I originally wrote this post about five months ago. Enjoy!
I just started planning for our family's summer camping trip. As I am thinking through the details, memories from my childhood flood my mind. There was the time my sister, Amber, got punched in the stomach for standing up to a girl who called me a name. That's a favorite. And all of us kids like to talk about our dog, Kibbles, and the time he jumped out of the van window not once but two times while we were driving through the camp grounds. We changed his name to Stupid. There are memories of Boggle games, singing "The Ant Go Marching One by One" while hiking, or mom's ability to recreate a house in our campsite without a camper (refrigerator, coffee pot and all). And then there is Trace.
I think I was eight or nine that summer. Having been to this particular campground a few times, we kids felt we "owned" the place. I remember walking to the playground with a confidence that come with familiarity. And there she was. She was standing on the top level of the play structure belting out a song I'd never heard. Some of the words I couldn't understand. I wondered if it was a foreign language. We acted like we didn't notice her and tried to play like everything was normal.
Well, as usual with kids, it didn't take long before one of us approached her. I don't remember which one of us it was, but I know it wasn't me. I do remember the way she introduced herself. I hope I never forget. She lifted her head high and announced, "I'm Trace. The most BEAUtiful singer in the world." I was shocked and a bit star-struck. She wasn't being cocky or vain. There wasn't arrogance in her voice. I didn't know what it was at first but I was drawn to it. And so were the other kids. She seemed to acquire a small following of children that wanted to hear her and be around her. I remember wanting to spend as much time with her that weekend as possible.
We were excited when she was at the swimming hole and we would invite her to come spend time at our campsite. When we met her dad I found out what made me admire her so much. I remember one of the adults asking her dad about the song she was singing. He told us it was from a movie she'd seen. He said she didn't know all the words and when she'd come to a part she didn't know she'd sing, "uh nooma nooma nay". Weird, I know. And NOT a foriegn language. But what intrigued me was the way she sang those words. With confidence. She didn't have to have everything figured out. She was the most beautiful singer in the world and so she sang.
I wonder, what would happen if I approached the gifts and abilities God has given me with that kind of confidence? What would I be like? How would that change my life as a wife and mother? A worshiper? A friend? I don't want to be prideful. I want to be sure. Even when I don't have it all figured out I want to stand and sing at the top of my lungs, "uh nooma nooma nay!"