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Little Rebecca at God's Precious Well

Updated on November 11, 2022
The Stages Of ME profile image

Our life stages are unique. Kathy enjoys sharing her thoughts and stages through her writing and looks forward to learning about yours.

Rebecca stood on the brink of the shore, her fists clenched as if to make a statement. She had run ahead in a purposeful, independent sprint, eager to get there in time to make her wish.

She was twelve going on thirty, her ponytail blowing with its youthful frolic just to the side of her sweet, determined expression filled her face. The sun was bidding its final farewell, at least for this last day of her family vacation.

This little girl had quite a week of playing in the sand. She threw her developing little body into the crashing waves like a dolphin as she whisked herself into the rhythm of the ocean.

Earlier in the week, the mother watched her little girl from under the umbrella in awe of the beautiful dance unwinding before her. She seemed to float atop the wave crest like a ballerina. Then, in the next minute, she would flail with her childlike giggle.

She was on the cusp of becoming a young woman. It was clear in the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves as they gently and, forcefully moved her back to the safety of the shore.

Rebecca was an adventurous little soul with a loving and serving heart. Like so many her age, she desired to make a difference in the world. She wanted to slow down while simultaneously eager to break free like a little lioness ready to explore independently.

She was an active little thing and happy, mostly. However, she had a silent battle all her own, and no one could understand her quiet fears completely. Because of circumstances out of her control, she was a concerned little girl. Her mind attempted to process things beyond her emotional age. She struggled with the why and the why not’s like we all do. She needed to figure things out for herself, and she would do just that. She would put her little hands over her ears and shout la, la, la, la, la, meaning, I can do it, give me a minute, I will get it, or stop, I don’t want to hear that.

From the age of eight, she tried to grasp an understanding of why mommies had to get sick. She found it frustrating, which made her mad, as the situation would sometimes steal precious moments from her childhood. She wanted to change the outcome and yet felt powerless. She missed her mom having the energy to jump and run with her. Rebecca ponders the strength her mommy had just a few short years before.

Rebecca would share disappointment and yet gracious beyond her years, not too shabby for a girl with a preteen brain and all that comes with the usual hormonal confusion.

She often talked about wanting those times back, as did her mom. They learned to compensate and use the nickels God gave them daily. They respected the balance. However, they desired just a few more energy nickels to spend, even more so on the special days. They also realized sometimes the slow or downtimes gave them points of connection that in themselves were so extraordinary and vital, times they may not have had if in the fast lane.

In her little body, things were stirring, much like the tiny ripples of the sea. She was now standing ankle-deep at the water’s edge. She held firm with beautiful defiance in her stance to claim her moment. Little did she know her new sneakers would not recover as well from her decision to jump right into her beautiful experience. Her mom looked on with a quiet smile in her heart, as she loved seeing the bold action her little one was making with this proclamation while also knowing the meltdown that would follow when she discovered her favorite new sneaks would not recover as well from their seepage into the sea.

She spoke openly yet quietly under her breath, so no one was in earshot of her conversation with Him. She looked straight ahead into the setting sun as if she were looking directly into the face of God. The minutes passed slowly as her mother watched from the side. She saw her lips moving up and down; she could even see the animation in her story, but there was no clear account of what they said; she kept that to herself.

Oh, to see the wonderment of her growing up right before your eyes. To see a little one take ownership of a called purpose in God’s perfect plan.

She changed that day. She was now on her way to her journey and her glorious destiny. She would, in the years, come to realize the valleys and peaks were necessary, to get her where she was supposed to be. She would understand the reasons for the seasons in her life, growing less afraid of the confusing times and basking in the armor's joy that helps her to crash the waves.

Maybe she introduced herself to God that day? Knowing God already knew her, but now she was ready to know Him, and her mother found this newfound confidence beautiful, but to see her do it in her way, was like witnessing a baptism in His creation, His palette, a little girl, and her Jesus also, perfect than that?

© 2014 Kathy Henderson


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