The prompt for today is: Beloved.
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My parents named me Amy, which means beloved, so that’s
nice.
And they did a good job making me feel loved. They have both always been free with
the words that some people just can’t say, “I love you.”
It was just the three of us for years, and our dog, Pookie,
and I was happy.
Then the memories go a bit darker and I am spending lots of
time alone in my room and then, when I was six and still hammering down the
foundations of self that every child is assembling at that age, things kind of
blew up.
My Mom and I were living in a tiny little apartment
near the junior college and my Dad
was in the house I knew and loved and of course, you know where this is going: they
got a divorce.
They named me Beloved, and they did, and I was, but the
tearing apart of my family felt completely wrong; it left me feeling
uncertain, with my foundation all shot to bits, scared and alone.
The summer between sixth and seventh grades I attended a
Christian summer camp. We lived in
cabins and swam in the lake. We
sang loud, raucous camp songs and lilting, heart-jerker choruses. In the morning and evening we gathered
on the green shag carpet in the little chapel and listened to a sermon.
It was there, with the carpet scratching my mosquito-bitten
legs that I first heard about Jesus, what He did on the cross and why that
mattered to me, a heart-broken almost seventh grader.
I learned that it wasn’t just my parents who named me
Beloved, but God. And this was
really, really good to know.
I scrambled onto the lifeboat of that loving as fast as I
could, and I have been saved by it every day of my life since.
We sang this chorus that summer...do you remember it?
Beloved, let us love one another, (let us love one another)
For love is of God,
And everyone who loveth is born of God,
And knoweth God.
He that loveth God (clap, clap, clap)
Knoweth not God,
For God is Love (God is love).
Beloved, let us love one another.
I JOHN 4: 7 AND 8 (that’s great!)
Amy, I love your post! Church summer camp was a true Godsend to me too! While my parents didn't divorce until I was adult, the pain was still intense. Divorce is a dark thing. I am glad you found your way to truly feeling beloved.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for your comment, Holly! I am so sorry about your parents; divorce is not easy at ANY age. After writing this post, I have camp songs floating through my head now!! Enjoy your weekend!
DeletePhew...these words really got me (maybe because I have a middle schooler who saw his father and I divorce and can so imagine this exact scene)..."It was there, with the carpet scratching my mosquito-bitten legs that I first heard about Jesus, what He did on the cross and why that mattered to me, a heart-broken almost seventh grader."
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Amy (God's beloved!).
I write often for FMF but didn't this week. I wanted to write about how my name means beloved but I couldn't ever get the words...looks like you did a fine job for both of us. Great post!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amy! How fun that we both had the same idea :).
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