My two-year-old grandson launched toy car after toy car down his Little Tykes slide in the house last time I visited. I set up different sizes of vehicles to zoom down side by side. Racing. Anytime you can keep a toddler busy on a task for more than five minutes, that’s a win. Add sound effects: Vroooom! Even better.
He didn’t tire. This was fun with abandon.
Then he picked up these little silicone cups and tried racing those down the slide, but as you can guess, they don’t move too quickly.
As they barely inched down the plastic, instead of “Zoom,” I said “Creep, creep creep.” And boy was that funny to this little one who has only a few words collected in his vocabulary so far. From then on, all I heard was his imitation of his Mimi: “Creep, creep, creep” (though he said it without the Rs).
And you can bet that I have carried that on for a month now. . . used in many situations.
Every time something is not moving as fast as I’d like it, I whisper it to myself, “Creep, creep, creep.”
As I have mentioned, I have kept my story hidden for so long that the mask became quite comfortable. As long as I didn’t talk about my secret, the mask could show as reality.
Few knew the truth, and when they urged me to talk to, say, my sister, for example, I promised I would as soon as my book was published.
That bought me some time.
But it felt like that mask was sewn in place, and I don’t know that I really planned to remove it. Whenever anyone asked me when, I claimed, “Soon. I’m not quite ready.”
Creep, creep, creep.
Unforeseen circumstances (a surprise birthday celebration with my daughters, nieces & sister) brought me in front of them, alone, newly published book in hand.
It was time.
We tore down the false fronts. Removed the mask I was wearing.
Hugged. Laughed & cried. Fun with abandon.
I don’t fully know why I crept along because I sure feel lighter in my steps now. Like I can move a little faster toward healing.
I’m ready to share my story with you.
I wrote my book for those who don't recognize themselves in a mirror and might need to hear God's voice telling them who they really are.
You might be surprised when you show your face. The countenance reflected might be a whole new creation, and the smile a genuine one of peace.
Check out My Father’s Daughter on Amazon or Barnes & Noble.
[I love to hear from readers, both of this publication and of my new book. Connect with me in the comment section. ♥️]
And please share this post so those who need encouragement to drop their masks and run after hope can find it. We can inspire each other along the way.
Shell, we can feel your heart as your mask falls. No, as you allow it to be pulled off. Hope you feel free to be who you are: Your Father's Daughter. Your book is soooooo very readable.
Beautiful story, Shell. And what a great segue to your book. Well done! What an achievement. I know how that feels :)