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Vaché

Vaché King



Granny: "Just having a talk with Jesus"


Hmmm, as perplexed as I was, I said nothing further. I was six years old, and since birth, I had always been told to never question an adult. Even if, she was talking to herself…or so I thought.

I remember it like it was yesterday, summertime 1981, over to my paternal grandmother's home; where I spent all my summers. I recall taking a break from playing with friends outside, going into the home and it being unusually quiet. It was extremely rare for the house to be quiet as there were 2 adult children living in the home at that time and several of us grandchildren spent summers there. But on this particular day, quiet.

As I went searching for my grandmother, and before entering her room, I would always peek my head around the corner. What was interesting about this experience was my grandmother's posture. There she was quiet, sitting up on the edge of the bed, her eyes were closed, but she was talking. You can imagine, as a child, it was concerning that she appeared to be having a full conversation, but no one else was in the room.

I recall proceeding into the room, not saying anything (you don't interrupt adult conversations), sitting down beside her, closing my eyes imitating everything except the conversation. When she was finished, I looked at her and asked, "Who were you talking to Granny…no one is here."


She replied with a smile on her face and a giggle in her speech, "Just having a talk with Jesus." As confused as I was, I put my head down, my grandmother grabbed me with her arms, pulling me close to hug on me, and kissed me on my forehead. I got up to go back outside and she went on into the kitchen. This was the end of our conversation, but the beginning of my journey as a believer.

Over the course of many summers, I oftentimes found her in the same place, with the same posture, having conversations with a man named Jesus. Sometimes I would join her, even joining in my own conversation, and other times I would watch. I was fascinated with how my grandmother would steal away time to speak with Jesus. How afterward, her smile would bring me comfort and her laugh would bring me joy…how being in her mere presence showered me with peace. My grandmother was a woman of few words but lived a loud life with her actions.

I truly don’t know why it took seven years, but on the Sunday, March 13, 1987, I went before the church, gave my testimony, and was baptized the following Sunday. Although I believed this to be the beginning of my walk with Christ, I now know my walk began on the bed next to my grandmother as she gave me my introduction to Him, the lover of my soul.

Proverbs 22:6 says, “Train up a child in the way they should go [teaching him to seek God’s wisdom and will for his abilities and talents], even when he is old, he will not depart from it. {AMP}” Over the last couple of years, I have become more intentional about stealing away time. Time to reset my mind…time to meditate on His word…time to refocus; to go back to my childhood, reflecting on the moment my grandmother showed me who Jesus is.


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