We were desert dwellers from Arizona in the dense woods of Pennsylvania. Night had fallen and we weren't sure where we were. As the navigator on our long car travels, I had always prided myself on being very map-savvy, but it was obvious that I had caused us to make a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

The dark, towering trees lining both sides of the two-lane highway seemed to press in on us and created an impenetrable maze from which we felt we'd never emerge. With each bend in the road came the hope that the lights of civilization would welcome us as a beacon. Turn after turn after turn served only to draw us farther and farther into the forest's dark depths. As if this wasn't enough, our old van had developed a loud rattle and, on one of the many sharp curves of the highway, we heard a metal part go ting, ting, tinging away into the black night. It was the first time I was more worried that a rattle on the van had stopped than that it had existed at all.

...I've thought of that night often whenever I've faced a move or had to step into any situation where I can't see around the bend in the road. Always hopeful that the next bend would reveal a wide open valley and a view to the horizon, more often than not my view would be limited to the distance to the next bend or the even more limited view illuminated by my headlights.

Whether I know the next 10 miles or quarter mile of my journey, I know who holds the travel itinerary. Better than a AAA triptych, wiser than a ship's captain, and more knowledgeable than an air traffic controller, God can be trusted with my life's journey.

Ann Kelley - An Arizona NEWcomer