Another memory of my early childhood took place when I was somewhere between three and five years old. My sister and I live with our grandmother in a small house in Theo, Mississippi. We didn’t have running water, but God had put a spring in the woods behind the house. I don’t remember me and my sister going there many times, though. It was a good distance from the house and down a steep hill.
I remember a man in an old green car bringing us water in glass, orange juice jugs. His name was Jimbo. We helped our grandmother carry those jugs of water, that God had provided for us, into the house, and into the kitchen, where she put them on the counter, by the sink.
At some point, we got a water faucet outside, by the front porch. Then we didn’t have to carry water from the spring or have anyone else bring us water. We were living the life then. It reminds me of the time God made water come out of a rock, to provide for his people in the wilderness. One day I went to get some water from the faucet, and saw a spider hanging there. When it saw me it quickly climbed up its web, and went inside the faucet. I had my own “Itsy, Bitsy Spider.” At least that’s what I thought at the time. I was quite a bit older before I realized that a water spout and a faucet were two different things.
I remember a lot that happened while we lived there, in that little house in Theo. I remember my Aunt and uncle, and cousins coming to visit. Our cousins were older than us, but they would always make a mess in our kitchen, and leave without cleaning it up. After they would leave, we would help our grandmother clean up, and get the place back like it was before they came. We loved our home that God had provided for us.
One time, while our uncle and his family were visiting, my sister ran into his open car door, and cut the corner of her eye. She did the same thing with our dad’s car door. I don’t remember which one happened first, but she ended up with almost identical scars on both eyes. She was blessed that her eyes were not badly damaged.
My grandmother kept food beside the bed for us in case we woke up hungry, and I remember waking up, and eating in bed. I never remember going hungry. God has always provided food for us as far back as I can remember.
Our neighbor would get drunk some nights and would be mean to his wife, and son. I remember waking up on more than one occasion and seeing them sitting in our living room in the middle of the night. God provided a safe place for them while that man was drunk.
Another time, a man was mowing our yard, and my grandmother was outside doing something. The mower hit a wire clothes hanger and flung it right into her leg. It made a big bloody mess. She came in with the wire sticking out of her leg, and if I remember correctly, she had to get some pliers to pull it out. She bled like a stuck hog, but thankfully, it didn’t do any real damage.
A few years before that, when my sister was two years old, she had a bad accident. It was winter, and we had a wood heater. Somehow she fell over on it, and just laid there screaming, with her head touching the heater, for what seemed like forever. I don’t even think she went to the doctor, though. They just put something in a tube on it, and fixed her right up. To this day, though, there is a spot on my sister’s head where no hair will grow, but thankfully, it’s only about the size of a quarter.
We were in the garden one day, and my aunt screamed, grabbed me, and pulled me back. She saw the snake just before I stepped on it. I could have been bitten, but thank God I wasn’t.
Another time, when I was five years old, I was on the front porch, and a hornet stung me right between the eyes. I was allergic to bee stings, and I started swelling fast. There was a house church in our neighborhood, and they happened to be having service. My grandmother, and my mother, I think, took me there for prayer. I remember everybody praying, and all the while, my eyes were swelling tighter, and tighter until I couldn’t see anymore. I must have passed out because that’s the last I remember about that.
For years I thought God didn’t answer their prayer, but he did. They were praying for me to be okay, and to not die. I did tell you I was allergic to bee stings, didn’t I? As a matter of fact, I was stung several more times over the years, and now I’m hardly allergic at all. I guess my body has built up an immunity to the toxin. God knows what he’s doing. We can trust him, and as we look back at our past, we can see many times when God took care of us, protected us, and even though we may have suffered pain, he often saved us from something much worse.
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