by Nicole Tegg
I was born in 1975 in a place where the land was beautiful. In the springtime, all the leaves on the trees would be green with new life. As a young child, I would walk the land and spend as much time outside as possible. The house was built as a summer home in the 1940s, with very little thought given to such things as insulation. Out, the paint was gray and peeling horribly. The windows were bunker-like, and not much light got inside. The front door was thick and white. At the same time, the back door was frail and quickly broken into. It was dark, musty, and completely worn.
The property had trees that were over one hundred and fifty years old. The oak tree on top of the highest hill was my favorite spot because it was tall and robust. I felt small and sheltered from any storm. There was another even more enormous tree down by the limestone stairs that led to the bottom of the hill near the driveway’s entrance. I seldom spent time there, but I loved that large tree too!
At the early age of five, I was always drawing and doing artwork. I would give my precious colored pictures home to anyone I met. I adored people and would tell them I would be a famous artist someday. Almost everyone believed me and would put the picture in a special safe place. However, all was not cheerful within because I was lonely for a deep personal connection. I knew, too, that being alone was simply a grief.
Mother came to me one day (and I don’t know when). She bent her knees and got right up close to me. She said, “Honey, we need to pray together today.” She was holding a prayer card. I have since misplaced the card, but I remember praying to Jesus for the first time in my little life. I accepted His work on earth. I told God I was sorry for sinning and doing evil things.
From that moment on, everything was new to me. I also was never lonely. I held special secrets in my heart. Things that I knew one day might happen. If they did, it would be okay in God’s great plan and design. Jesus came into my heart and cleaned out all the old junk. He rearranged the furniture, and I was never the same little girl. No, I was not perfect, but I could pray, and Jesus would hear my wishes.
My Mother always ensured I knew what the right thing to do was. For example, I couldn’t curse, and if I did, I would be in trouble. If I lied, she’d always find out. Many days, I would run to Daddy when he came home because it had been a hard day. He would pick me up in his arms and hug me. I loved my Father dearly. I was a Daddy’s little girl. He would come home from the factory with sharp metal shavings in the soles of his shoes. I would watch him intently take out his pocket knife and dig each and every one out with careful attention. That’s what the Word of God does in our hearts. The Word will clean out those areas of darkness, sin, and death.
I continued to grow and mature into a young lady. I began to ponder and think about my future. I remember one day when I was walking up the big hill to the old oak tree. I felt the burden of praying for my future husband because I wanted to marry someday. I prayed for him like he never knew Jesus because I didn’t know him. I didn’t know his name, address, phone number, or even what kind of home he was in. I prayed a lot for him because he already had a spot reserved in my heart. It was apparent, however, that God, my Heavenly Father, knew all about him.