Reflections 1/31/2020: This poor guy’s dilemma instantly transported me back to the playground of my 2nd grade year. Winter just outside of Boston. Freezing cold! My older sister, Beth, (who up until that point had been my heroine!), convinced me during recess that touching my tongue to the metal bar on the fence would be a delightful experience. Picturing a sort of snow cone sensation, I trusted her recommendation and slapped my unsuspecting tongue onto the frozen metal bar. Instant super glue! I was stuck like a mouse’s tender feet on a slab of sticky paper! Just then the bell rang to go to class. Beth gallivanted off, leaving me cemented to the bar by my exposed tongue! I could swear I could hear her laughter as she pranced to class! Not sure which was worse… losing the big flap of skin I left attached to the frozen bar to free myself, or losing my trust in my heroine-sister’s best intentions for me! We remained friends as we grew up, but I adopted a protective stance of skepticism to any advice she gave me. And others’ too. (Funny how those survival vows expand their perimeter.) Perhaps that was the headwaters of my headstrong independence… not being willing to just “go with the flow” of something doesn’t seem right to me. (Has gotten me into hot water many a time!) AND it has made my surrender to Your input, Lord, a bit more difficult as well! BUT we’ve made good progress over our 50 years together! Most of my tongue traumas have been choices of my own making (despite Your warnings), but even the times when Your nudges have seemed to get me stuck in an uncomfortable place, I have learned to trust Your larger intention for me. 🎶“You’re a good, good Father. That’s who You are, who You are! And I’m loved by You!”🎶