Authors: Melody Carlson
After several days, Uncle Garth finished his woodworking project and began to introduce me to the various things to see down here. He has a “lady friend” named Anna Lee who comes along. But as far as I can tell, they're not romantically involved-^just really good friends. So far we've been to several animal refuges, where I've seen some amazing birds and things and gotten some incredible photos. We've also gone fishing a few times—right out on the ocean, which was totally amazing.
And Uncle Garth and Anna Lee showed me the best place to snorkel, and I bought some of those disposable cameras that work underwater. And last week I started taking scuba lessons from the shop that's run by Anna Lee's son, Jacob, and I will become “certified” tomorrow after I take my open water dive test. So it's not like I've had lots of time to sit around and feel sorry for myself.
In the spare time I do have—when I'm not helping Grandma in the kitchen or garden or with any of the other various household chores—I've been getting in a lot of reading. My favorite spot to read is the swing on the screened-in front porch. And Grandma has this great collection of old books. My favorites have been by Gene Stratton-Porter. At first they seemed kind of old-fashioned
and quaint, but after I got used to her style, I began to almost imagine that I was living in some of the stories. Especially in “Girl of the Limberlost.”
It's also helped me to get over my fear of crawly things. I've actually learned to appreciate the beauty in things like centipedes and salamanders. And Uncle Garth is great at recognizing wildlife. He's given me several books with great photos to study.
I feel like I can just be myself here. And I'm more relaxed than I've been in ages. It's as if I can breathe again. As a result, I have become much less obsessed with some of the stuff that's going on back at home. I still e-mail Dad, Matthew, Natalie, and Maya, but it's not like I'm so immersed in their lives and their problems anymore. And the weird thing is, their lives seem to be getting better—without me. Go figure.
Dad has started going to a therapy group for people who've lost loved ones to cancer. Maya has been in contact with her famous dad, telling him that her mom is having some problems. Matthew is pretty much having a good time touring Europe, and his e-mails have become fewer and shorter—but instead of freaking over this, I'm just realizing that it's okay. And my e-mails to him are similar. Does this mean we're breaking up? I don't think so. But I'm not going to obsess about it. Time will tei
Unfortunately, Nat just seems to be stuck, like she's in a holding pattern. She still hasn't told her mom or Ben
or anyone else—besides the people at Haven, that is. Although she said that all her jeans are too tight now and she's having to wear sweats and is worried someone's going to guess.
There's only one thing that's really bothering me since I've come down here, and that's my relationship with God. It's like its still going slightly sideways on me. Like I can't quite grasp what it is I'm doing wrong, and I don't know how to fix it. So I've just sort of let it go. Not that I've quit believing in God. That's not it at all. But it's like I've quit trying so hard. And sometimes I feel guilty because I'm not praying as much as I used to pray. And I've only read the Bible a couple of times since I got here. And I haven't gone to any form of fellowship—not even a church service.
Uncle Garth and Grandma don't go to church. But as far as I can tell, based on things they've said, they are both believers. And I've seen my grandma reading her Bible sometimes. I've considered asking them about their faith, but I'm worried that I'll seem intrusive or nosy. It's like their faith is just this quiet thing—its there, but they don't speak of it much.
The strange thing about all this is that I don't feel extremely worried about it. I get this feeling that God is up to something, that He has me here for a reason, and that everything is going to be fine. I can't even explain how I know this. Maybe it's just a peace that's deep down inside of me.
Tuesday, July 2
I called Dad yesterday afternoon. I just wanted to hear his voice and to tell him that I got certified for scuba diving.
“Congratulations!” he told me. “I'm proud of you, Km.”
“It was so cool, Dad. I wasn't even scared. And it's so great going down under the water. So much quieter than snorkeling. Like a whole different world.”
“Sounds great, sweetie.”
“I wish you could come to Grandma's,” I said suddenly. “Hey, why don't you take some time off, have a little vacation?”
“I'd love to, Km, but you know that I used up all my vacation time…and then some.”
“Yeah,” I said, remembering how Dad had taken Mom and me on some special trips before she died.
“Well, maybe you and I can come back here some other time,” I told him. “And you can get certified for scuba.”
“I've heard of a class here at the community college. They hold it at the pool and then you go to the lake for your final dive.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah,” he said and his voice was enthusiastic, almost happy even. “That would be cool.”
So I continued telling him about some of the strange sea creatures I saw today, and he sounded really
interested, like he really would like to come down here and try this out, as well as to get reacquainted with Garth and his mom. He almost sounded like my old dad, the one I knew before Mom got sick.
“When do you think you'd like to come home?” he asked in a hesitant tone. We were just getting ready to say good-bye.
“I don't know for sure.”
“You've been having such a great time…” He paused. “I wasn't sure if you ever wanted to come back.”
“Oh, Dad.”
“And I really want you to stay as long as you like, Kim. I think it's been a healthy break for you. And I know Mom and Garth love having you around. The last time I spoke to Mom she was gushing about what a terrific girl you are. Not that I don't agree, of course.”
“Actually, I was starting to feel like maybe it was time to come home,” I admitted. “But it'll be hard to leave this place. I feel so incredibly comfortable here. It's odd, like I just kind of fit in—and yet it's so totally different than home. Isn't that weird?”
“I don't know, Kim. But I believe the change has been just what you needed. I'm glad you're down there.”
“Well, for sure I don't want to come home before the Fourth of July celebration on Thursday. Both Grandma and Uncle Garth say it's something you don't want to miss. But maybe after that…”
“Want me to look into scheduling your return ticket for this weekend?” He sounded hopeful now, and I wondered if he'd been missing me more than he let on.
“Sure, Dad. That sounds great.”
So it was settled. He'd get back to me with the details. But after we hung up, I wasn't so sure that I was quite ready to go home yet.
And when I told Grandma and Uncle Garth about this decision, they were clearly disappointed.
“But you just got here,” said Grandma.
“And you just got your scuba certificate,” said Uncle Garth.
“I know, but I think my dad might be lonely.”
“Oh, well,” said Grandma quickly. “Then it's understandable.”
Uncle Garth nodded. “Yeah, it's not good to be lonely”
Friday, July 5
I can't believe that I'll be leaving here tomorrow morning. Part of me is excited to get home, to see my friends, and get back to my old life again. But another part of me is sad. I feel like I could just stay here forever. Although I suspect that may be a bit of escapist thinking—like I'm scared to go back and face my life. I still remember what Nat said—how lucky I was to be able to run away from my problems. And maybe that's not completely untrue. But then everyone needs to take a break sometimes.
The fireworks display over the bay was absolutely fantastic last night. We fixed a picnic dinner and rode into town in Grandma s Cadillac, getting ourselves a good spot close to the water where we set up lawn chairs. I was surprised at how many people stopped by to say hello. I didn't realize that Grandma had so many friends. And of course, Uncle Garth's friends came by too. But I know most of them by now. They're just regular folks who work here and there in town, leading simple lives, who are pretty laid back and easygoing. It really is a different world, and I think the rest of the world could learn a thing or two from it. Like how to relax and just lighten up.
I felt sad as I packed my things tonight—sorry that this would be the last time (at least for this summer) that I'd get to stay in my little seashell room, listening to the frogs and crickets and all the other wildlife critters that live on the other side of the screened window. But I felt something else too. I wasn't even sure what it was at first, but it's like something was gnawing at me, just beneath my skin. Not literally, of course, that would be creepy. But something was tugging at me, nudging me, nagging at me to pay attention.
Finally, I got everything packed and ready to go. And I was just standing here in this sweet little room, looking around and trying to figure out what was bothering me. What was it?
And then, almost as if I was having a panic attack, my heart started pounding hard. I put my hand on my
chest just to see if it was real or something I was imagining. But I could feel it—its as if I was ready for something to happen—like fight or flight, the adrenaline rush that energizes you to do something. I just didn't know what. So I stood there quietly waiting. Feeling as if the roof was about to cave in. Or an earthquake. Or perhaps an alligator going to bust through my door and take a bite of me.
And then I knew—somehow deep inside me I knew—it was God. Its like He was trying to get my attention. And although I had no idea why this would be happening to me, I knew without doubt that I wanted to listen. And so I actually got on my knees. Right there on the wood plank floor, I knelt down and closed my eyes and I waited.
Now I know this might sound hokey or phony or just plain bizarre, and I'm not even sure that I want to tell anyone about all the details yet, besides writing them in my diary, but I felt as if God reached down in that very moment and just touched me, right on the top of my head. There was this hot feeling, almost like electricity, that ran right through me. And somehow I knew that it really was God, that He was touching me. And somehow I knew, and I totally believe, that He was empowering me. Just like that.
I stayed on my knees for a while, just thanking God and praising Him for whatever it was He was doing, and finally I knew it was time to stand up. So I opened my eyes and looked around, but everything in my room
seemed the same as before. Everything in its proper place. The only thing that seemed different was me.
I felt this rush of hope and excitement, like I was on the verge of something powerful and wonderful—a crossroads of sorts. And for the first time since accepting Christ last fall, I felt like I really had God's power running through me, bolstering me up. Did that mean I could do miracles, like moving mountains or making blind men see? Well, I don't know about that. But I felt like whatever kind of power He was giving me, it was going to be life changing. And perhaps even more important, I realized that God would be the One in control. Not me. This wasn't up to me. And that was an enormous relief.
So then I unzipped my carry-on bag and pulled out the Bible I'd already packed. I could remember reading the part where Jesus' disciples had been waiting for Him to reappear after He'd risen from the dead. I knew it was in the New Testament, as I recalled it came directly after the gospels.
I finally found what I was looking for in the first two chapters of Acts. And as I read about the people gathered together, just praying and waiting, I could understand (in a small way) what was happening. And I could relate to how God's power, His Holy Spirit, just swept through that place and how everyone in there was changed—and empowered. It made perfect sense to me. And I believe that God has filled me with His Holy Spirit—in much the same way.
Okay, I haven't discovered any ability to speak in a
foreign language, but I'm open. Mostly I just know that God is REAL, that He is changing me, and that He's going to do something amazing in my life. I just know it. And best of all is that HE'S going to do it. Not me. This isn't up to me. I just need to be ready, to be listening, to be available. And I think I can do that. I really do.
Saturday, July 6
I was flying high when the plane took off from Naples this morning.
“You sure look happy today, Kim,” Uncle Garth had commented as he drove us, speeding again, to the airport. “You must be glad to be going home.”
“That's not it,” I told him and Grandma.
“What is it then?” Grandma asked from the backseat.
“Well, I'm sure part of it is because I've had such a great visit here. But I also feel excited about what God is doing in my life.”
“What s He doing?” Uncle Garth asked as he passed a farm truck.
“I'm not totally sure,” I admitted. “But I just have a feeling that He's got some really great things ahead for me.”
“I'm sure you're right,” said Grandma. “I think God has big plans for you, Kmmy I'm just so glad that you got to come out here and see us for a spell. And I hope you'll keep in touch. Almost makes me want to get a computer like you use to send that electric mail.”
I laughed. “E-mail. Well, don't worry. I can write real letters too. And I promise that I will.”
“Good,” said Grandma. “I reckon I'm too old to figure out these modem contraptions anyway. And I do love getting letters in the mail.”
I hugged them and thanked them at the front door to the airport. “You don't need to come inside. I'll be just fine.”
“Such a grown-up young lady,” Grandma said as she pinched my cheek. “Can't say I fattened you up any. But your color is good.”
“Thanks.”
“Get that package from the trunk,” Grandma said suddenly. “I almost forgot.”
Uncle Garth ran to the back of the car and returned with a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string.
“What is it?” I asked as I tucked the soft package under my arm.