June 4, 2019
These voices from my past are calling me.
They’re not really voices and they are not really calling me. But I feel like this is so! I’m living in this dream world. I don’t know when I will wake up.
I go about my day; working my hands, whether it’s elbow deep in dish water or soil from our garden, my arms wrapped around my husband, my chest heaving from jump rope, my mouth speaking words from a book to my daughter, my brain stops me. This is so.
A word, the way the sun came in the window, a familiar smell, all point me back to my life as child. Is this how it all goes down? Is this early signs of dementia? Or am I just losing my mind.
I read a word today on a friend’s Instagram post. Immediately, like fire my brain raced me back there. I’m a young girl, about 8 or so and I’m in the garage at my parents house with my sisters. I can feel the California heat on my tan skin. I’m wearing a tank top and there’s ice water in my mom’s tall, glass cups. The ones that have beveled designs on them like the kind jelly jars do. I feel the cold bumps across my fingers.
But no. I’m not there. I’m here. It’s after 10 pm and I’m flipping through my phone to pass the time. I remember the song that was played in the garage with my sisters and I look it up on YouTube for fun.
It’s Amy Grant’s Lead Me On.
I listen to the words. Was I meant to hear this song right now? Am I thinking too much? What is she trying to say? Why do these memories of my past track me down like a hound and rabbit?
I’m 39 years old. Amy Grant, Keith Green and books like Hinds Feet on High Places still find me. They connect me to strange acquaintances; dreams, new friends, scripture....
I don’t know, am I thinking too much?
Fire in the field
Underneath a blazing sun
But soon the sun was faded
And freedom was a song
I heard them singing when the day was done
Singing to the holy One.Lead me on
Lead me on
To a place where the river runs
Into your keeping, oh.Lead me on
Lead me on
The awaited deliverance
Comforts the seeking, lead on.