was with him while he transitioned…that I was with him when he took his last breath and left his physical body, no longer suffering or in pain.  I had prayed for this just a week earlier; falling to my knees and pleading with God to NOT let my Dad suffer and if that meant He had to take him the following week, to please do so…and He did. Answered prayer.

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So, as I sit in my Dad’s back yard this morning, on Father’s Day, wearing his robe, drinking from his “#1 Dad” coffee mug, there is a peace in the quiet stillness of this morning.  He may not be here with me physically, but he is here, in his glorious spirit form.  I can feel his love as though he has his loving arms wrapped around me.

Many years ago, he and I had a moment when I all-of-a-sudden became overcome with emotion, just thinking of the time when he would no longer be with me.  I was sitting on the ground with my back to him, cleaning the wheels of my car.  My shoulders were kind of shaking a little as I quietly snot-sobbed and he said, “Tess?”  I turned to look at him with tears streaming down my face, snots and all.  Without any words between us, his eyes filled up when he saw my face, and his bottom lip quivered ever-so-slightly, because this was the “connection” we had – emotionally, spiritually – and I squeaked out, “Just promise me that ‘when the time comes’, you’ll ALWAYS be with me.”  As tears spilled out of his eyes, and gently rolled down his always-cherry-colored cheeks, he whispered, “I promise”.  Never being one to break a promise – EVER – I know that he IS always with me.

I love and miss you more than I can say, Daddy, but I thank you for keeping your promise… Happy Father’s Day “upta” Heaven.

“The Lord is close to the broken-hearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” – Psalm 34:18

“He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds.” – Psalm 147:3

 

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

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It may not be perfect, but we are blessed!

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Sixteen years ago today, Dave and I signed our respective names and initials no less than a hundred times. After renting for eighteen years, we were finally buying our first home. It was bittersweet for a whole host of reasons, but truth-to-tell, it was more “sweet” than “bitter”, and very exciting (and scary!) all at the same time.

After we finished the closing, we arrived at our little house and turned the key in the lock, stepping into not just the first home of our own, but a new chapter of our lives to start an awesome adventure.  In this “new” place (hardly…it was built in the late 1800’s!), we would make endless memories, of which I was certain. After taking a look around for the umpteenth time in all six rooms, sans the one bathroom, we made our way to the front porch and sat together on the 50+ year old glider, complete with bright yellow and green flowers adorning the vinyl cushions. It revealed its age by the few tears in the vinyl along with the squeaking of the springs that probably hadn’t seen a can of WD-40 in many years. I wondered how many people glided back and forth on it over decades passed.

As we glided to and fro, I kept saying, “I can’t believe it’s ours…we FINALLY have our own home.”

This house and all the previous acreage (split up and sold over several generations), was the “homestead” (and once a cow milking farm) of the previous owners for over fifty years.  The thought crossed my mind as to how many people, on how many occasions, sat in the kitchen having dinner, creating memories…all of the holidays that were celebrated here.  Love, loss, happiness, sadness…I thought about it all.

So now, sixteen years later, this house has witnessed two kids grow up, graduate from high school, attend college, make their way into adulthood and recently move out; one lives a few miles away, and the other took a big piece of my heart all the way to Texas.

The quaint front porch is my refuge.  Dave has his man cave, but I happily claimed the porch, sharing YEARS of laughter and tears with my best friend, his brother, who has since passed away.

We’ve had many family holiday dinners here.  This year marks the first without my beloved Dad, but “life is for the living; life goes on”, as he used to say.  Even as things continue to change, things that are beyond our control, we’ll still continue to make new memories in our little house and someday, when Dave and I are gone, I think about some new couple signing their names a hundred times, turning the key in the lock and starting their own new adventures.

Perhaps the future new lady of the house will also claim the front porch, and as she sits in the quiet stillness on a cool summer night she, too, will think about the family who lived here before her and wonder what their story was all about.

It may not be my “dream home”, but it’s what God has blessed us with, and for that, I will always feel humbly blessed!

 

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

 

 

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God – legit – moves mountains!

Matthew 19:26 –  Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”    

 faithcanmovemtnsPhoto cred: Morocco Pens

That’s right, Matthew… I’ve seen the impossible become the possible!  I’ve witnessed, first-hand, what God can do! He moved a mountain that I had been standing at the foot of for so long, craning my neck all the way back to try to see to the top of it, but I never quite could.  It was a mountain that seemingly I created, yet feared.  In my mind’s eye, as I prayed on it… prayed that it would move far away from me, there was a tiny seed of doubt… I prayed on it, but I didn’t really believe that it could be moved.  So it stayed there. And it stayed. And it stayed. I’d pray every day for it to move, but that stupid seed was still there, too, and God knew it.  He tried to encourage me to crush that seed underfoot, but I had trouble hearing Him over the seed’s intent… doubt.

After nearly a year of staring at the foot of that impossible-to-move mountain, I finally heard God’s loving but firm voice say, “Just crush that seed of doubt and watch what happens. Trust me.  Put ALL of your faith in me and what you have believed to be impossible is possible…for me.”  So wearing a fabulous pair of boots, I placed that seed of doubt on the concrete and smashed it with my heel into a million pieces.  I knelt down, bowed my head, closed my eyes and prayed, thanking Him for His eternal love and faithfulness.

When I opened my eyes and stood up, I saw Him off in the distance carrying that mountain far, far away.  God moved that mountain for me as soon as I put all of my faith and trust in Him, and once I did so, I fully expected Him to move it. The moment I crushed that tiny seed of doubt, He blessed me in more ways than I could possibly imagine.

Although faith can move mountains, doubt can create them.  I was so tired of having such a stiff neck looking up at that mountain, I had considered pitching a tent at the foot of it and laying flat on the ground as I suspected that I’d be looking up at it forever.

I thank Him for commanding me to shut up and be still for a minute so that I could actually hear His message… to crush the seed of doubt, to put all of my trust and faith in Him so that He could do his job. After all, He IS God and He’s way better at it than I am!

Psalm 46:10 – “Be still and know that I am God”.

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

 

                     

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Thankful Through The Storm

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Photo Cred:  ACT Emergency Services Agency

The ability to be “thankful” through and during a “storm” can sometimes seem distant, elusive, just out of reach.  When something tragic and sad has happened in your life, how can you possibly be thankful?  Drowning in your sorrow, feeling helpless or hopeless certainly doesn’t leave much room for thankfulness.

Or so I thought…

2017 has been a year of loss and heartache for me.  My beloved father passed away in August and my very best friend (of thirty-eight years) and sister-in-Christ lost her son unexpectedly last week.  Yes… it’s been a year of loss and sorrow.

For the last few weeks and months, I’ve been “wishing away” 2017, chalking it up to one of the “worst years of my life”.  Sadness had overtaken the joy and peace of my salvation and I felt as though my world was crumbling down around me and I with it.

I was driving to a church staff meeting last Wednesday night, having the feelings, yet again, of this terrible, tragic year and there I was, wishing it away again.  All of a sudden, it was as if Jesus was riding shotgun in my truck and he gently, but firmly, gave me a dope slap in the back of the head and then I heard, “Terri, I know that you have been through many trials and tribulations but did you forget that you found me and I saved you this year? That your best friend was also saved and that you were both baptized on the same day? I’ve been with you every step of the way… through it ALL.”  I’m not sure how often Jesus gives out “dope slaps” but this was well-received and I heard Him…loud and clear!

My faith and trust in God is what moves me forward, one step at a time, one day at a time and even one minute at a time, if warranted.

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Photo Cred:  Following My King-Blogger

My faith IS bigger than my fears, my pain, my sorrow.  I continue to keep my eyes on Him, leaning into Him and His Word and knowing that through Him, all things are possible.  Even being thankful through the storm.

With Thanksgiving Day tomorrow, the first without my father, I know that it will be emotional for me and my family.  As we gather around the table, the head of which being either empty or occupied by another family member, the tears will flow as the Thanksgiving dinner blessing is said.  Memories from all the holidays past will significantly impact the holidays of the present and future.  Living in and through this storm, I know that I do have so much to be thankful for, and I’ll pray for those who can’t find their thankfulness during their storms in the hope that they’ll see He is always with them and is always there to reach down and lift them up through their pain and sorrow, pulling them close to Him and giving them comfort and peace.

So let the storms come, let the rain fall hard on my heart because I know His love and light will shine through it all and He’ll help me rise above it.

“When storms are raging in your life, you must grab a hold of The Rock—that is Jesus. He is your refuge, your shelter, the only secure, safe place. He is the bright ray of sunshine in any storm that comes your way.” ~Cathy Irvin/CBN.com

Psalm 107:29 ~ “He made the storm be still, and the waves of the sea were hushed.”

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP

 

 

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The Aftermath: Learning To Live Without Someone You Love

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As the days, weeks and now months have passed since my beloved father died, I’ve been struggling with how to live happily without him.  He was everything to me.  He was the beacon of light on a dark day.  He was the ray of sunshine that burst through the clouds when my mood was dismal.  He was my last phone call of the day.  I made sure that we always had that nightly opportunity to recap our respective day and to exchange, “I love you’s”.  It’s now been sixty-four days since I’ve spoken with or hugged him.  But who’s counting.  Oh, yeah… that’d be me… I’m counting.  Truth-to-tell, I have spoken to him every day since his passing, but naturally, it’s a one-sided conversation.  I miss his voice, but am blessed in having a couple of audio recordings of conversations we had earlier this year.  These weren’t recorded by chance… they were done purposefully, in preparation of when he would inevitably be gone from this world.  There are a few videos, too, but I’m not quite ready to listen to, or watch them, just yet.

This isn’t my first loss of a loved one and surely it won’t be my last.  I’ve been down this road countless times, beginning at age thirteen with the loss of my wonderful “Gramps”, followed by the loss of my brother four years later (and so on, and so forth), and I know I’ll travel it again.  It’s not a straight, bumpless path… it twists, turns and it’s filled with hills, both negligible and steep, with hidden, grass-covered divots, in which I’ll undoubtedly stumble.  I’ve encountered many hills and valleys throughout my life, as many people do, but my Dad was always there… either pushing me up, or pulling me up from those respective hills and valleys.

When he was diagnosed with cancer and subsequently died nine days later, the joy and peace of my salvation promptly made its way to the back burner where it simmered on low for many, many weeks, overshadowed by the enormous loss of him and my grief.

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Photo Cred:  The Gourmand Mom

I was not, and am not, “mad at God” for “taking my father”.  The week before he passed, I got down on my knees and prayed to God to “please not let him suffer” and I distinctly remember saying, “If that means you have to take him next week, Lord, please do.”  Prayers answered.

I clearly thought we had more time; perhaps several weeks or a couple of months, but I’ve come to the realization that if God had not called my Dad home when He did, my fear of him suffering would have become reality, and as much as I miss him, that would have been too much to bear.

In my mind’s eye, and in my heart, I can see that the back burner is empty now.  The flame is gone and instead, the front burner is fully lit on high and my joy and peace are slowly beginning to “bubble away”.  

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Photo Cred:  The Cook’s Info

I knew they would return and even though they might jump to the back burner occasionally, I’m confident in knowing that they will never be gone… they may just need to “simmer” once in a while when not at a full “rolling boil”, for those times when I simply need to acknowledge my loss, my sadness and cry, as I continue to live without someone I loved beyond measure.

Revelation 21:4:  “He will wipe every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Matthew 5:4:  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

 

~Let Love Lead The Way~  TP

 

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In Honor of My Father and All Navy Veterans…

dadnavyMy Beloved Father – Petty Officer 3rd Class / Machinist Mate – 70 Years ago

 

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The U.S.S. Wilkes-Barre
Photo Cred:  http://www.rtcol.com/~oakland/cruisers/indexcruisers.html

 

Happy 242nd Birthday to the Navy! 

The United States Navy observes its birthday every year on October 13th.  The United States Navy (USN) is the naval warfare service branch of the United States Armed Forces and one of the seven uniformed services of the United States. The U.S. Navy is currently the largest, most powerful navy in the world, with the highest combined battle fleet tonnage. The service has over 340,000 personnel on active duty and more than 71,000 in the Navy Reserve.

History:

On October 13, 1775, the Continental Congress authorized the first American naval force.  Thus began the long and prestigious heritage of the United States Navy. Between 1922 and 1972, the Navy’s birthday was celebrated on October 27th, the date of Theodore Roosevelt’s birth. Designated by the Navy League of the United States for Roosevelt’s foresight and vision in elevating the U.S. Navy into a premier force, the celebration of the Navy’s birthday has always been one of pride.  The change to October 13 was seen as a more relevant date in line with the first official action legislating a navy.  Since 1972, October 13 has been the officially recognized date of U.S. Navy’s birth.

A heartfelt “thank you” to all who have served, sacrificed their lives, and those that are currently serving.

 

~Let Love Lead the Way~ TP

 

 

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That Unmistakeable High-Pitched Scream…

 

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Photo cred:  123RF

I was in my kitchen recently, the window over the sink open about ten inches as it was unseasonably warm for a beautiful fall day.  I was making my umpteenth cup of coffee, when all of a sudden I heard a young girl’s high-pitched scream. It seemed to have lasted for about three days, but truth-to-tell, it was probably only ten seconds.  It wasn’t an “I’m in danger and someone’s trying to kidnap me” scream.  It was that high-pitched, girlie scream, most likely the result of a young boy trying to put a spider in her hair, or trying to get her to hold his pet snake.

Whatever the cause of her high-pitched emission, I was immediately brought back to my childhood and in my mind’s eye, I remember a neighborhood boy handing me a clump of something that was covered in sand and he told me to squish it in my hand, in between my fingers.  Never one to back down from a challenge, I did so, only to realize it was cat poop.  All of a sudden, without thought or exertion, my mouth opened and then it happened.  Out of my little girl mouth came that high-pitched screaming and squealing that sent shock waves throughout my relatively quiet neighborhood.  The young boy started laughing and I went from screaming to being infuriated (although I’m sure at the time I had no idea that there was a name for that emotion).  That squished cat poop covered in sand wound up being smeared all over his jacket, a moment that I was very proud of at the time; now, not so much.  But hey, I was just a kid, doing “kid stuff”.

After hearing that girl scream (followed by squealing in delight and laughing), I wondered, “When and why do we lose that?”  When does screaming and squealing in delight leave us because it’s socially unacceptable as an adult?

Can you imagine pushing a grocery cart through a store when all of a sudden you see a spider the size of Rhode Island crawling around on a cantaloupe?  As a seven year old girl, that high-pitched scream would cause the soup cans to fall off the shelves, but as an adult, you’d gulp that scream down, jump on the back of the cart, downshift into second gear and high-tail it out of the produce section.

George Bernard Shaw said, “Youth is wasted on the young“.  How true that is.  I’m not sure that children are aware of how lucky they are in being able to scream and squeal as necessary.  I’m envious.  Sometimes, I don’t want to “adult”… I want to be a carefree kid, running and playing and not having a care in the world.  I’m trying to remember the last time I “girlie-screamed”, and the sound I now make as it relates to “critters”, more reminiscent of a fire truck barreling down the street with its siren on…. “Woooooo OOOOOO Woooooo”, doesn’t count.

I don’t think my adult vocal chords could produce a high-pitched scream like I heard from that girl the other day.  Lord knows I’d like to give it a try, but at my age, it would most likely cause no less than four squad cars, a fire truck and an ambulance’s arrival at my door step.

So young kids out there…enjoy your childhood and go ahead and scream and squeal like there’s no tomorrow because someday, you’ll grow up and society and your vocal chords will preclude you from doing so.

 

~Let Love Lead The Way~ TP