It's Been a Long Time Since a Train Traveled on this Track
Woodbine, Georgia
1 May 2011
Joshua 24:17 NIV
"It was the LORD our God himself who brought us and our fathers up out of Egypt, from that land of slavery, and performed those great signs before our eyes. He protected us on our entire journey and among all the nations through which we traveled."
Since childhood, when I spent time at my grandparents' house in Farmersburg, Indiana, I've always been emotionally reassured by the blast of a train whistle, which has always been symbolic for me of my family's love.
At night in Farmersburg, as my family were sleeping in rooms throughout the house, I'd hear the rumble of the train and the mournful call of the whistle and dream of far away places I could travel. At the same time, I always felt warm, loved and secure in my grandparents' modest home.
My emotional attachment to a train's blast has not eased through the decades. No matter what I'm doing, when I hear the call of a train, I'm soothed and comforted.
This meant the most to me after my folks deposited me at my dorm room as a freshman in college.
I had signed up to play trombone in marching band, which meant I arrived a week before the regular students to attend band camp.
Mom and dad had bravely made the drive from Cincinnati to Richmond, Kentucky with me, their eldest, and if they were sad to leave me, they put on a good act for me. I tried to hide my emotions as well.
They helped me place snack items in my closet shelves and made sure I had everything out of the trunk and back seat of the car. Once they said goodbye and left, I wanted to hurry after them, though, because I suddenly panicked and felt quite alone and unsure of myself.
To perk myself up, I left the room to explore campus, which was eerily empty, like a ghost town. When I returned to my room, I reached for the only food I knew how to cook, a box of pop tarts. I had already opened an envelope, so I reached for the remaining pop tart, nibbled on it, and simultaneously dropped it and screamed.
Crawling on the pop tart, my hand, the floor, my bed, and making a path up the wall into my closet was an army of black ants. I had drawn them in by leaving the envelope of pop tarts open.
I found bug spray and killed all I could. Next, I lay down on my bed and cried. I asked God what I had gotten myself into. I pleaded to go back home. I told him I missed my mom and dad and didn't think I could do this on my own.
As I was immersed in my pity party, I heard a sound I knew well: A blast of a train whistle cutting through the evening. I don't believe in coincidences. God knew I needed a hug right then. I calmed down immediately.
I brushed myself off, cleaned my room, checked for ants and made sure all my food was closed tightly. I went out of my dorm this time to find people so I wouldn't be alone.
I wandered toward the fountain near the chapel. If nothing else, I could continue to pray. As I neared the fountain, I heard two guitars playing softly from a distance. I followed their siren song and met two seniors, Rick and Tom. I discovered what was to be a wonderful weekend routine.
Rick and Tom sang at the fountain for those of us who could not go home on weekends. They were my first friends at Eastern.
A small group of band members joined around them that night, and I met friends I would spend the year with.
God worked a miracle on my attitude and helped me make it through my first night at college with the blast of a train whistle.
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Lord, thank you for the signs you send me to help me through difficult times.
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