A New Chapter

I could feel the big motor gently vibrating - like a kitty when you stoke it's back. It seemed to bounce gently, even comfortingly, while the big, round wheels carried us far away from our old house.

I flipped open my new notebook and stared at the empty pages. A great, mysterious feeling poured into me as I looked at it. What could I write in here? Empty notebooks were so inspiring. I felt that, somehow, an overwhelming potential lay in their smooth pages. If only I didn't write down the wrong thing and ruin it.

Kara sat beside me, legs crossed, drawing pictures in her notebook. She didn't know how to write yet.

Dad had stopped at a gas station a while ago. We - Dad, Kara and I - were all in his big truck: the one he hauled freight in when he was at work. He had put me and Kara on the little bed behind his seat and pulled all the curtains shut around us. It was like a cave, and I shivered with the enjoyment of it all. He was a pretty nice guy, that Dad. He even bought us M&M's - the peanut kind that crunched.

Now he was driving again; headed for Wisconsin. Mom was following us in the white car with Isaac in the backseat.

She told me there would be all sorts of wonderful people in Wisconsin - cousins, aunts, uncles - and, of course, Nannie and Grandpa. We visited them sometimes. Nanny had a huge laundry shoot that went all the way down to her basement. She had a big slinky, too. Once she showed me how to push it just right, so it would flop, end-over-end, all the way down her stairs. She knew lots of songs about different things - hotdogs and chickadees were the ones that I remembered the most.

"Chicka dee-dee-dee-dee

In the evergreen tree

It's snowing, it's blowing

Chica-dee-dee-dee-dee"

I sang that one at home a lot. Staring at the pine tree by our house, I would imagine a little bird singing and bobbing on the swaying branches...But the hotdog song was too long to remember.

Then there was Grandpa. The first time I remember seeing him, he was smiling at me...I had fallen asleep on one of those long, long drives to their house. When I opened my eyes, and discovered the trip was over, he had teased, "So you just closed your eyes and here you were?!"

And there were Uncles. They had dark hair, and were big as giants. Once, one of them had lifted me way off the ground, so I could throw a basketball into the hoop. Even from that close range, I missed. The ball bounced off the rim, and thunked me in the lip with startling power. I had tried so hard to keep from crying, but my mouth turned down into the ugliest of expressions (how I hated when that happened), and a big sob rose from my throat. I ran inside to find Mom, and tripped up the stairs - a double humiliation.

"Yes," I reasoned, leaning back against the wall, "They are nice people." Still, I was afraid of leaving everyone else - and what about our house? Our swing set? Our whole life?

Here was the doorway to something completely new. It seemed that I was standing on the front step, looking out, not sure what to think, and feeling a little scared. For that matter, I didn't care if anyone knew I was, either. What about my best friend Hope? Would I ever see her again?

As I sat there, staring at my white paper, wondering what should be written on it, God was watching me. Even when I felt like nobody could know what I thought, or understand the little things that I wondered about, Jesus did. He was taking care of me - even though I couldn't see Him. He wanted me to leave the old things behind because there were others He wanted to show me. There were new places He wanted me to see, and new things He wanted to give me. Good things: like a beautiful baby sister named Rebecca, true friends to grow up with, and exciting adventures to learn from.

In the following years there would be many happy times and, yes, lots of sad times, too. But even when I couldn't understand things, I was certain that everything would be okay, since He was with me.

How did I know? Because He promised never to leave or forsake His children. Mom said so.

I peek into the future - as snapped by Daddy. :)