Follow your bliss. If you do follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while waiting for you, and the life you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in the field of your bliss, and they open the doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be. If you follow your bliss, doors will open for you that wouldn't have opened for anyone else.

Joseph Campbell

The Heart Waits


Whether you tend a garden or not, you are the gardener of your own being, the seed of your destiny. - The Findhorn Community

As a child, it was the “inner knowing” that provided an understanding that I needed to live the life set before me. A year had passed since that eventful day on my swing when another happening showed itself. Again, I was unaware of its meaning, and it would be two more decades before I understood its purpose.

The sun had just dropped over the horizon, and my two little brothers ran out of the house with a canning jar and lid in their little hands. This was one of our favorite times in the summer because the fireflies flittered and lit the dark breathing space. It was a magical time, which we needed in our little lives then. Most evenings, you would find us standing on the front lawn waiting for nightfall. After we had filled our jars, we would sit close to each other and peer into the jars counting to see who had caught the most. Nonetheless, what thrilled us most was removing the lids and releasing the small swarms of lightning bugs into the darkness . . . it was magical.

Before starting our ritual that evening, I had plopped down next to the Crepe Myrtle tree on the Bermuda lawn. Looking up at the full moon rising, I began daydreaming of a different life. As I glanced at our house, I instinctively knew our family was abnormal.

Lost in my thoughts, the sound of car tires driving on the gravel road caught my attention. I turned and to my surprise, the car turned onto our driveway. No one ever came to our house. Two men climbed out of the car smiling and asked if our parents were home. Terrified, my brothers and I ran to the house calling Daddy. He came from the back of the house still in his work clothes. I do not think he ever wore anything other than those old khaki work clothes.

Before Daddy could say a word, the two men were standing outside the screen door and introduced themselves. They asked to come in, so Daddy opened the screen. Daddy looked as shocked as we did. He did not ask them to sit down, which I now know Daddy was lacking in good manners. One of the men said they were visiting our neighborhood and wondered if we would like to attend Vacation Bible School. I had no idea what kind of school he was talking about, but as he explained the activities, he grabbed my attention. So far, the summer had been boring, and I thought this might be fun, making crafts.

Daddy looked down at us and said the decision was up to us. My two little brothers took their cue from me when I shook my head yes and shook theirs as well. One of the men left pamphlets about their church, Calvary Baptist Church. It was only a few blocks from our house, within walking distance.

We peered out the screen door as little recluses until they were gone, and then we ran out into the nightair to catch our bounty.

Once the day arrived, I was reluctant, but I gathered up my little brothers anyhow, and we began our walk to the Church that summer morning. I did not know what Church meant, nor had I heard the word in our home so we were in for a surprise, especially me. As it turned out, it was boring – very much like school. However, my brothers and I stuck it out, since we had nothing better to do that summer.

On the last day, a man entered my Sunday school room. He looked around the room, and asked if there was anyone that wanted to be baptized to raise their hands. Most everyone raised his or her hand, so I raised mine. Ten years old, and I had no idea what baptism meant. Furthermore, I did not understand anything our teacher taught us . . . a God and Jesus. The teacher said if we took Jesus into our heart, He would forgive us of our sins. I, of course, wondered, what is sin. I was totally mystified because I could not comprehend our teacher's stories. However, there was one thing she taught that stuck in my mind, the power of prayer. I learned a little of how to pray by listening and watching with one eye open.

After the last day of class, as my brothers and I walked home, I told them I was going to be baptized. They, too, asked what it meant, so I repeated what the teacher told me. They, too, looked puzzled and shrugged their shoulders. The minute we walked into our house, I announced to Daddy that I was going to be baptized. Daddy did not say a word. He just turned and went about his business. Where was Mama? I do not remember her being there . . . .

The day had arrived, Sunday morning. I put on my nicest sundress and got my brothers dressed. I do not remember our parents sending us off that morning. I only remember traipsing out the front door with my two little brothers following me. Once we got there, we walked up the steps and into the doublewide large front door of the Church for the first time, as before we entered through the back entrance. They followed me down the aisle all the way to the front row and we sat down.

A lot of things happened that morning worth telling, but the most important event came towards the end – my baptism. The pastor called all those up who were to be baptized. There was a long line, so I could no longer see the preacher. The only thing I noticed was that everyone who went up to the platform came back down the stairs “wet.” By now, I was getting nervous and began to question whether I really wanted to go through with this baptism. I was about to make a mad dash through the side door, when a woman motioned to take my turn. I was trembling, but I never let on as the preacher motioned me to join him in what look like a swimming pool. I knew then, it was an event I would have to wing. He motioned me to walk down the steps into the water. Carefully walking down the steps, I had to hold my dress down since it was rising above my head. The pastor took my hand and the other hand he placed on the back of my head. He repeated the same thing he had to the other kids (today, I know it as “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Mark 1:4 (NIV).

Afterwards, I walked out with my sundress dripping with water, where my brothers were waiting for me. They looked at me curiously and asked if I was okay. I nodded my head yes. Then they started pointing fingers at me, making fun of how funny I looked.

That night, while in bed and the house still, I prayed, “God please give me new parents.”

I attended Calvary Baptist Church several times that summer, but when school started, I stopped. I had been praying all summer, and God/Jesus did not answer my prayers. It would be many years before I would learn that God works in mysterious ways, and beyond the understanding of a child.

Little did I know that He would answer my prayers, but in His timing. The lightning bugs captured in quart jars and released coupled with my baptism that Sunday morning were symbolic of freedom. I had been released from the old and now a new creature in Christ. Too much for child's mind to comprehend; especially in my circumstances.


I leave you with two quotes.

"Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life." Simone Weil

"There is nothing instant or automatic in spiritual development." Allan Jones

4 comments:

the wild magnolia said...

Ah...the firefly's and the nightly freedom ritual. I have a history with the firefly myself.

The knowing of life, the knowing early, that something significant has happened. The inner awareness. It was something I did not possess. I was a dreamer. My head was in the clouds.

The story of a life is a wonder of itself. I've enjoyed the beginnings of your childhood
story, very much!

I don't know why your blog doesn't show up on my following blogs. It's lucky I decided to bop over here for a look see....

Happy day, Happy evening!

Bonnie said...

Thank you Sandi for visiting and your lovely comments.

I will be sharing a series of essays about my childhood, adolescent,(teen yrs) young and middle-aged adulthood, up to the present. These are only essays. I have actually written memoirs on each, which each are 2-300 pgs.

A publisher friend suggested I post a few on a blog??? I am an apprentice writer, so possibly another way of getting my work out there since I don't want to publish.

Look forward to seeing you soon.

Anonymous said...

I have just discovered your blog and am enjoying reading your work. You are just a little older than I but there is some identification and sharing of experience. Many blessings and thank you.

kerrdelune said...

Lovely words, my friend!

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