I have one friend who I have known since we were born. Well, since she was born...I arrived a month ahead of her. I have another friend who I have known since we were about three years old. And another friend who I have known since I was five or so.
It is without a doubt a blessing to have people in your life who have traveled that long and far with you.
It is also a curse since they remember every hairstyle, every boyfriend, every fashion incident, and no matter how much you think you've got it together, you always know there are a handful of people in the world who know beyond a shadow of a doubt that underneath it all you are really a great big weirdo.
I love that.
In beginning my quest for TRUST, I have been trying to conjure up times in my life where I remember feeling completely and utterly at peace. Times when I felt so completely safe that I wasn't giving a second thought as to whether what I was doing was right, or wrong, or acceptable, or enough. Times when the world's gifts and my intentions all aligned and together we glimpsed...paradise.
As unlikely as it might seem, one fuzzy memory that keeps popping up for me involves these two cherubs right here.
 |
| My buddy Christie and me. |
Don't those two little nuggets look just chock full of sugar and spice?
Mother of Pearl...don't let them fool you.
One day, when we were about exactly the age of this picture here....(so, babies, basically) we had a sleepover at my friend Christie's house. I have no recollection as to why since it seems to me we were kind of young for sleepovers, but our moms did a lot of swapping of childcare and babysitting, so who knows what lead to such an exciting adventure for two little friends.
You would think the sleepover would have been adventure enough.
But, no, in the wee hours of the morning, long before anyone else in the house was stirring, Christie and I woke up and made our way to the family room. Looking out the big glass doors, we noticed it had rained in the night. In fact, it had rained a lot in the night.
As we peered outside we could see large puddles covering the ground and water pouring from gutters.
It was like the world had become a magical land of waterfalls and wading pools perfectly sized for two pint sized fairies.
So, what else were we to do but to go exploring?
We. Left. The. House.
I'm sure we started out in Christie's own front yard but at some point we ventured down the street to where it took a slight dip and a large amount of water had accumulated. It probably wasn't all that much water really, but to us it felt like a swimming pool.
A swimming pool that was in the middle of the street.
In our pajamas we waded in that oversized puddle, splashed in it, stomped and danced.
I don't remember feeling cold. I don't remember feeling afraid. I don't remember feeling at all that we were doing something naughty or dangerous.
We felt glorious.
Eventually, it probably did start to get cold so we made our way back to her house but we couldn't let the opportunity to shower in a waterfall pass us by, so we finished up by standing underneath the downspout "washing" our hair and making sure that not one square inch of our little bodies remained dry.
It was at this point we were finally discovered.
You can imagine that Christie's mother was not nearly so enchanted by our Wonderful World of Water. Or the fact that two tiny girls were wandering around in the street at dawn.
I clearly remember seeing her mouth moving and arms waving as she rushed us inside and thinking, "What's wrong?!"
I know Christie thought the same thing because she and I have remembered and retold and regaled each other with this memory over and over for the past 40+ years.
As mothers now, we find it equal parts horrifying and hilarious, but in general the hilarity wins out.
But in all the times I have recalled this story, I've never thought about it in terms of TRUST before.
Without question though, that's what we felt.
We trusted the world was safe.
We trusted each other.
We trusted our intuition and our instincts.
We trusted ourselves.
We trusted that when we were ready to go back home, it would be there.
And maybe, there was a small part of us deep down that knew we might get in a little bit of trouble for this...but we also had complete trust that we would be loved anyway.
It's never a surprise to me that Jesus says if we really want to enter the Kingdom of Heaven we have to become like children.
Dancing in the rain doesn't hurt either.
