Musing #10 - "In His Hands" Chapter 5

Good morning all, and welcome to my tenth musing - the fifth chapter of In His Hands. Enjoy! 

Chapter 5

“The train is...gone?" Eliza squeaked.

 My head jerked up. "This is all your fault!" 

“My fault? No, if anything, it was Rosie’s fault!" Eliza jammed her hands on her hips. "She ran away."
   “You were the one who wanted to get off the train,” I pointed out.

“Rosie was the one who ran away,” Eliza repeated, her voice hot. “If she hadn’t run off, we wouldn’t have followed her.”

"Not my fault!" Rosie screeched, balling her tiny fists. "Me not do anything."

Ignoring Rosie, I continued to argue with Eliza.“If you hadn’t wanted to pick flowers, we would be on the train right now, safe and sound.”

“Stop yelling at me!” Eliza snapped. “It’s not my fault. If you think about it, it’s not anybody’s fault but yours.”

“Mine?”

“Yes, yours. You’re in charge. You’ve told Rosie and me that over and over. Ultimately, it was your choice to get off the train, your choice to run after Rosie, your choice even to rush back to the train.” Eliza folded her arms and regarded me with a cold expression. “Now what, Miss In-Charge?”

At Eliza’s words, the awful realization finally dawned on me. Eliza was right. It was my fault. I’m the one responsible. I’m the one behind all of this.

My tears spilled. I didn’t hold them back. “I’m sorry,” I told Eliza. “You’re right.”

Rosie was immediately subdued by my tears. She threw her arms around me and whispered, “Don’t cry, Sue.”

Eliza, meanwhile, didn’t seem quite so forgiving. She sank to the ground and fiddled with her braid, her face set in stone.

For a moment, all three of us were silent.

At last, Eliza muttered, “What do we do now?”

I took a deep breath and swiped at my tears. “We walk.”

“Walk?” Eliza’s head whipped around. “All the way to Fresno?” A smile split her face. “All-righty!”

I laughed. My fun-loving little sisters never passed up an opportunity for adventure.

“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
   We rose to our feet and brushed off our dresses. Eliza grabbed one hand; Rosie grasped the other.

Together, we set off.

I smiled inwardly. The prospect of an unexpected, long walk had done a quick job of pushing the girls’ grief to the back of their minds. It was obvious that they were tired of always bumping around in train cars and never feeling the sunshine on their faces.

Only one moment later, even my mental smile vanished like morning dew. What would Mama and Pa say if they saw this?

My gaze darted from Eliza’s dark, bent head to Rosie’s lighter, uplifted one. I will tell Mama and Pa of this accident, of course. But when I do…I squeezed my sisters’ hands. I’ll have both girls with me.

***

“Me hungry.”

I sighed. How many times is Rosie going to say that? “I know, sweetie,” I said, keeping my voice light. “I am, too.”

“How long will this walk be?” Eliza demanded. Her earlier excitement had begun to wear off. She was used to hard work from being on our farm, but this long walk seemed to be too much for her. Several times, she had complained of aching feet and empty belly.

I sighed again. “I don’t know.” All I knew was that we were following the train tracks—in hopefully the right direction.

“Me tired,” Rosie moaned. Her lip trembled. “Me want Mama!”
   “Oh, Rosie…” I leaned forward to whisper in Eliza’s ear, “Act happy. Don’t scare Rosie any more than need be.”

Eliza nodded. “C’mon, Rosie,” she said. “You’re a big girl, and you told Mama and Pa you’d be good for Sue.” She tapped her cheek in thought. “I know! Let’s pretend we’re explorers. We’re wandering about in search of new, undiscovered creations.”

Rosie’s eyes grew wide. The idea seemed to appeal to her. “Es-plorers?” she repeated.

Eliza nodded. “Yep!”

“Yay!” Rosie leaped with excitement. “Me an es-plorer, Sue,” she shouted.

I grinned. “So you are.”

As Eliza and Rosie talked in lovely tones of finding “fishes” and “birdies,” I bit my lip and struggled with my not-so-pleasant thoughts. I was scared half to death. I had no idea of how long it would take to walk all the way to Fresno. I was certain, however, that we wouldn’t catch up with the train, much less beat it to Fresno. Grandmother and Grandfather would get worried. They’d telegram Mama and Pa, and they would become scared, too.

I groaned. This is not good.

Mentally, I was kicking myself. How could I have been so foolish as to leave the train?

How many times had I asked myself that question? I wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. That silly choice of mine couldn’t be taken back now.

The best thing to do is to press onward. Tears welled, but I swallowed them. Stay strong. Stay brave. You’re mature, reliable Susan. You can do this.

No, you can’t.

I cringed. Why did that taunting voice always have to cut in?

               Just like that, I knew why. I gasped. Because I really and truly can’t do it. At least, not alone. I looked up. “I can’t do it without You, God,” I whispered aloud.

               A fresh wave of guilt swept over me. Other than a few hasty prayers, I hadn’t spent much time with my Savior. Not in His Word. Not in strength-and-life giving prayer. I’d been too focused on the thought that I, Susan Grace Harris, could do this task all by herself. I was like a stubborn five-year-old, digging in my heels and shouting, “I don’t need your help with this burden, Daddy! I can do it myself.”

               I shuddered. But I can’t.

               My prayer of a week and a half ago came to my mind: Oh, Jesus, give me strength, please. I can’t do this alone.

               After that, I hadn’t begged once for His help. Why? Because I’d let success and pride go to my head, and I’d trusted in my strength alone.

               That, let me assure you, never works.

               A tear slipped as I whispered, “I’m sorry, God. I haven’t spent the time I should’ve with you over the last week and a half. It’s been me, me, me.”
               I looked at the girls. “Eliza, Rosie.”

               They looked up at me. “Yes?” they said in unison.

               “Come with me.” I led them a little distance from the tracks and sat them down. “We’re gonna pray.”

               “Pray?” Eliza queried.

               “Yes, pray. We can’t do this on our own strength.” I bowed my head. “Lord Jesus, we need you now. I’m sorry it took a matter like this to bring us to You.”

               “Yes, Lord, please help,” Eliza added.

               “Please help!” Rosie chimed in.

               “Give us strength, wisdom, and guidance, please, God,” I begged.

               “Please,” Eliza repeated.

               “Please!” Rosie cried.

               “In Jesus’s Name…”

               “Amen!” burst from three throats.

               I lifted my head and smiled. “I feel much better now, don’t you?”

Two heads bobbed in agreement.

              

***

   “Sue.”
               I turned. “Yes, Eliza?”

   “I was just thinking. Do you remember the verse Mama gave us and told us to memorize?”

   I smiled in the darkness that’d settled over us in early night. “That depends. She gives us so many.”

   “The one from…” In the few faint rays of the moon, Eliza’s brow scrunched up in thought. “Joshua, I think. Joshua one nine.”

   “Hmm…Yes! Yes, I do. ‘Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed; for the LORD thy God goes with thee whithersoever thou goest.’”

   I could hear Eliza suck in a deep breath. “Do you have that courage?” she asked softy.

   I thought a moment. Rosie wriggled, and I shifted her to a more comfortable position in my arms. She’d been asleep on my shoulder for the past few—minutes, maybe? “I’d like to think I do, Eliza,” I finally said.

   “I want it.” Eliza shuddered. “I’m scared, Sue. I’ve never been so scared. It’s dark. It’s cold. I’m hungry. I—I want Mama!” Tears stole down her cheeks. She shivered.

   “I know.” My heart broke at her tears. Eliza was like Rosie—she never cried.

   However, I felt like crying, too. Mama and Pa wouldn’t leave my mind. Mama’s words of two weeks ago came back to me.

   “Mama,” I’d asked, “will you be all right while we’re gone?”

   “Of course, sweetheart,” Mama had answered reassuringly, “Pa will be here.” Here, she smiled. “And so will Jesus. He never leaves us nor forsakes us. You know that, Sue.” It was then that she’d grasped both of my hands and prayed for me. The tender, warm feeling of her touch, and her sweet voice ringing over me in fervent prayer would be an ever-remaining memory in my mind.

   What if…I choked. What if that’s the last time Eliza, Rosie, and I ever see her? Or…Pa? My steady-as-a-rock, understanding father—had he helped me out of the wagon for the last time, that day he took us to the train station? Would I never again hear his deep, rumbly voice say, “Good night, Sue. I love you,” or feel his arms about me in a loving hug?

   Do you remember what Mama prayed for you?

   I started. I could remember her voice, her sincerity. But what had she said? I thought hard. Suddenly, it clicked.

   “Dear Jesus, you’re always with my darling daughter. Help her always to know that. Life’s trials are rough, but if my Susan is as deeply rooted in You as I think she is, she can make her way through the worst trials. She can cling to You, to Your Word, to Your voice. Help her, Jesus, please, as I let her go, as she grows more like a lady every day of her life.”

   I bit my lip and struggled to control my tears. I’m sorry, Mama, I wanted to cry aloud. I haven’t spent time with my Savior as I ought to have. I thought I could do this all on my own strength. But I can’t! I can’t!

   And you already figured that out, a soft, comforting voice replied. You’ve realized it and apologized. You’ve tried to make it right. You’ve prayed.

   I relaxed some. That’s right. And I’m gonna keep on praying. Deep inside, I felt a burden lift from my heart. With God, I can do this. I won’t give into any of these doubts. I need to stay strong for the girls’ sake. The only way to do that is to rely fully on God and trust in His steadfast love. He’s forgiven me for neglecting Him. Thank You, God.

   “Sue.”

   I jumped. “Eliza?”

   “What are you thinking about?”

   “Something.” I didn’t want to go into details, and Eliza didn’t press.

   “I was thinking about Mama and Pa,” she said instead. “Do you suppose that Mama has had the baby yet?”

   “No. She told me the doctor predicted she wouldn’t until after we’d arrived in California…maybe a few days after.”

   “Hm.” Eliza nodded. “I hope they’re all okay.”

   “Me too.” I sighed and again shifted my hold on Rosie. My sister squirmed and buried her face deeper into my shoulder.

   “Are you going to carry Rosie all night?” Eliza asked.

   “If it’ll keep her asleep, yes. I don’t want her to say she’s hungry or scared a hundred times. I feel bad enough as is.”

   Eliza’s hand grabbed my arm and squeezed. “We’ll make it, Sue.”

   “I sure hope so.” I shook my head. “But how? We have no transportation. No food. No—”

   “We have Jesus,” Eliza cut in with a firm tone of voice. Her words reminded me of what I’d thought of only a moment ago.

“What does Mama tell us over and over?” Eliza went on. “‘Jesus is enough.’ That’s what she always says. And He truly is enough, Sue. He’ll help us complete this mission, and we’re gonna keep on doing what we’re doing—pressing forward. We’ll follow those train tracks until we finally reach Fresno. No matter what.”

In His Hands © 2018 Ellen Senechal