A Powerful Prayer

     My Aunt Bea played a huge role in my life as a child.  She had me come visit during the summer months, and I always looked forward them.  She lived in western Wyoming, where the deer and the antelope play.  (couldn't help myself..lol)   This part of Wyoming was better than a breath of fresh air as sage brush posed to be the ground cover in most area's.  Aunt Bea worked at teaching me things a young lady should know.  How to say simple words such as "please" and "thank-you" were always my first lesson.  In summer's past, I'd feel frustrated when she'd call me to higher standard, but this summer seemed different.   This summer seemed I had adjusted to her expectations of me; maybe I was more grown up and aware of the simple things I needed in my life.  All the same, my adjustment to being with my Aunt didn't appear as difficult as it did in years past.
     Now that I was Twelve, Aunt Bea lined up more responsible activities for me.  One of the weeks I served as a gofer girl for Vacation Bible School.  What a wonderful time I had helping the younger children with crafts and games.  The Baptist church had an entire crew of young adults come from abroad and serve in the community.  This particular group of people would be the very ones God used to reach out to me.  One young gal shared a testimony of her life.  Her story was so moving and relateable,  tears began to well up and take over my composure.  Her testimony, along with many others, followed me home that afternoon.

  

      As I sat on the grass outside my Aunts home, I looked up into the sky I was so familiar with.  My heart was heavy, my thoughts were racing as visions of my sorrow and pain came rushing to the forefront of my mind.  A river of tears poured down my face as I realized how angry I had become.  Trying to regain composure, I wiped my face; when suddenly I noticed the cotton ball clouds similar to the ones I'd seen as a tiny child.  My heart heard a consoling whisper and in that moment I surrendered my heart to my Lord Jesus Christ.  He shed His blood for my sins, for my hardened heart I had grown accustomed to in such a short time.  A warm gentle wind blew through my hair as I prayed about my hurts and pains I had experienced.  God determined that moment for me when I would hear His voice so clearly in my heart.  He made my painful paths lead me right to this moment and into His arms of Love.
     Whose to say where my heart would have been without my previous experiences?  I don't believe those who hurt me gave much thought of the effects their influence would have on me.  Do any of us really set out to purposefully hurt others?  My heart holds onto hope that is not the case.
     God has given us all free will to choose and make decisions for ourselves.  I can't say I grasped the meaning of forgiveness from my simple yet sincere prayer.  Life unfolds and I face forgiveness constantly.  His word isn't one that promises us a life without hurt and pain.  His word promises He lived and felt the very pains our sin caused Him and He loves us all the same.
     This summer was not long after Tipsey had died, it was my last summer I would spend with Aunt Bea.  This particular summer was the summer my life would change forever and a new journey would begin.