My room was transformed into a recording studio by Lauryn and Taylor today. She’d asked me to come with her to record again, and I’d explained how Papa likes to keep us nearby on Saturday, but offered our home. Which offer was accepted eagerly. We’ll see if the eagerness was amply rewarded. Those two are honestly the funniest pair ever: Lauryn so exuberant, bouncy, dizzy and perfectly adorable, Taylor so dry, deliberate, cautious and almost intimidating, both absolutely brilliant.
After a pleasant day of work (Lauryn makes the whole house smile), Papa and I mounted the motorcycle and went exploring through the backroads of D-town. Warmth, tranquility, beauty surrounded us everywhere, reflecting the emotions in my heart.
The little S kids welcomed me with open arms this afternoon when I arrived to babysit for the evening. Em is a little jewel, and JPl is always pleasant and affectionate. Those twins are as swiftly changing as highschool fads--just like most girls. S was precious, eager to obey my every request, anxious to apologize anytime she felt she had wronged me, gentle and kind to all. H was a study in contradictions: bad tempered, violent and rude—half of the time. The rest of the time she was very pleasant. Miss J wanted them kept up until she and Dr D got home, which proved to be nine o’clock, by which time we were all beginning to drag. While reading to them at one point, H stood up and kicked JP—for absolutely no reason. Immediately I quit reading, took her away a little ways, picked up a pillow and said, “Don’t kick people. If you want to kick, kick this.” She looked up at me, confused for a moment. “Start kicking,” I said, firmly, but quietly. The others were watching in mystified silence by this time. She began kicking, hard, quickly. “You can hit it, too,” I added. She punched as well. Even turned over and donkey kicked it. A few minutes later she had worn down and sat down smiling, sucking her thumb. “If you want to kick something,” I said, “You may kick the pillow.” I didn’t notice any more violence after that point. Somehow she must have had built up frustration or energy that she just needed to release. I don't think sitting still was the answer. Energy has to come out somehow.
Driving 164 home in the dark is exhilarating. The curves, the emptiness, the darkness—all the very things that probably make it dangerous, also make it delightful, somehow. Miss J sent me her phone, in case something should happen, and strict orders to call them when I reached home. There’s just something unique about feeling just the least bit scared and knowing that my God can take care of me. Perhaps it’s foolish, but He can.
Now, the trick is applying that to my spiritual life. Learning to be excited by the fact that I can only see a little ways ahead of me. Knowing that I should trust the Lord to illumine the path as I continue walking. And then walking ahead, taking each curve, one step at a time, knowing the Lord will guide and protect.
Lord, the darkness need not frighten
When I have Thy light hid within
Thou will strengthen and protect me
All my trust is safe placed in Thee.
Thou dost search the deepest cavern
In the darkness doth Thy truth burn
Thou descends to touch the mountain.
Him Thou planteth, none confound Him.
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