Family Gregg

Okay, so I have a story for you.

I am not one of those "mystical' types.

I am married to one...but I am usually the "plant your feet firmly on the ground..get your head out of the clouds...enough with the flowery language" sort of girl.

Occasionally, the Lord gives me mystical glimpses...but they are far a few between. When they do occur....I take notice.

Yesterday morning I awoke...made some coffee & sliced up a cantaloupe...prepared bagels and cream cheese for the kids...straightened the kitchen...the usual Sunday routine I go through as we prepare for church. All the while though...I kept thinking...Charles Ingalls. Little House on the Prairie....Charles Ingalls. He would not leave my mind.

I was thinking to myself....Goodness....that show had such an impact on me...on our culture. I loved Charles Ingalls. I miss Charles Ingalls. I wish he were still around. What was it about Charles Ingalls? Where are all the modern day Charles Ingalls'? All this in my head...over coffee.

Then the kids were up and we were out the door.

I'm sitting in church...situating myself in preparation for the sermon...when the Pastor begins with a story. About Little House on the Prairie. LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I cried.

This "non-mystical" "feet firmly planted on the ground" girl cried.

I swear people around me must think I am nuts. Crying over a Little House on the Prairie story.

It wasn't the story necessarily. Though the story of how one woman being put on the path to salvation through an episode...was amazing.

It's the fact that my Father knows me so well. It kills me.

It's like he whispers to my heart.