However, on one particular occasion things weredifferent. My spirit was extremely agitated. My mind was not focused withmatters of my city, instead a much deeper burden shouted in the corridors of myheart and spirit.
I needed to ventilate, and there was a volcano brewing withinme, that was about to explode ...
toward the Almighty. I paced back and forth on that hill wondering how toaddress God with this fire burning inside, till finally I could hold it no moreand I shouted, “God I’m so angry with her!” Her. That’s our daughter.
The oldest of our two girls.Memories of this beautiful young girl flooded my mind. This young girl who’sgorgeous curly locks earned her the nickname, “Scally Wag”.
This vibrant,colourful, ball of energy who lit up the room when she entered, and a loudextravert who was always heard before she was seen. This was ‘Her’, ourbeautiful little girl. Although she wasn’t so young anymore, she was now 15, andshe was exercising her sovereignty (her God-given freedom to choose) andexercising it in all its fullness.
Those with teenagers and those who have hadteenagers are either nodding their heads or smiling right now, with empathy. I found myself falling for the illusion that I neededto control her behaviour. I was blinded by my own insecurities of what otherswould think, due to my role in the church.
I was a Pastor, and my daughter wasbeing a rebel, and she was good at it too! I felt the shame ...
boy did I feelthe shame – but that’s a st.
