I was a good girl. I worked hard in school; I never got into any trouble. At home, I obeyed my parents, at least outwardly. I wasn't disrespectful, at least not in the words that came out of my mouth. I did my work adequately--although I must admit, not always diligently! I loved my younger half-siblings and met their needs responsibly when they were in my care.
Yes, I was a good girl. And I thought it was enough. I loved Jesus, I knew He loved me. After all, I had been to Sunday School and Vacation Bible School when I was younger and I learned that song!
I clung to Jesus when when I heard a voice raised in anger toward my mother.
I clung to Jesus when that anger was directed toward us.
I clung to Jesus when I was bitterly cold and the tears froze on my cheeks.
I clung to Jesus when I was brought to face with the fact that I was powerless.
Although I didn't understand a lot of things, I trusted Jesus and I knew He loved me.
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