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God is a Lot Like My Granny

© Rev. T. Darlene Cheek, CHt., RMt

Something woke me up after about a half hour of sleep tonight, and I was suddenly thinking of my granny. You know how it is when you get on a train of thought, and it makes this strange little circle around the tracks in your mind and suddenly ends up at a destination you would've never reached if you'd have been trying to get there? This was one of those kind of things.

I thought of Granny, and then I thought of baking cookies, and then I thought of the treatment center where I took my 12-step program, and I somehow ended up on the exercise we did as our last step before going home.

But let's start at the beginning...

When I was little, my granny was my safe place. Everything else in my life was chaos, as all of you know who have read my story here at Suite or in my book. Even though she's been with God since I was 12-years old, I still talk to her, and she has visited me from time to time. I know she's one of my guardian angels and was even when she was here on earth.

I remember when my sisters and I were small, Granny always had tomato plants growing out back behind her duplex. She didn't have room for a whole garden, but she loved those tomatoes! My sisters and I would get back there and pick her green tomatoes and throw them up against the back of the house, just to watch them explode into billions of tiny, green, juicy pieces. To us, this was great fun for some strange reason.

Granny would always catch us, of course! She'd line us up in a row and just look at us with disappointment in her eyes, and instantly we all felt like we might as well have slapped her in the face. We'd start crying and promising to never do it again, but that little devil on our left shoulder would talk us into giving it just one more shot every time!

As we got older, Granny would give us a good switchin' when we misbehaved. For those of you who think that's a terrible thing, trust me, it's just a southern tradition. She'd tell us to go cut a switch, and it had better be a good one, too! By the time we got back around the house with one, we'd be crying again, and after we got a couple of swats, there'd be tears in Granny's eyes, too.

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