It was chilly. Regardless, I clutched tightly to my clothes and plunged
into the night. On tiptoe I
had come through the back of the house and slipped into darkness. My heart raced with disobedience as I shut the door behind and turned to face my rebellion.
In the yard, eyes not yet
adjusted to the inky black, I hit hard the dog jumping at me. “Tracey, get DOWN!” I whisper-screeched, but sucked in my breath
when I realized the animal I struck was too big to be my own. I ran down the alley with all my might. I was surprised it didn’t chase; it must
have been stunned by my boldness. So was
I.
Stones hurt my
bare feet, so I kept to the grass at the side.
I ran hard, but slowed when the air in my lungs was too hot to exhale
without burning my throat. Soon I approached
the streetlight and had to pass by the house with the biggest dog in
the neighborhood. I hoped it wasn’t out
at night.
Sneaking across, I
panicked, hearing a stranger’s voice: “Allie, is that you? What are you doing out so late?” Naked feet slapped madly the asphalt and I
disappeared down the street.
I rounded one
corner, then another, and looking back, saw a police car slowly rolling, peering,
coming close. I hid in bushes, prickly
and stabbing, willing my breath to still.
I could barely make out the radio through its open windows, “Thought I
saw something; it’s nothing,” and in what felt like thirty minutes, they drove
on.
I kept walking,
walking, past the brick schoolhouse, down the hill, on and on into the
night. I came to the final corner and
was at long last only a few houses from my goal: Grandma and Grandpa’s place. Mommy and Daddy had told me I wasn’t allowed
to stay the night and I had been heartbroken.
In my defiance, I had packed up a change of clothes and decided I was
going to march across the town, myself, sleep outside, then sneak in their
house by morning and they would wake up and find me there. I was 5-and-a-half years old.
I reached my goal,
but was discovered making noise in the garage.
(I got too cold trying to sleep in the driveway.) Alarmed at first, Grandpa was amused and I
think secretly impressed. He phoned and
asked where Marilyn was. They answered I
was asleep in bed. Grandpa said, “Go
check.” Ha!
Such was the love
I had for my grandparents! Grandpa
teaching me checkers, singing with me Gaither songs on his 8-track, Grandma
making “Tang-Tea” and listening to Paul Harvey on the radio. It was familiar and safe and I wanted nothing
more than to be with them.
Grandpa went to heaven
six months ago and Grandma followed this week.
They’ve gone home. They join Mom
and Dad who have been keeping their places warm for many years. And how I ache to join in their welcome
celebration this night!
But I have a long journey,
yet ahead. I have dangers to fight and
enemies to avoid, roads to choose and hills to descend. I hurt because I miss them. I want to be with them. I hunger to belong and be that accepted,
again.
Yet, I feel God’s
encouragement and love. So while weary,
I plod along, one foot in front of the other, slowed by grief but hopeful that
I will see them all again, one day, after this great adventure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pondering
Points
1
Thess 4:13-14
13
Brothers and sisters, we want you to know about people who have died so that
you won’t mourn like others who don’t have any hope. 14 Since we believe that
Jesus died and rose, so we also believe that God will bring with him those who
have died in Jesus.
John
14:1-3
1Do
not be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. 2 My Father’s house has room
to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to
prepare a place for you? 3 When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return
and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vmcEQz1ny4 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4vmcEQz1ny4
