I hate these kinds of days, the kinds of days when you have nothing to do. Yet they always seem to follow me, being in a military family. You never have anything to do when you move about six times year. No friends, no old hideaways, just me and my thoughts. You know how that is. One thought leads to another, and you start thinking about your old church or a girlfriend you had to break up with because you were moving twelve hours away. That always happens to me. I always end up thinking about the past and what could have been, never what is or what could be. I end up like Jacob, wrestling with God. Its not like I'm questioning Him per say, its just that I wonder. Wonder why He makes me move all the time, why I constantly have to adjust, feeling awkward in almost any social situation. Unneeded. You have no idea how many times I've said, "Hey, my name is Joe." Joe stands for Joel, it means "the Lord is God." But eventually I always turn back to God. I remember this, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own your own understanding; In all ways acknowledge Him, and he will direct your path." Proverbs 3: 5-6 (NKJV). Whenever I read this it helps me realize that while I may be master of myself I am not the master of my soul. Plus, reading the Bible gives me something to do.

It’s the first day of high school in the new school. Don’t ask me the name of the school because I honestly don't know. Truthfully I couldn't even tell you what base we're on. It doesn’t matter anyway, we'll be at another base in a couple of months. One thing is always the same with a new school though, The Eyes. I'm used to them by now, but it doesn't mean that I don't feel them. The Whispers are ever present too. I've developed an

uncanny, and unwanted, sixth sense for deciphering the hushed words. You always hear gossip no matter what high school you're in, but I always hear things like, "Is that a New Kid?", or "Who is that?" I muddle through my classes, receiving more than satisfactory grades, but it doesn't matter. The grades will just get transferred to another school when I move. There's usually at least one kid in every class that comes up and introduces themselves. It typically goes something like this "Hey my name is ___. What's yours?" I tell them my name is Joe and they introduce me to their friends. They always smile and wave meekly. We have a good conversation, but that’s usually as far as the friendship lasts. They typically forget about the New Kid within a couple days. The ones that don't however, they're special. Like Abigail.

She didn't forget about me. She made me feel secure, like I mattered. Those deep green eyes were like emeralds that told me everything was going to be alright. Even though I already knew that, in my heart of hearts it was nice to have a physical reassurance. Her shampoo always smelled of watermelon, reminding me of a simpler life I never had. She filled the crack in my faith with putty. Abigail was just as religious as I was, maybe even more so- you have to be when you move around as much as we do, or you'll fall apart. She ended up moving a week after I did. I guess it just God's way of telling us we're not meant to be together. "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, thoughts to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11. I just have to accept this as fact, however unsavory that may be, not understand it.

Its that acceptance that keeps me going. I don't need to understand everything, because its not for me to understand. So meanwhile, I keep my head held high, always

thinking about her-the unattainable. I torture myself like that. It's almost as if I enjoy reminding myself that the one thing I truly want can never be mine. Love. Sometimes I'll catch glimpses of her. I'll see that lovely shade of chocolate hair flowing in the wind. I see that deep, yet soft green everywhere I go, which will eternally bring up bittersweet memories. I always catch myself daydreaming, imagining her image in a cloud. Quickly shaking it off, I remind myself it could never be.

I'm finally getting used to this place. Its not enough for me to call it a home, but its more than a house. But mom just told me that we were moving again. I knew it wouldn't last.

Something was different this time though. Instead of just telling me that we were moving, she said that this would be the last move in the foreseeable future. So now I have to pack. It’s a routine I'm used to, considering the number of times I've done it. This time however, I feel a sense of optimism. Maybe its because this could be the last time I have to do this. Maybe its because this time I can actually make connections. I don't know why I feel this way, but I like it. For the first time in a long time I actually feel, happy.

It’s the first day at the new school. Correction, it’s the last first day at the new school. I walk through the halls with a new perception. I still feel The Eyes and hear The Whispers but their not as condemning; they used to be a sign of what was to come, now they are a sign of what could be changed. The first three periods were uneventful. The same old routine of people introducing themselves, however this time I am more open in the conversation. I reveal information I previously would have guarded. These people might not forget the New Kid.

As I walk into fourth period, I notice a girl with brunette hair. I brush it off, however, as another figment of my imagination as I could not see her face. I walk into the class and ask the teacher where I should sit and he gestures towards a seat near the back. As soon as I sit down I see a beautiful brunette walk into the room with that same chocolate hair. I can't believe my eyes, it couldn't possibly be. "Abigail?!?" I say above the class with a mixture of hope and humility. The brunette turns around and I look into a pair of beautiful, deep emerald eyes.

"Great is the Lord! He is most worthy of praise!

No one can measure his greatness." Psalm 145:3 (NLT)