The Tearing of the Soul of a Rebellious Wo-Man

 July 19th 2022

Journal Entry # 1

A truthful witness does not deceive, but a false witness pours out lies. (Proverbs 14:5)

The Tearing of the Soul of a Rebellious Wo-Man

As a child growing up in the West Indies I lived in a world I did not understand. I had no perspective or frame of reference that I could have stood on and not collapsed. My life was one giant failure in every way. I have placed most of those years in the deepest recesses of my mind. However, sometimes we may have to reach into those dark places or secret places to help someone who maybe walking out the same things or a version of it. As children of God we all have our own testimony or our own battle stories on how God in His infinite mercy delivered us. The word testimony was derived from the word martys, meaning witness. It is one who "through dying bears witness to one's faith in God." It also means that each one of us can testify of Jesus's saving work among unbelievers with the hope they too will repent and be saved. This story I am about to recount might take different twists and turns but it is my testimony from my perspective.

I can vividly recall the yellow dress I wore that day. It was a dress I once wore to church on Sundays. Now it was soiled and dirty with debris from the pond. I was drenched with this muddy water and I was shaken to my core. School was out and it was a hot and humid day. All the children in the neighborhood were either at home or running toward the train bearing the sweet nectar of the sugarcane loaded on wagons behind the locomotive. I decided to run with those going to get some of the sugarcane off the wagons as the train traversed along the tracks. Unfortunately, as I was gearing to jump over the pond my eight year self missed and fell into the murky, muddy pond. I could not swim even if my life depended on it; so I struggled to get from beneath the water but I felt myself going deeper and I could not breathe. Was this how my life would end in the shadow of this dark place? Was this to be my watery grave? Those were the questions I asked in retrospect. But at that time I was not thinking at all. I was deeply afraid that I would drown in this water and no one will know I died until my body surfaced. 

God saw me and He sent an angel in the form of one of my neighbors who saw the whole thing and ran immediately and dragged me out of that disgusting  dirty water. I was disobedient to my mother when she told me not to leave the house and go roaming around the neighborhood to get myself in trouble. I was a rebellious child, looking for any kind of attention I can get, either negative or positive attention. I got the former. That day my neighbor who God sent to save me pulled me out of the water told me to go home and washed up. The next thing I can recall is Marjorie, our lived-in maid, washing me off with the garden hose pipe in front of the house, much to my chagrin. Marjorie took the hose and washed me right there while the tears slipped down my face and while fear and trembling took over. I was afraid she would report this incident to my parents who already believed I was a child from hell.  I never did what they wanted me to do and I rebelled at each juncture. So I was disciplined a great deal. However, Marjorie had mercy on me that day and did not report the incident to my parents. They never knew what happened that day. But it is seared in my memory and I never divulge any of it to anyone. I never wore that yellow dress again. I did learn however, how not to jump across the pond because one of the neighbors placed a wooden plank so we can cross over safely.