9/15/99
14. Our Daily Life
Little one, now let us continue on with My Life’s journey.
After My father was told he could return back to Nazareth, he praised the Father along with My mother. We did not immediately leave. My father had established himself in his trade, and we acquired friends for whom we wanted to give proper farewell and salutations. My father also wanted to wait to be sure that the upheaval and unrest had settled down. We remained in Egypt 2 more years. By the time we returned to our homeland, I was 6 ½ years of age.
But first let me tell you of a day in My Life now as we return to the scene in Egypt.
I was almost 4 years old now. I was at the age when I was learning numbers, and I was interested in books (scrolls) and was very active, running, playing and climbing. We shall continue on from this point on a routine day, so that you can see what My life was like.
I am running around in a circle while My mother is sitting in her chair reading. I fall to the ground, roll over on My back, and I say to My mother, “I’m dying, I’m being killed, I’m dead.” I raise both My arms up from My sides extending them out, and I sigh a big breath and close My eyes. I peak open My eyes to see My mother who in distress is looking at Me with sorrowful, concerned eyes. I say, “I’m only pretending, Mom. Don’t worry. God is with you.” I close My eyes again and exhale a big sigh as if once again it is My last breath. I sit up now with a big smile, My legs extended, and My arms behind Me holding Me up.
Mommy is still not happy, and she’s still looking at Me. I get up and run to her, and I put both My hands on each side of her cheeks. “Be happy, Mom. It’s alright. I have to pretend to die today because that is what I will have to do later, but I will save you from bad people. I will protect you. See?” (as I smile at My mother.)
Mommy responded, “That’s enough for today, My dear One.”
“OK, Mom, you wanna read me a story now. But first maybe we better have something sweet to eat. I’m hungry, Mom. It’s kind of hard to die. Let’s have some honey then you can read me two stories, and then you wanna roll rocks with me?”
O’ the innocence of children. They do not understand the implications of their actions. They are so genuinely innocent and pure that you can hardly contain yourself from desiring to scoop them up into your arms and lovingly embracing them. Little one, O’ the sorrow which awaits those who harm little children and do not lovingly care for them.
I will stop here for now. But we will continue later when My father walks into the room, greets My mother, and I jump in his lap with my arms extended, asking, “Daddy, you wanna play rocks with us?” Peace, little one. Peace.