Monday, October 27, 2008
Singing in the Tub
As a little girl I remember not wanting to take baths. I do not remember the reason for this. I can only assume that I had better things to do with my time. Maybe the thought of getting into the water was scary, for some reason. I just didn't want to do it.
I do not remember what actually got in me in the tub. It may have been my parents or maybe I just gave in. What I do remember best about tub memories other than the fact that I didn't want to take the bath... was how much fun I had once I was in the bath. I would sing and sing and sing. My fingers would get prunie, but I didn't mind. My parents minded that I was in the tub for 30 minutes and still dirty from the water line up, but I was just happy being where I was. Eventually I was forced to actually wash up and get out... Sad that my tub time was over, but dreading the next time it came around.
I don't know why this memory came back to me over the weekend, but I can guess. This weekend I was sick. Not like can't move, call 911 sick, but more achy, churny, not hungry sick. Enough to keep me in my bed and apartment all weekend. As I woke up Monday morning I was feeling a little bit better, but more than anything I wanted fellowship. So often I treat fellowship like I treated bath time as a child.
I know I need fellowship, but I dread going into it. I have fears and doubts, just the prospect seems overwhelming and forced. But... when I am in the midst of it, true fellowship, I don't want it to end. Eventually it must. Then when it is over I can reflect on what a wonderful time I had, but still be dreading the next round.
Why is that?? What is it in me that cannot just let go and embrace those times?