Cotton Balls

A room full of laughing children, smiling grandmotherly old ladies... LOTS of cotton balls and sticky glue. These are my earliest memories of my journey to meeting and falling in love with the One who made me, the Creator of the universe. A journey to a Savior - a journey towards a relationship that I shall continue to pursue so long as their is breath in my lungs.

A church basement - so magical and marvelous - filled with colored sunlight pouring through the prettiest windows my three-year old eyes had ever seen. A single solitary visit to church as a child. Forever etched into my memory.

Sweet Music.
Dazzling Sunlight.
Globs of Glue.
Cotton Balls.

We were visiting my great-grandparents in Florida. It must have been the first time someone ever told me God loved me because even now the memory warms my soul as I remember that morning.

The chorus of old-timey church bells, a parking lot filled with laughter, running and jumping into my Daddy's arms. Asking if we could come back again. Proudly showing off the sheep I made. A sticky blob of cotton balls. The whispers my soul must have heard.

"I know my sheep... I love my sheep... Erica I love you..."

Such a long long time ago. Such a brief encounter with God. And yet, I remember. I never forgot.

God made me. God loved me. God was pursuing me - even as a young child. Funny how God can use something so simple...

Sunlight and cotton balls.

Love and laughter.



{The picture is what my three-year old brought home from Sunday School a couple weeks ago AFTER I originally wrote this post in my journal. (Most all my posts are written by hand in my journal and are later transferred to my blog. For some reason I can't seem to write at the computer very well. Pen and paper is more comfortable and conducive to better writing.) I bet you can imagine how amazed I was to see this precious little cotton ball lamb. I intend to frame it and display it eventually. For now it is sitting on my desk. I have a cotton ball in my Memorial Box.}