When I was seven my best friend was a boy named Jack. He lived up a winding road on a hill that felt like a mountain. My mom knew the passcode for the huge black gate. When the wrought iron swung open, my heart swung free. I kissed her cheek and promised to be good, then leaped from the car to my waiting friend.
We waved to Jack’s mom perched at the top of the driveway, signaling our consent to play by the rules. Then off we ran. We crossed the sprawling lawn to the edge of the earth where rusty bottle caps were treasures and rocks were ancient arrows.
Our next adventure was the dune. I can’t fathom the purpose of such a massive pile of dirt other than the sheer pleasure of wild children. Brown clouds puffed around our feet as we scampered up the loose mound. Then down we slid, whooping and hollering in rowdy delight. We conquered the slope again and again until my pale skin was plastered with enough dust to make me look like my tan-skinned best bud.
But my most favorite thing was the climbing tree.
Up that tree I was no longer a little girl with scraggly hair and a gap in her front teeth. I was strong. I scaled fearlessly up the white bark, grasping each smooth branch as the tree swayed with the wind, our weight. Higher and higher we climbed like monkeys — unrestrained, carefree. Finding a sturdy bough, we stopped to swing, toes dangling in the breeze. Then the race was back on to see who’d get to the tippy top first where the branches were more like twigs and we’d somehow perch together.
Eventually, my mom returned. She spotted us near the clouds and started calling, “Be careful!” and “Get down now!” Feet back on the ground, Jack and I listened to the appropriate reprimand about how we were far too high and so unsafe.
Yet the scolding was worth it. Every time. Because even if the height and freedom were temporary, I knew my heart was made to fly. I wasn’t content to play with dolls and toy dishes. I was a climber. A seeker. A risk-taker and boundary-tester. I was independent, determined, often stubborn, and always full of spunk.
I hadn’t thought about Jack and our summer adventures in years. Until yesterday morning.
I peered out the kitchen window and saw my five-year-old barefoot in the backyard, digging in the spot we’ve told him not to dig. It wasn’t even 8 a.m. I opened the back door to call him in, but as soon as he saw me his eyes lit up.
“Mommy, Mommy! I found this huge buried stone and I think there might be gold underneath it!”
I heard the excitement in his voice. Smelled the crisp invitation of earth alive with dew. I saw the dirt wedged between his toes, crusted on knees. And all my treasure-hunting, dirt-sliding, tree-climbing days with Jack came rushing back.
The intended rebuke caught shallow in my throat — I knew my son just needed to be free.
I breathed.
“Yes, buddy, I think you’re right. I think there is gold under there.” He kept digging and I went inside seeing the riches just unearthed.
You see, there is a richness to our stories. Hidden treasures of wisdom and insight that come with the gift of hindsight. There are story threads that may seem inconsequential at the time, like a little girl’s tree-climbing delight. But when examined from a broader perspective, that tiny thread feeds into a grander strand — a theme that makes the greater story.
Watching my boy crouch happily in the dirt, I was awestruck by the beauty of how God had woven my story together.
Many times since becoming a mom, I have wondered why God gave me three boys. I grew up with mostly my mom and two older sisters. In a house full of girls, my tomboy days were short-lived. I knew more about Clinique compacts and pink-wrapped Tampax than I did about weapon noises and bathroom humor.
I love my sons fiercely, but some days I feel unexpectedly desperate. How do I thrive (or just survive) in a house full of boys who shout and wrestle till they laugh or cry? Boys with no volume control who make me feel out of control. Boys whose deep-down wild I cannot tame.
I had forgotten me and Jack. I had forgotten what it feels like to fearlessly crave the heights. Forgotten the deep need to live brave beyond boundaries.
This window to my past was the way to remembering.
Now I can see the beauty of an out-of-the-box little girl who God was preparing to one day become a mama. A mama who would need to understand that children thrive in freedom. Freedom to discover how God made the world and each person in it — different.
I’m bulled over with wonder at the grace of His handiwork.
I hear a lot these days about the power of stories. How we need each other’s stories. I wholeheartedly agree. But sometimes we need our own story. We need to remember what has been to understand what is now. We need to record today’s moments so we can make sense of tomorrow’s.
Watching sunbeams catch golden in my boy’s crazy bed-head as he worked to uncover his treasure, I couldn’t help but wonder: How will God use the story I’m living today to prepare me for the one yet to come?
Leave a Comment
Michele Morin says
I’m on the other end of the boy-mum story with my youngest getting his driver’s license, and so now you’ve set my heart to pondering that last question. I’m anticipating the next chapter while still savoring every turn of the page in this one. There were seasons of mothering in which I was certain that I was being prepared for combat in some remote jungle location. 🙂 Thank you for giving value and thought to the mothering story. The prevailing message is that I’ve spent 20+ years in a dead-end job, but we both know that’s a story based on lies.
Becky Keife says
Michele, you’ve spent 20 years investing, nurturing, and equipping the next generation! The end of this season is only the beginning for your son’s — nothing dead end about that! So glad we can cling to the One who writes our stories even if others are promoting a different narrative. Savoring each season with you. xx
Kate says
I love this post!!! I’m in a crazy busy season and I often wonder, breathless, how God will make the little details of each day thread together meaningfully. This post relates and speaks to my heart! Thank you for sharing.
Becky Keife says
Such a blessing to read your comment, Kate!
Jayne McLeod says
You have stirred and encouraged my heart with your story Becky … thank you for sharing. You write beautifully.
Enjoy the SONshine, today and always, Jayne
Becky Keife says
Thank you, Jayne! So glad to have you here today.
Amy George says
Becky! I totally agree. I have been reflecting on my own story of late. With the hindsight of 55 years I can see God’s hand, His grace, the amazing wonder of it all. It gives me strength and confidence, knowing He is in my tomorrow as well. Thank you!
Becky Keife says
The amazing wonder of it all. Yes, Amy! Exactly. He is so good.
Penny says
Becky,
What a sweet story, thank-you for sharing it.
Have a blessed day all,
Penny
Becky Keife says
Thanks, Penny! 🙂
Anne says
Thank you Becky for bringing back to me my story! I was a tom boy in the trees and running thru fields, always outside, catching snakes and watching bugs. I was independent, stubborn and brave! I see my story unfold as I allow children in my Christian Childcare center to dig in The mud ,climb trees, shout loud outside and explore the gifts of nature. Asking Father God to continue to use my story for His Eternal Kingdom and thanking Him for your precious words.
Becky Keife says
I love that, Anne! What a gift you are to the kiddos in your care.
mrs. CK says
When you are a mother of children who go off track, stop going to Church, tell you that “God is your belief not mine” and you don’t have those joyous stories it is very hard to see God’s plan and how He is using the things to make a better story. I came from a lot ofbrokenness and have hoped and prayed that my children would be on a better trajectory. yeah yeah, I know “its not over yet” and all that far distant hope we as Christians are to comfort ourselves with. I thank God He says there is Hope but I would like to have a bit more of the reality of hope activated and applied to my children’s lives now. It does say in the Bible too “Hope deferreth breakith the heart.” I hope and pray that I am healthy in mind, body, spirit to see the day the Lord restores their hearts to Him and blesses them with being born again and living lives that honor and love Jesus and allows them to live out their God given potential.
Angela says
Dear One, God loves you and also those precious humans that you were allowed to care for and influence for a season. We can pray with you that your children will indeed seek the Lord, and that it will happen regardless if you are around to see the transformation. Many of us were not actually seeking the Lord, when He found us! For myself, in church through childhood —it was a Bible Study in my 50s where I learned that faith is about a relationship with Jesus, not “attending church” — that blessing is a gift we choose from seeking where we might serve the Savior and fellowship with other saints. Naturally we would love to see our children follow God’s plan to avoid making poor, sometimes disastrous, decisions. We have watched each of our 5 children come to spiritual maturity as they have grown older, and we know that we can trust Him to bring them to saving
faith in His time. My husband, also in church all his life, chose not to participate in any church when he left home, due to disappointment with ministers (some major sin) and the harshness of the particular denomination. Fast forward: (he never stopped believing God, just kept his faith very private) retired from a sales career, thinking he would have more time for fishing, golf, etc. when he began – at age 70! – to wake up with gospel music lyrics in his head that he felt compelled to write —no music background, and has now written several prize-winning gospel songs with a co-writer! Our calling as a couple is to bless others with this inspirational music. I have told this lengthy story to simply let you know that with our God there is always hope! Love and blessings for you and your children!
Becky Keife says
mrs. CK, praying a fresh outpouring of hope over you today and for God’s saving grace to reach into the lives of your children. Thanks for sharing the hard of your journey.
Angela, thank you for sharing your perspective and story of God’s faithfulness in your life! I so appreciate hearing from you today.
Beth Williams says
Becky,
God is weaving stories in us all the time. He knows what the future holds for us. We also need each other’s stories. They help us see that we aren’t alone in this world of toil & trouble. God weaves the threads in our stories to make a greater story than we can imagine. Often times I wondered why I stayed so close to my parents. God knew that one day they would need me to help them in their old age. My sisters were all married with children. Now that I’ve been through that phase I can help my hubby with his parents. God understands our lives & has stories to create. Each part of the story leads to another. I can’t wait to see what He has in store for us later in life.
Blessings 🙂
Becky Keife says
Beth, thanks for sharing this sweet perspective. Nodding along in agreement and thankful for the ways you’ve seen God author the different pieces of your story.
Terri says
Becky,
I needed your voice, message, today! Comparatively as a child of our God. Our lives are threads woven together in an amazing story, and I am smack, dab in the middle of a big mess! But, reading “Brave without boundaries” reminds me of who I really am. I am such a brave woman. My faith has gotten me through many struggles. So, Becky…. thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. My children are adults now. But, I saw your story from a different perspective.
Many blessings,
Terri
Becky Keife says
Precious Terri, I’m so blessed to know God used this post to continue to encourage your heart in the middle of your messy story. Praying you experience His nearness today. Keep on keepin’ on, brave one!
Connie Rowland says
Hi Becky! Thank you for sharing your “hidden treasures of wisdom and insight” with us. I enjoyed it so much. God bless!
Becky Keife says
So glad to have you here, Connie!
Wanda Sewell says
Becky, I enjoyed your write-up. I remember being a tomboy and actually miss those days of roughing it! God Bless you as you continue on in your journey of story recalling!
Becky Keife says
Thank you so much, Wanda!
Renee Dahlen says
There is so much wisdom in your words. I love “seeing” you and your friend Jack……..and now your boys exploring and becoming wonderful men one adventurous day at a time! SO glad I stopped by today. Your post has made me smile.
Laurie Pawlik-Kienlen says
Becky, thank you for writing this!
The idea that my story is important and valuable, for both myself and others is relatively new for me. I rarely shared my opinion or perspective, thinking that others are more important and “right.” But my own story needs to be told…and even if I’m the only one I tell it to, that’s okay! Because even telling it to me, in the presence of my friend Jesus, is sometimes all I need.
And other times, I just need someone else to tell it to 🙂
Blessings,
Laurie