Today is also Five-minute-Friday and will be linking up there as well.
To read other FMF, click here.
What comes to mind when you think of the word, “WHO”?
Kate said "Choosing to tell your story is simply one more way you can bring glory to God,
by telling of His works and goodness and grace in your life."
Timer set.
Ready...go!
Who told me I wasn't good enough?
He said, “Who told you that you were naked?"
That answers that question!
For way too long, I allowed others comments of me define who I am.
After all, who am I to doubt what I am being told as a child.
We were taught to listen to our elders.
To obey our elders.
To show our elder's respect.
And most of all, "Don't talk back!"
Sometimes when I would, because what they said just didn't make sense,
their next words were, "Who do you think you are, talking back to me!"
The tone would send chills down my spine.
I dare not answer again as I remember the sting on
my cheek (my bottom) or like a dagger that would pierce my heart forever.
I become quiet as I am told, but they could never quiet my mind!
I wonder when they learned that when this little girl was told to be quiet, I was listening. Or did they ever learn?
I had learned at the Catholic School I attended or the
other churches I 'played' at, was that God listened to everyone.
God LOVED everyone. Even me!
Who I was at home, was not who I was at school, my dance class, at 4-H, or those forbidden Bible Studies I called playing when asked what I was doing.
I was different. For Him, I wanted to be great at whatever I did,
not for their glory or joy, but for His!
Who I was then was a young girl searching for the God
she was learning so much about.
He was the same God in school as He was at those churches.
I listened to those words.
Until one day, I used their words against them.
I tried to stand up when those other words had contradicted what I heard or learned.
The belt was coming!
I knew it was going to hurt!
This time, I grabbed that belt, and stopped it!
The shock of my fathers face should have brought fear to me, but I had found new courage. God! It was the last time my father ever threatened me with the belt again.
Who that little girl was then, would grow stronger until...
Times up...stop!
Who I am now, is because of who I was then.
This post is also part of the 31-Day of Five Minute Free Writes challenge link-up.
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