When I was a little girl, a thought would randomly enter my consciousness and fill my entire being. My body would tingle with an emotion beyond joy. My lips would curl up into a smile, and I would know with certainty that I was going to be rich!
I can barely remember the feeling because I have not felt it in so long, that it would be easy to think that I imagined it or dreamed it. But I know I did not. My soul knows I did not. A residue of that experience has been imprinted on my spirit and I know that I know that it was real.
As an adult I have often wondered if the thought was a promise from God, and
somehow, I missed it. Did I not believe in it enough, or did I make the wrong choices?
Then sometimes I think that I am rich. Maybe the promise was never a monetary one, maybe the promise was the knowledge that God is real, and that life is a beautiful gift.
Maybe I am rich because I did not live this life alone. My mother, father, brothers, sisters, son, grandbabies, husband…were the riches that God promised me. Every person that I met and had a relationship with or the stranger that I engaged in conversation while waiting at the auto repair shop were the treasure.
Yes, I am rich because I have people that I love, and I have people that love me.