In our last newsletter we introduced Jane to you. We were planning to share certain aspects of her progress; however, we felt impressed to share a dialogue between her and God. With her permission we present to you the following:
Dear God
Jane: God, I am grateful that you are interested in me enough to read this letter I am writing you. I was recently asked, “How did you feel about God at age ten?” Thinking about that made me sad. Sad for me and sad for you in some sort of strange way. At that age I was learning things about you and also learning how I should feel about you. Looking back, I saw myself as small and insignificant and you were bigger than life; yet, so busy helping important people. Thank you that now I am able to see you differently.
God: Jane, remember when you were nine and fractured your wrist while jumping out of a swing? You were at Merritt Park. It was early Saturday morning, you and your mom were the only ones in the park. Your mom was on the walking trail while you were all alone swinging. Remember how you pretended to fly while swinging? I loved watching you swing! You were so free, so alive, lighter than air… Then you were so caught up in the moment, you let go, and flew until gravity took its toll. Then you took a hard fall. The breath was knocked out of you and you couldn’t cry for help. Then a lady appeared out of nowhere, picked you up, comforted you and sat you on a picnic table. She found your mom and calmly explained to her the situation. By the time your mom reached the picnic table your wrist was in a cooler of ice and your ribs were wrapped with bed sheet strips. The lady helped you in the car and your mom rushed you to urgent care. Remember?
Jane: I do remember. Actually, what I remember is my mom being so angry at me for being reckless.
She missed her doubles tennis match that day. They had to forfeit and missed their shot at the city championship that year. The next year she and her team won the championship.
God: Is that all you remember?
Jane: I also remember Mom being amazed at how that lady knew my wrist was only fractured, ribs were only bruised, not broken or fractured and that she had a small cooler of ice and bed sheet strips handy. There was no car in the parking lot. It was a blur to me, but it really messed with my mom.
God: So what was your take-away from that event?
Jane: That I’m careless and stupid. My carelessness can be costly and burdensome, especially to others.
My childish, careless act cost my mom the city championship.
God: Can we reframe this event?
Jane: I’m not sure what you mean.
God: Are you open to a different perspective?
Jane: I guess so…
God: Jane, you were so hard on yourself back then and still are. Do you remember what the lady said to you as she carried you to the picnic table?
Jane: I’m not sure. I can’t remember.
God: Sure you can… Take a deep breath, close your eyes, picture her face and remember.
Jane: Her face is a blur; yet, her voice is so kind and soft. Her embrace was so loving, and accepting.
She said, “I love watching you swing. I love watching you fly. I love you. You will fly again…”
God: When you were ten you were right about me.
Jane: How so?
God: I am bigger than life! And I’m busy helping important people. That lady at the playground was me and you were and are that important person! I have never lost sight of you, I see you now!
Jane: What happened to the little girl who loved to swing?
Jane: I lost my desire to… I have not been on a swing since that day when I was nine. Will you help me in my unbelief? Will you help me dream again?
God: That lost desire to dream was never completely lost, it resides within me. I gift you with it today simply because I love watching you fly. I love you. You will fly again…This time, we will do it together!
Is there a painful memory in your childhood? A memory that still hurts today; one you would like to forget? Is it possible God was there and saw it differently? Today, Jane has a new favorite memory, a bigger hope, a rebirthed dream and an ongoing story redefined.
Can you by faith see God as bigger than life, desiring to gift you with a new favorite memory, offering a bigger hope, and a rebirthed dream while redefining your story?