Losing my Innocence

There must be a song with this title if I am not mistaken. I am sure most if not all of us know what this statement means. We remember the days of innocence with nostalgia,days when we knew how to distinguish good from evil, the permitted from the forbidden.We can recall the occasions when our little misdemeanours were met with a slap on the wrist or a spank on the bottom if we were repeat offenders, or if our seniors simply happened to be in a foul mood.

I remember the days when some things were cause for embarassment, when some things were only spoken in hushed tones carefully punctuated by giggles and sniggers. I miss the days when the lines were clearly drawn and there weren’t as many gray areas as I see around me these days. I remember the guilt I felt when I broke some unwritten rules, how my mind raced and my heart was in turmoil as I looked forward to the downstairs toilet where I would go on my knees and profusely apologize to God for my mistakes. I miss the days when I stayed for a seemingly endless time under the cold shower hoping the water would somehow wash away the filth I sensed contaminating my body.

I cannot go back to the past, and what lies there remains a record in history. I can do little with the future, it is not so much in my hands, as it is in God’s. I can do everything possible with the present. I can make bold requests, I can face my mountains, not ordering them to move, but instead relying on the strength of God to help me soar over them. If my faith can move a mountain, it can also cause me to soar above it. After all, why move a landmark when you can rise above it, view it as something under you and enjoy the descent into your destiny on its other side?