"A Prophet Like Me"

Here we are again, counting down the days (hours even) until the May birthdays add another year to our personal history. My firstborn is turning 6! My wee baby will be 3. There is something about being 5 and under that seems ok. You still get in lots of places for free or reduced price. Five is still the number of fingers on only one hand. You can still pay for something with one piece of paper (a $5 bill). Some 5 year olds aren't even in Kindergarten yet. I can still say "She's only 5" when I want to stand back and give her grace in a certain emotional meltdown, or other unpleasant behavior. But 6?? Then she'll be too old for the Indoor Playground at gymnastics. Now I'll need two hands to count her age. I have to say: "You're 6, so GROW UP ALREADY!" Meanwhile, Henry can't even say the word "three" correctly, so I have some time left before he heads off to college.

So while I relish a few more days of having VERY YOUNG CHILDREN, I remembered a story I never published. I had emailed the story to a friend, back on Feb 12, so some of the details have been kept intact. Tonight, I was reading a new friend's blog, and the topic of spiritually sensitive children made a post. Hers was a beautiful, life giving story, told thru the eyes of her then 7 year old daughter. It reminded me that Lucy has had some interesting voices in her life. So many have been reminders of fear, as she perseverates on the spooky and the mysterious that she encounters. Yet, every now and then, her dreams give her joy.

Tim's friend David has a creative writing degree, and uses words and stories in his career and in his playful times with my kids that stirs up their imaginations to giddy delight. He had sent me a children's story (with spiritual allegory) that he had written, asking for critique, and I was reading it outloud to Lucy. As Lucy was munching on her bagel she says "oh Mommy. I think Uncle David is going to be a prophet like me"!!!

Back story. The other night she had a dream that God sent a ring to her. That's all the context we have. She was telling us this dream the next night. And with great delight she told us that this dream was a message. "Mommy I think this dream means God wants me to be a .... What's that P word?" (She originally alluded to being a messenger". When I guessed "prophet?" She, in full confidence, said "YES!! Oh mommy I just can't believe God is choosing me to be his prophet!!" Tim was there too (it was bedtime lights out) and I was trying to guide the conversation without giving any opinions. I asked if they had just read about prophets (Tim reads the bible to her every night) and they both said no. Anyway for several minutes she lay there still, just soaking this in and proclaiming every few minutes things like "I wonder where God wants me to be his prophet." "I just can't believe that God is asking me to be His prophet!!" I tried to bring a little doubt to this and said "well, over time God will make it clear what He's asking of you. The best thing you can do from now until then is just learn as much as you can about God and get close to him by praying and asking him to show you more of himself."

Several minutes later she said "Mommy I wrote a poem.

God has plans for us wherever we go
in sprinklings of rain and in deep drifts of snow

Please send that to Gramma and Grampa." Then she rolled over and almost instantly went to sleep.

This was taken the next day, as she took to copying Bible passages.

I remember in hindsight, that she was so happy for several days in a row. She had dreams, she asked questions. It turns out that perhaps "missionary" was actually the word that she meant. Which is still fairly prophetic. Then she started having doubts. She told me one night "I guess I'm not supposed to be a prophet after all. I asked God to prove that he still wanted me to be a prophet by asking Him to make my room all polka dots. As you can see my room is not all polka dots, so I guess I was wrong."

Whoa. Obviously I jumped on that, about that not being a fair test, and tried to explain that while God does miracles, He's not a magician! making your room polka-dotted out of nowhere would be magic, not a miracle. We don't need God to do magic, when He does miracles every day. She seemed to understand that, and yet it seemed like a bit of her joy and the "christmas-like faith" slipped away. Along with her vision of Mission (or prophet) work. I'll have to ask her about it tomorrow. See if she remembers it, or has any thoughts on that.