Here is one of the most profound reason I have to believe. When I was 5 years old, my parents were going through a divorce, and my mom started using a lot of drugs, including that super fun one crack. My dad wasn’t involved, he choose to do his drugs in hiding away from us pesky kids. One winter afternoon, my mom dropped me off with an old neighbor girl of ours named Angie, who was 11 years old and seemed like the coolest person to my 5 y/o self.

We were unsupervised and wound up in the backyard, which backed up to a creek and a swimming hole, reminiscent of an old-fashioned swimming spot. For those unfamiliar, a creek is similar to a river but much smaller. This swimming hole had a rope swing tied to a tree, and I, not yet able to swim, watched in envy as the other kids swung out and splashed into the water every summer, clearly having the time of their lives. Finally, Angie and I made our way to the rope swing. I asked her to help me swing out over the water, wanting her to catch the rope when it swung back. After a little coaxing, she agreed. Holding the rope steady, I placed my booted feet on the knot at the bottom of the rope and gripped it with both hands as Angie prepared to push me over the water. On the count of three, I heard her shout, and with a whoosh, I flew out over the water—only to fall right into the middle of the 20-foot deep swimming hole. I vividly remember sinking to the bottom, my winter coat and boots weighing me down. I opened my eyes when I hit bottom and could see clearly, I looked up and I saw the most beautiful woman standing in front of me. She wore a dark emerald green medieval-style dress cinched with a plain rope belt. Her long, flowing auburn hair and emerald green eyes reminded me of the vibrant color of her dress, while her alabaster skin seemed to glow. Without a word, she reached out her hand, and I took it. She slowly walked me out of the water and onto the embankment. I don’t remember not being able to breathe or panicking at all. I had a total sense of peace. Angie stood frozen in shock, having watched everything unfold. After snapping out of her shock, she rushed over and said, “Come on, let’s put your clothes in the dryer before our parents get back. My mom will kill me if she finds out I let you on the rope swing, promise you won’t say anything.” I promised and neither of us mentioned my rescuer. I knew that Angie had not see her. Later that evening, after my mom picked me up and as we drove to my grandparents’ house, I told my mom about my experience and how the beautiful lady who I came to know as Deidra (but that is a story for another day) saved me. I’ll never forget her reaction. She shut me down, saying, “Don’t tell anyone else that story; they’ll think you’re crazy.” For years, her words closed me off from sharing my experiences, but as I grew older and encountered more reasons to believe, I realized I wasn’t crazy. I knew my rescuer saved me that day over 40 years ago and other times through my life. It’s time for me to share my experiences and create a safe space for anyone wanting to express their reasons to believe. Welcome to my blog, my little buttery biscuits and let the journey of spiritual growth and healing begin!