My Language to Yours

Thursday, December 27, 2018

A Kid's Good Intentions Gone Awry

Hey, y'all! I'm back!

Unfortunately, my notebook was on the fritz, though I attempted numerous times to get a writin' while becomin' nerve-wracked. HOWEVER, Santa (my daughter) was generous this Christmas, and I'm oh so happy to try jumpin' on the band-wagon, again. Insert humble bow and gracious smile here.
I'm sorry that I've missed the opportunity to chat 'bout those things that'd come to me durin' my time unable to blog, and the holiday season has come to a close. I think I'll get back on the horse by lettin' y'all know a li'l bit 'bout myself as an ever growin', wild minded child in the palmetto state.

I'm sure there are few and far between like minded children as I was when it came to animals. Except for the sly serpent that I've always loathed as the spawn of Satan, there weren't many I'd not like to cuddle. I went way beyond that point even.

I'd search high and low for anything I thought I could get away with regardin' my parents most certain "NO"s, from itty bitty ants to rascally rabbits and the puppies and kitties of other kids I'd wished to have. Not only would I try to pocket them and slide my way through the house, I'd create us our own li'l world as I'd try to build our lives 'round each other.

Perhaps I was a lonely kid, or I just couldn't grasp what was so different 'bout our worlds or why it had to be. I look back and question why I felt that "I" had to become their Maker, since I knew full well the Creation story. I loved the story of Noah's ark, though, so perhaps I thought I'd do just the same. And, the idea came to me...

...I'd build them houses, too. I'd fashioned some good designs, too..out of any and everything from the natural and not so natural, but things that in the end would be thrown away. It was always a sad time, sayin' goodbye. I realize now that while I thought I was helpin', they'd inevitably more than likely meet their demise 'cause of my actions and need to play God. But, all the while, each time, I'd go 'bout singin' my li'l songs hopin' they'd be my friends as long as they'd lemme play follow the leader.

I remember the baby frogs that I'd found in the dip of my banana seat on my upside down bike under the carport. I'd go trampin' through the ditches to "rescue" tadpoles and scale its sides to yank the tail of a lizard right up. Y'all ever know anyone to clamp a chameleon's mouth on their ears? That's the type of crazy I was. Oh, and for some reason, I thought I was cool to pick a fresh cicada shell off the bark of our pine trees. I dunno why I thought it'd ever come back, but...LOL...I'd make grass huts for ants, stick houses for bugs. I'd even cought a country mouse or 2 and set out to keep 'em in a HOUSE I'd make outta shoe boxes. Oh yeah. I got very creative, addin' windows and doors and fences and colorful stuff with crayons and markers. I'd play with them as if it were a princess' tea party.The fun never lasted. I couldn't keep them forever, and only as I've grown did I understand the depth and scope of why. Even if I could've kept them alive with more than water and grass and dirt, the houses I'd built them weren't substantial enough, but rickety and without good foundation even though I'd also used stones.

I wasn't worthy of my praises bein' sung from their eyes, though. I didn't bring them life. They weren't livin' for me. While my eyes beheld their wonder, they couldn't understand my heart. In their world, the laws of nature prevailed, not I as their Queen. I was expectin' to bring them what I thought to be their best life, not realizin' that ain't how it's supposed to work.

Just like the time my best friend, R.A., and I tried to do a good deed upon an animal I felt was so very much in need of my savin'. Only, our helpin' just got it in more trouble. See, I was tried of seein' this li'l doggy get abused and be neglected by our neighbor. Upon seein' him chained and dirty one summer eve, we snuck over to unhook him from his lead and brought him under our back faucet to bathe him. I knew that we had to put him back, which I did, but I heard the sound of his li'l howlish shriek not long after, and my own bum was gettin' fussed at. As much as I'd wished, we couldn't be in control. I've learned that, the hard way, more than once. I guess, for some reason, I thought that by us singin' hymns of worship, it'd all be fine and we'd be well.

I know my parents understood my heart. O, my Daddy tried to teach me the meanings of life in times of my distress at, say, the rabbits the cats would drop off on the back porch or the dyin' bloody mouse they'd plop in the front door. I always wanted to keep the rabbits, but thy were "wild" he'd told me. Even the stray cat shouldn't have to be ours, but she was pregnant with her li'l kitty babies and I felt like she was Mary come to stay at the inn, LOL. I'd also learned from that endin' that we must all share in the joy of love that they can bring us, as they'd have to be given to others and not just kept to ourselves. But, I slowly learned on those walks into the woods and those days I'd wake to find my "pets" GONE(in both ways), that their lives were God's. Was I tryin' to do right by Him? Sure. But, I couldn't play Master of their Kingdom.

It reminds me that we cannot dictate, intrusively, the lives of others and must understand that we're also under this rule of thumb. There's only one Creator who's made us, built us our place on this earth. Only He's worthy of our song of praise, for He's given us the breath of life. He fills our eyes with wonder at His sight.

Many of us can't fathom that, but I know in some stage of our lives that He'll meet us where we're at and fill our hearts. He's the only Master of our kingdom, to lead us in love upon the rock where there's a firm foundation that won't be shaken. There's gotta be a trust between us for that to occur, but openin' that door to let Him build within us and for us and 'round us the life He's had planned all along is the goal. We've to hope He breaks our chains and cleanses us.

Copyright December 27th 2018 owned by C.L. Chapps

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