Little Rebecca at God's Precious Well
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 anxious 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 the 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. At times 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 so evident in the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves as they gently, and at times forcefully moved her back to the safety of the shore.
Rebecca was an adventurous little soul with a loving and serving heart. She, like so many her age, had desired to make a difference in the world. She was at the point of wanting to be held tightly while at the same time eager to break free like a little lioness ready to explore on her own.
She was an active little thing and happy, for the most part, however, she had a silent battle all her own, and no one could understand her quiet fears completely. Due to circumstances out of her control, she was a concerned little girl. Even so, 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. At times 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 mommy’s had to get sick. She was frustrated, and this made her mad, as the situation would, at times 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 was disappointed 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 had learned to compensate and use the nickels God gave them to use each day. They respected the balance. However, they were sadly left wanting 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 small 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 appeared to pass by 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 was 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 where necessary, to get her where she was supposed to be. She would begin to understand the reasons for the seasons in her life, growing less afraid of the confusing times and basking in the joy of the armor 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, what is more, perfect than that?
Others who took Annart's challenge
- A Blissful Embrace
This is a response to a challenge to write something on Ann's painting. I have tried my bit.
- Tears Across the Waves
This short story is in response to a hub challenge by annart to write a story based on her painting of Burnham Beach.
- The Story of Mercy: Ann's Challenge
The story of a remarkable young woman. Some of you may know her. Some of you will meet her soon.
© 2014 Kathy Henderson