We are going home. I guess I should rephrase to say we are returning home. "Going Home" for Christians has an entirely different - and eternal - meaning. But for us, it means the end of what Don and I have called our exile.
In the Old Testament, starting at 2 Kings, we see the Israelites sent packing by God out of their Land of Milk and Honey to set up camp as exiles in Babylon. While we in no way compare ourselves to these longsuffering - if stubborn and rebellious - people, the two of us struggled to describe our..."situation". We did not move back home. Maui has become our home. We certainly weren't on vacation. There are a lot more wayside adventures, amusement parks, and tourist traps on a vacation. It wasn't even our idea to come to the mainland at that time. Exile. Yup. And like the Israelites, we felt God's hand in all of it.
Like any difficult season, one is not the same as before the difficulties. Whether the changes are good or bad is largely up to the one enduring it. We have a little bit of bad, and (we pray), lots of good. Of the bad, most obvious is an increased....shall we say....thickness to Don and I. I am a foodie - love to cook, love to eat. Unfortunately, under stress I tend to use food for more than nutrition. On top of that, we are away from our favorite forms of exercise: walking the hills of Maui and snorkeling in her warm waters. This combo is not good. We intend to remedy that quickly.
The other bad thing isn't all bad. I feel a little residue of sadness, kind of an emotion scar, as it were. That's okay. I had a hard time coming to grips with that, since I should be over-the-moon happy, right? But just like the four inch scar I have on my leg reminds me NOT to enter rough, murky waters under which lava rocks lurk, this scar reminds me of the tenuous nature of my plans and the foolishness of thinking I can depend on those plans. This shadow also reminds me to never forget the sovereignty of Almighty God. I'm not saying I'm comfortable with this feeling, yet, but I understand its value.
The good stuff is that we absolutely have seen our marriage made so much stronger. We have seen a few ugly moments, but they were brief. For the most part, we feel a new appreciation for each other and a deeper companionship developed through this time. I have seen my husband's faith skyrocket - even as mine struggled, at times.
Another change I noticed in one of those "a-HA!" moments. I have read the book of James many, many times. I love it. Of course, the passage that begins at 1:2, with "Count it all joy, brethren, when you fall into various trials..." is not always met with enthusiasm by the reader (i.e. moi). I have not been in the least little bit joyful. But by reading further, James promises that these trials will lead to patience, and to let that patience have its "perfect work" in me. Later, in 4:13-16, James tell us to avoid saying what we are planning to do and just how much profit we will make and gee, aren't we wonderful. Okay. That last part I just sort of made up - but it's inferred. Anyway, James tells us to say rather that if GOD wills we will do - and fill in the blank with whatever you think your plans may be. It warns against the evil practice of boasting. It protects against the humiliation of looking like a fool when your plans fall apart. It clearly states who is in control of our lives, and to whom we should give the glory for any outcome. God is sovereign.
I finally, finally get it. I have developed a patience for waiting which is only possible because of this. I misinterpreted it, at first, as a strange lack of excitement on my part about going home. I have been known to get all in a tizzy knowing I'm going to Cool Cat for lunch or get my hair done, so this was troubling. But (a-ha!), I am waiting on God to tell me. I am waiting on God to show me. I am becoming patient. Not perfect, but patient. And this patience does not look at all like I thought it would. I do not have a sappy smile plastered on my face all the time. Smiling may not be appropriate. Persevering is hard. Refining hurts. One does not persevere through a day at the spa. A five-layer chocolate torte is in no way a trial or refining fire. Tough times are tough times. Period. And I find that I am done apologizing for not having a perky outlook when things are hard. That's just phony - and more than a little annoying. But, I have also found a deeper meaning of "joy". I have always known that joy is a deep abiding feeling that exists despite conditions, where happiness is always conditional. Thanks, Brother James. I get it!
But I am happy. We leave for Maui on Tuesday, September 13, 2011 - five months to the day of leaving our island home to our exile in Babylon. Though it may not have been our idea, we are so glad that God did what he did. We attended weddings, our son's graduation, a marriage retreat, saw the Grand Canyon, had another crazy road trip up here to Portland, during which we caught up with Cousins Judy and Pam and their respective families, and saw our dear friends, the Bradleys. We made a few new friends during these months. We also reveled in the energy and beauty of our two grandchildren, met our new great-niece, Avery, and hung out with Greg's new girlfriend (the lovely Sarah!). I doubt that the Israelites had it so good.
We are both so very, very happy to be returning home. We are so happy that, once again, God said "yes."
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Respite
respite |ˈrespət; riˈspīt|
noun
a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant
(sigh!) My computer is on our dinette in the rv, which means there isn't any dining going on at the dinette. It also means that I can look out a nice big window and see what there is to see. Tonight, I have the pleasure and blessing of watching sunset over Mission Bay. Tall and elegant palm trees make jet black silhouettes against brilliant pink and orange and coral swaths in a dove blue sky. ahhhh... My feet are are wearing the perfect amount of salt and sand, applied as Don and I sat in our beach chairs with our feets in the water of De Anza Cove in San Diego's Mission Bay. Respite. Respite from the desert.
As you recall from our last episode, we had returned to Hemet, CA for our free week in the trailer park. It actually wasn't that bad...much. But we had lovely triple digit weather to keep us toasty and ants to keep us company. We also had a fun side trip up to Idyllwild, a little town about 60 minutes away from, 5,000 feet higher than, and 20 degrees cooler than Hemet. There isn't a whole ton to do there, but it was a nice break - except for the cliff-hugging road that is about 6 inches wide and 5 miles up. Okay. Maybe I exaggerate...but not much. But we got there alive, and once Don coaxed me up from the floor of the car, we wandered around this cute mountain town. We opted to have lunch up in Idyllwild, said lunch being three of the most delicious chocolate truffles - each big enough for Don and I to have a hearty bite. Well....maybe I took two on the peanutbutter filled...but I did let Don have a quarter of it. Or was it a tenth?? At any rate, we got finished with our (ahem!) lunch, when Don got a call on his listing that has been in escrow since Larry King was a boy. Having left his computer behind, it meant that we had to go BACK down the cliff-hugging, 6 inch wide, 5 mile high road back to Hemet. I learned a couple of things during this trip: one, chocolate truffles make a very good lunch, and two, being in a flat desert has its benefits.
Before we moved to Hemet, we listed Don's car on Craig's list in two regions and on Auto Trader. We had a couple of interesting calls that went kafoof once they found out that one should not reasonably expect to buy a nice car for $12.06. After a week or so we got a call that was the real deal, and we made arrangements to meet this woman and her 81-year-old mom (who was the actual buyer) at the Downtown Disney parking lot - they live in Anaheim and Don and I were looking for another side trip. I figured this would also be a little less harrowing then careening around hairpin turns with two tires hanging off the side of the road. I was wrong. Anybody who has traveled on any one of the 8,104,932 freeways in Southern California knows that these roads are filled mile after mile and side to side with angry drivers who are apparently late for something and you are just in their way. Or, they are wannabe stock car drivers who chase perpetual checkered flags. At any rate, we were driving Don's pretty car, all shiny and clean, to meet her potential new mom.
I must confess that since being over on the mainland, knowing we were selling the car, we have been pretty much paranoia on wheels - and this day was no different. We prayed that no one would decide that this was the day to play bumper cars on the 91. We never thought about praying for protection from random little rocks being flung up from anonymous tires. Yup. Somewhere in Yorba Linda a little stone found its way to our windshield and left a dandy little nick, which promptly shot out little spider veins to the size of a quarter. Are ya kidding me!?!?!? Praise God for our modern electronics and the brainiacs who invented them. I got on the phone to a repair company who connected me to our insurance who found out that the first company couldn't do it immediately so he found me another one who would meet us in the parking lot of Downtown Disney, Anaheim, California. Whew!! We arrived in the parking lot, sweating each and every pot hole and speed bump. Shortly after, the potential buyers arrived, and took the car for a very tight spin in the lot, and then the repair guy showed up. Quick as a bunny, he had the windshield repaired, and he was gone. The potential buyers had left with the promise of calling the next day after they thought a little more. And Don and I were on our own. From the moment the rock went CRACK to the excitement being over was about one hour. Things here really are a very different pace than in Maui. Unfortunately, the very, very nice lady called me the next morning to tell me she decided to buy a new car instead of our lovely but used (and recently injured) car.
So, that brings us to here and now. Don thought we should head for San Diego for a week or so, to catch up on some business appointments and friends and family and all things San Diego. We had no reservations anywhere, but my sweet hubby was confident that we would find lodging. I don't like that. I like reservations. I like clear destinations. But after a couple of hours chilling in a parking lot on Mission Bay, we investigated a couple of places around the bay. A couple were less than appealing and practically sat between the 3 and 4 lanes of the I-5. Don remembered one hidden behind the mobile homes on a thumbprint of land on this lovely bay. Tah-dah!! The park itself is rather like a giant parking lot, but with uber big spots, and clean as a whistle. When the numbers are down, we have a gorgeous bay view, and every night, we take a walk around this thumbprint. Except for the high cotton, it might as well be the Summertime that George Gershwin wrote about in his song of that name - the living is easy and fish are certainly jumpin'! The bay is generally glassy at night, unless there is a faint ripple caused by breezes from the west. The quiet is broken by fish leaping up to the tiny bug buffet God has set out for them. After they grab a particularly yummy critter, they belly flop back into the water with a loud splash, leaving more ripples in concentric circles.
The mobile home that are on the other side of the walk are only mobile homes in the technical sense. Most of them have breathtaking views of the shimmering water and the lights from the city that are reflected. They all have these huge picture windows and large decks. Many have big gardens and one has a big topiary zoo in the front yard. We have passed by many folks as they sit on their decks, or innocently catch glimpses of them through their picture windows as they live this blessed life.
Before we came down here, we got another inquiry on Don's car. This guy seemed very legit, as he was asking questions that were pointed and knowledgeable. After a few more texts and phone conversations, he came with his wife to see the car, meeting us at the dealership where said vehicle was getting her 60,000 mile checkup. The guy talked to the mechanic, checked the records, already had the car fax, test drove it....and BOUGHT IT!! Yup! Finally!! This car which seemed to be more leper than Lexus found a new home. We are without a car for a few days until we rent one until we go home (very soon!), but there is a cool beach here, so why should we go anywhere!?!? Our Lexie II has a new mom and dad in Yuma, Arizona! HOT!! And, ironically, the 81-year-old lady's daughter called right after we made the deal. Seems that Mom changed her mind. Ah, well...
So, now we begin the mad dash to get ready to return to our island home. I'm not saying that we think the trial and challenges are over. Not even close. We know that we have a lot of hard work still ahead. We also know that the lack of such trials means that we are likely not of any significance to the enemy. This is not a good thing for a Christian. In the meantime, Don and I will revel in this respite.
I am finishing this at noon the day after I started it. No, it doesn't take me that long to write, I just wanted to eat and sleep and do other stuff. But now, it's bright and sunny and salt water and sand are calling to me (sigh!)
noun
a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant
(sigh!) My computer is on our dinette in the rv, which means there isn't any dining going on at the dinette. It also means that I can look out a nice big window and see what there is to see. Tonight, I have the pleasure and blessing of watching sunset over Mission Bay. Tall and elegant palm trees make jet black silhouettes against brilliant pink and orange and coral swaths in a dove blue sky. ahhhh... My feet are are wearing the perfect amount of salt and sand, applied as Don and I sat in our beach chairs with our feets in the water of De Anza Cove in San Diego's Mission Bay. Respite. Respite from the desert.
As you recall from our last episode, we had returned to Hemet, CA for our free week in the trailer park. It actually wasn't that bad...much. But we had lovely triple digit weather to keep us toasty and ants to keep us company. We also had a fun side trip up to Idyllwild, a little town about 60 minutes away from, 5,000 feet higher than, and 20 degrees cooler than Hemet. There isn't a whole ton to do there, but it was a nice break - except for the cliff-hugging road that is about 6 inches wide and 5 miles up. Okay. Maybe I exaggerate...but not much. But we got there alive, and once Don coaxed me up from the floor of the car, we wandered around this cute mountain town. We opted to have lunch up in Idyllwild, said lunch being three of the most delicious chocolate truffles - each big enough for Don and I to have a hearty bite. Well....maybe I took two on the peanutbutter filled...but I did let Don have a quarter of it. Or was it a tenth?? At any rate, we got finished with our (ahem!) lunch, when Don got a call on his listing that has been in escrow since Larry King was a boy. Having left his computer behind, it meant that we had to go BACK down the cliff-hugging, 6 inch wide, 5 mile high road back to Hemet. I learned a couple of things during this trip: one, chocolate truffles make a very good lunch, and two, being in a flat desert has its benefits.
Before we moved to Hemet, we listed Don's car on Craig's list in two regions and on Auto Trader. We had a couple of interesting calls that went kafoof once they found out that one should not reasonably expect to buy a nice car for $12.06. After a week or so we got a call that was the real deal, and we made arrangements to meet this woman and her 81-year-old mom (who was the actual buyer) at the Downtown Disney parking lot - they live in Anaheim and Don and I were looking for another side trip. I figured this would also be a little less harrowing then careening around hairpin turns with two tires hanging off the side of the road. I was wrong. Anybody who has traveled on any one of the 8,104,932 freeways in Southern California knows that these roads are filled mile after mile and side to side with angry drivers who are apparently late for something and you are just in their way. Or, they are wannabe stock car drivers who chase perpetual checkered flags. At any rate, we were driving Don's pretty car, all shiny and clean, to meet her potential new mom.
I must confess that since being over on the mainland, knowing we were selling the car, we have been pretty much paranoia on wheels - and this day was no different. We prayed that no one would decide that this was the day to play bumper cars on the 91. We never thought about praying for protection from random little rocks being flung up from anonymous tires. Yup. Somewhere in Yorba Linda a little stone found its way to our windshield and left a dandy little nick, which promptly shot out little spider veins to the size of a quarter. Are ya kidding me!?!?!? Praise God for our modern electronics and the brainiacs who invented them. I got on the phone to a repair company who connected me to our insurance who found out that the first company couldn't do it immediately so he found me another one who would meet us in the parking lot of Downtown Disney, Anaheim, California. Whew!! We arrived in the parking lot, sweating each and every pot hole and speed bump. Shortly after, the potential buyers arrived, and took the car for a very tight spin in the lot, and then the repair guy showed up. Quick as a bunny, he had the windshield repaired, and he was gone. The potential buyers had left with the promise of calling the next day after they thought a little more. And Don and I were on our own. From the moment the rock went CRACK to the excitement being over was about one hour. Things here really are a very different pace than in Maui. Unfortunately, the very, very nice lady called me the next morning to tell me she decided to buy a new car instead of our lovely but used (and recently injured) car.
So, that brings us to here and now. Don thought we should head for San Diego for a week or so, to catch up on some business appointments and friends and family and all things San Diego. We had no reservations anywhere, but my sweet hubby was confident that we would find lodging. I don't like that. I like reservations. I like clear destinations. But after a couple of hours chilling in a parking lot on Mission Bay, we investigated a couple of places around the bay. A couple were less than appealing and practically sat between the 3 and 4 lanes of the I-5. Don remembered one hidden behind the mobile homes on a thumbprint of land on this lovely bay. Tah-dah!! The park itself is rather like a giant parking lot, but with uber big spots, and clean as a whistle. When the numbers are down, we have a gorgeous bay view, and every night, we take a walk around this thumbprint. Except for the high cotton, it might as well be the Summertime that George Gershwin wrote about in his song of that name - the living is easy and fish are certainly jumpin'! The bay is generally glassy at night, unless there is a faint ripple caused by breezes from the west. The quiet is broken by fish leaping up to the tiny bug buffet God has set out for them. After they grab a particularly yummy critter, they belly flop back into the water with a loud splash, leaving more ripples in concentric circles.
The mobile home that are on the other side of the walk are only mobile homes in the technical sense. Most of them have breathtaking views of the shimmering water and the lights from the city that are reflected. They all have these huge picture windows and large decks. Many have big gardens and one has a big topiary zoo in the front yard. We have passed by many folks as they sit on their decks, or innocently catch glimpses of them through their picture windows as they live this blessed life.
Before we came down here, we got another inquiry on Don's car. This guy seemed very legit, as he was asking questions that were pointed and knowledgeable. After a few more texts and phone conversations, he came with his wife to see the car, meeting us at the dealership where said vehicle was getting her 60,000 mile checkup. The guy talked to the mechanic, checked the records, already had the car fax, test drove it....and BOUGHT IT!! Yup! Finally!! This car which seemed to be more leper than Lexus found a new home. We are without a car for a few days until we rent one until we go home (very soon!), but there is a cool beach here, so why should we go anywhere!?!? Our Lexie II has a new mom and dad in Yuma, Arizona! HOT!! And, ironically, the 81-year-old lady's daughter called right after we made the deal. Seems that Mom changed her mind. Ah, well...
So, now we begin the mad dash to get ready to return to our island home. I'm not saying that we think the trial and challenges are over. Not even close. We know that we have a lot of hard work still ahead. We also know that the lack of such trials means that we are likely not of any significance to the enemy. This is not a good thing for a Christian. In the meantime, Don and I will revel in this respite.
I am finishing this at noon the day after I started it. No, it doesn't take me that long to write, I just wanted to eat and sleep and do other stuff. But now, it's bright and sunny and salt water and sand are calling to me (sigh!)
Monday, August 15, 2011
Lord, This is NOT the "Go Back" Of Which We Were Speaking
Well, here we are (sigh!), back in the trailer park that we first landed in four months ago. The same sort of grim, barren trailer park - I mean RV Resort and Mobile Home Park. But it's free for a week, so ya gotta love that! It's their compensation for us after the power surge fiasco caused by their gardeners that blew out our tv and converter (which they did replace, pronto) and cost us serious buckage to replace the tv and have it reinstalled. We accept. Gratefully. But it isn't exactly what we had in mind when, in our heartfelt prayers, we asked God to let us "go back."
Four months and two days ago, Don and I were taking our last drive (for a while) in our little jeep along the highway toward the airport in Kahului, Maui. Our hearts, of course, were pretty much in pieces, but we could see God's hand all over it. We talked about how we had told the Lord that we wanted an "adventure", to which my beloved said to me, "well, next time, let's be SPECIFIC!!" So true, but it seems that we forgot to clarify once again.
It started last week when Don went in to reserve another month at the nice RV park by Kyle and Kristin. He came back with a buncha not-good news and some good news, which helped out the not-good. Seems that the park was not available for the next 29 days. W could pay for a few days at a time, but that becomes prohibitively expensive, but thanks to a couple of concerts (thanks a whole lot, Alan Jackson and Will Farrell), every weekend was sold out through August 28. BUT! On the way back from the office, bearing the burden of bad news he would have to tell to his wife, Don got a voicemail from the manager here at Golden Village offering the free week. God's timing. God's sense of humor.
We opted to stay in the parking lot for four nights - for free - then come out here to Hemet - for free - then back to the parking lot - for free. Do you detect a theme? Yes, free is good. Unfortunately, however, free usually comes with some drawbacks - which is generally why they are free.
Our first night was Thursday, and nice and quiet in an all but empty lot. This parking lot is next to the RV park, and across two large parking lots from Pechanga Casino, and is often the spot for RVers looking for a free spot for the night (or four) and long haul truckers looking for a respite from the road. Thursday night had only us, plus a couple of random cars whose owners needed a parking spot for...?? So, it was so nice and quiet. Then we turned on our generator and that took care of that whole quiet thing. But, we needed power for our tv and satellite and microwave and all. They may call it dry camping, but it bears as much resemblance to actual camping as a chihuahua does to a Saint Bernard - both are dogs, but there the similarities end. So, there we were in our metaphorical Saint Bernard, shutting it all down late at night and sleeping oh-so-late the next day. Hey, this may not be so bad.
We got some work done Friday morning, then headed out for a movie ("The Help" - GO SEE IT). This was Friday. We returned to our parking lot and were reminded. This was F-R-I-D-A-Y. There was a sign before we even got there that told employees to park all around that Winnebago over there. Okay. So the sign didn't exactly say that, but it might as well have. We asked one of the many shuttle drivers scooting around the lot picking up and dropping off if there was anything special going on this very busy night. he laughed and pointed out, "It's Friday." Okay, so maybe living in Maui has made us forget the magic of Friday since days seem to blend into one another in island time. But then he said something even more ominous, "But tomorrow there's some kinda comedy show at the outdoor stage." DUH-DUH-DUUUUUUUH!! (that's scary music in case you didn't recognize the tune).
Friday night was pretty noisy, with employees getting into their vehicles and driving off in a loud hurry, so we didn't feel exactly refreshed Saturday morning. These weekend days are pretty rough for me anyway, and boredom goes off the charts. It's almost impossible to do anything that does not cost some severe buckage or have half a million people involved or both. But we did figure out something to do. We went to the library to donate books, the grocery store, and Starbucks. Okay, so maybe we spent more at Starbucks than we should, but, c'mon! Starbucks!! We returned to find almost nooooooooo parking. We ended up parking quite a ways away, but at least we were on pavement. The last of the RVers had to park on dirt, as well as the latecomers to either work, the concert, or general festivizing-and-money-losing at the casino. Don and I took our nightly walk around what used to be our rv park, and then watched the traffic cops keep people from running into each other as the concert ended. We figured that the cars in the parking lot would eventually leave, and they did. The 6p.m.-2a.m. shift was done, and these good, hard-working people went to their cars and headed for home, calling all kinds of well wishes to one another...with loud enthusiasm. The 8p.m.-4a.m. shift ended, and the whole thing from two hours earlier was repeated, with the added entertainment of somebody needing a jump - two car spaces from us. The rest of the night - brief though it was - ended in relative quiet. We managed to stay awake through church, thanks to anther on-fire and on-point message, and then spent the afternoon with Kyle, Kristin, and the grandkiddies watching golf (WOW! Whadda finish!!), doing laundry, then babysitting so Mommy and Daddy could go see a movie like actual grown-ups.
We were looking forward to a return to the quiet parking lot of the first night, only to find that the lot had not one, two, or three big rigs, but SEVEN - including one right next to us and so close I half expected to find him in our bathroom. Resigned to the snugness of the situation, and the prospect of an early morning diesel start-up mere inches from our ears. We contemplated not using our generator, given the close quarters, but then we realized that these truckers are used to all kinds of noise, so we fired that bad boy up - only to find it was less of Bad Boy than it was an old man with emphysema. It coughed, sputtered, and quit. Oh no. No microwave. No satellite. NO TELEVISION!!! Now we were roughing it. Well, at least in our minds. My husband took his distraught spouse on our nightly walk, both of us playing with the idea of pulling into the park for just a one night stay, or even driving out to Hemet to pull in waaaay early. But it was almost 11:00 at night, and it would be even crazier than our usual level of crazy. So, we walked back to our quiet, powerless motorhome, parked next to a big rig. As we approached our coach, two things struck us: all these huge trucks with their trailers of goods behind them looked straight out of "Cars". We seriously thought they looked like they were going to start chatting with one another. Who knows, but maybe they did when we were not around??? I told you!! We were sleep deprived!! The other thing was as we got to our door, we heard the satisfied and comfortable snoring of the driver of the rig next to us. It reminded me of who was out there moving products around the country so we have full grocery shelves. hmmmm... We quietly retired and added these good people to our prayers. In the morning - very early - all but two of the trucks left, one after the other. But instead of letting their powerful diesels idle and warm up, they each left right away and as quietly as is possible for behemoths like these. Thanks, guys - and no sarcasm in my voice.
So, here we are. Back in the desert. I have found myself thinking of the wandering Israelites, and wondering if ever the women were harping at their husbands to pull over and ask for directions. Can't you hear it?? "Hey, hubby, isn't this the same rock we passed two days ago? Look! It still has our boy's 'Shelimelech was here' on it!" But they had to wait for their directions from God, and so do we.
But we are being much more specific in our prayers...
Four months and two days ago, Don and I were taking our last drive (for a while) in our little jeep along the highway toward the airport in Kahului, Maui. Our hearts, of course, were pretty much in pieces, but we could see God's hand all over it. We talked about how we had told the Lord that we wanted an "adventure", to which my beloved said to me, "well, next time, let's be SPECIFIC!!" So true, but it seems that we forgot to clarify once again.
It started last week when Don went in to reserve another month at the nice RV park by Kyle and Kristin. He came back with a buncha not-good news and some good news, which helped out the not-good. Seems that the park was not available for the next 29 days. W could pay for a few days at a time, but that becomes prohibitively expensive, but thanks to a couple of concerts (thanks a whole lot, Alan Jackson and Will Farrell), every weekend was sold out through August 28. BUT! On the way back from the office, bearing the burden of bad news he would have to tell to his wife, Don got a voicemail from the manager here at Golden Village offering the free week. God's timing. God's sense of humor.
We opted to stay in the parking lot for four nights - for free - then come out here to Hemet - for free - then back to the parking lot - for free. Do you detect a theme? Yes, free is good. Unfortunately, however, free usually comes with some drawbacks - which is generally why they are free.
Our first night was Thursday, and nice and quiet in an all but empty lot. This parking lot is next to the RV park, and across two large parking lots from Pechanga Casino, and is often the spot for RVers looking for a free spot for the night (or four) and long haul truckers looking for a respite from the road. Thursday night had only us, plus a couple of random cars whose owners needed a parking spot for...?? So, it was so nice and quiet. Then we turned on our generator and that took care of that whole quiet thing. But, we needed power for our tv and satellite and microwave and all. They may call it dry camping, but it bears as much resemblance to actual camping as a chihuahua does to a Saint Bernard - both are dogs, but there the similarities end. So, there we were in our metaphorical Saint Bernard, shutting it all down late at night and sleeping oh-so-late the next day. Hey, this may not be so bad.
We got some work done Friday morning, then headed out for a movie ("The Help" - GO SEE IT). This was Friday. We returned to our parking lot and were reminded. This was F-R-I-D-A-Y. There was a sign before we even got there that told employees to park all around that Winnebago over there. Okay. So the sign didn't exactly say that, but it might as well have. We asked one of the many shuttle drivers scooting around the lot picking up and dropping off if there was anything special going on this very busy night. he laughed and pointed out, "It's Friday." Okay, so maybe living in Maui has made us forget the magic of Friday since days seem to blend into one another in island time. But then he said something even more ominous, "But tomorrow there's some kinda comedy show at the outdoor stage." DUH-DUH-DUUUUUUUH!! (that's scary music in case you didn't recognize the tune).
Friday night was pretty noisy, with employees getting into their vehicles and driving off in a loud hurry, so we didn't feel exactly refreshed Saturday morning. These weekend days are pretty rough for me anyway, and boredom goes off the charts. It's almost impossible to do anything that does not cost some severe buckage or have half a million people involved or both. But we did figure out something to do. We went to the library to donate books, the grocery store, and Starbucks. Okay, so maybe we spent more at Starbucks than we should, but, c'mon! Starbucks!! We returned to find almost nooooooooo parking. We ended up parking quite a ways away, but at least we were on pavement. The last of the RVers had to park on dirt, as well as the latecomers to either work, the concert, or general festivizing-and-money-losing at the casino. Don and I took our nightly walk around what used to be our rv park, and then watched the traffic cops keep people from running into each other as the concert ended. We figured that the cars in the parking lot would eventually leave, and they did. The 6p.m.-2a.m. shift was done, and these good, hard-working people went to their cars and headed for home, calling all kinds of well wishes to one another...with loud enthusiasm. The 8p.m.-4a.m. shift ended, and the whole thing from two hours earlier was repeated, with the added entertainment of somebody needing a jump - two car spaces from us. The rest of the night - brief though it was - ended in relative quiet. We managed to stay awake through church, thanks to anther on-fire and on-point message, and then spent the afternoon with Kyle, Kristin, and the grandkiddies watching golf (WOW! Whadda finish!!), doing laundry, then babysitting so Mommy and Daddy could go see a movie like actual grown-ups.
We were looking forward to a return to the quiet parking lot of the first night, only to find that the lot had not one, two, or three big rigs, but SEVEN - including one right next to us and so close I half expected to find him in our bathroom. Resigned to the snugness of the situation, and the prospect of an early morning diesel start-up mere inches from our ears. We contemplated not using our generator, given the close quarters, but then we realized that these truckers are used to all kinds of noise, so we fired that bad boy up - only to find it was less of Bad Boy than it was an old man with emphysema. It coughed, sputtered, and quit. Oh no. No microwave. No satellite. NO TELEVISION!!! Now we were roughing it. Well, at least in our minds. My husband took his distraught spouse on our nightly walk, both of us playing with the idea of pulling into the park for just a one night stay, or even driving out to Hemet to pull in waaaay early. But it was almost 11:00 at night, and it would be even crazier than our usual level of crazy. So, we walked back to our quiet, powerless motorhome, parked next to a big rig. As we approached our coach, two things struck us: all these huge trucks with their trailers of goods behind them looked straight out of "Cars". We seriously thought they looked like they were going to start chatting with one another. Who knows, but maybe they did when we were not around??? I told you!! We were sleep deprived!! The other thing was as we got to our door, we heard the satisfied and comfortable snoring of the driver of the rig next to us. It reminded me of who was out there moving products around the country so we have full grocery shelves. hmmmm... We quietly retired and added these good people to our prayers. In the morning - very early - all but two of the trucks left, one after the other. But instead of letting their powerful diesels idle and warm up, they each left right away and as quietly as is possible for behemoths like these. Thanks, guys - and no sarcasm in my voice.
So, here we are. Back in the desert. I have found myself thinking of the wandering Israelites, and wondering if ever the women were harping at their husbands to pull over and ask for directions. Can't you hear it?? "Hey, hubby, isn't this the same rock we passed two days ago? Look! It still has our boy's 'Shelimelech was here' on it!" But they had to wait for their directions from God, and so do we.
But we are being much more specific in our prayers...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Check Lists
My mom loved to make lists when I was a kid. She had her grocery lists, Christmas lists, and of course, her to-do lists. Mother would even add things to her list just so she could mark them off once she done said task that she hadn't made it on the list originally. She would tell me, her hard-headed, disorganized youngest, that making lists was a great way to get things done that you had to do. But, of course, being hard-headed and disorganized, and waaay cooler and smarter than my mom, I didn't think lists were important and refused.
And then I became a mom. Not only did I discover that lists were useful, I became near fanatic about them - just ask my kids. To increase my list mania, I started college when I was in my thirties. Kyle had just started first grade, Greg in third, John in fifth, Don....much further along. I added into my list addiction the love of a datebook - which held more lists. I guess that makes me a dual-diagnosis addict. But, it helped me get things done. In all those years, I didn't forget to feed my family nor show up to class in my jammies. Can't say that I would have had the same results without my lists and datebook.
A few years after I graduated, I started my own business. It started as a decorating business for parties and weddings. Now my lists had sub-lists, and countdown schedules, to boot! And my datebook. You can ask my partner, Autumn, if I ever functioned without without it. Misplacing the list could leave me in a state of disorientation with serious tremors. Tell me you haven't seen that on "Intervention"! Anyhow, Mother was right and lists help things along.
Unfortunately, I have been using a mental to-do list with our sojourn here, and while lists are one of my best things, God does not use check lists. I can't imagine Him, as He was putting the universe together, with a enormous clipboard and pencil..."Okay, stars - check, planets -check, check, check - wait a minute, let's rethink the who planet thing for Pluto...." But even if the Lord had His own type of to-do list, it wouldn't look anything like mine.
Like I said, I must admit to succumbing to the temptation of thinking that I know why God brought us here. I have never,ever limited God's unlimited power to do whatever He chooses. There is NOTHING impossible for our Lord and Creator. But there is a reason we talk about God's WILL be done. His will. His intent. My trouble is that I think that I can figure out His intent. Now that isn't just cheeky, it's downright foolish. I am told over and over in Scripture that my ways are not God's ways, and vice versa. Yet...
The first few weeks of being here, we did Autumn's wedding, Greg's graduation, helped with a second wedding, worked at a marriage retreat, and babysat a few thousand times. Check Check Check Check and Check. Can we go home now? We attended a memorial service for a woman dear to me since childhood. We caught up with some dear Missionary friends, and all the friends who support them. We visited my mom in La Mesa and Don's mom in Arizona. Check Check. Now!?!? I finished writing a novel - which I had been working on since the Carter Administration. Okay, we're good now, Lord, right??!! But....we're still here.
What we, in our finite brains fail to remember is that God's brain is infinite. He is not bound by linear thinking, nor constrained by dates and deadlines. Without a doubt, he has things that He wants us to do - He designed us for "things" - but mostly what He wants is our love, trust, and obedience. Those last two are the real bugaboos. To trust Him means to keep taking one step in front of the other - sometimes on water. To obey Him means to do what He says - even though it is seldom easy or fun. And the combination of those two frustrates the dickens outa me. I am willing to do whatever tasks He says, if God would only tell me what they were. I would trust better if I knew what lay ahead and how much longer we will be here. I would be so much better at getting things done to get us back home, if God would just show me the checklist.
And then I became a mom. Not only did I discover that lists were useful, I became near fanatic about them - just ask my kids. To increase my list mania, I started college when I was in my thirties. Kyle had just started first grade, Greg in third, John in fifth, Don....much further along. I added into my list addiction the love of a datebook - which held more lists. I guess that makes me a dual-diagnosis addict. But, it helped me get things done. In all those years, I didn't forget to feed my family nor show up to class in my jammies. Can't say that I would have had the same results without my lists and datebook.
A few years after I graduated, I started my own business. It started as a decorating business for parties and weddings. Now my lists had sub-lists, and countdown schedules, to boot! And my datebook. You can ask my partner, Autumn, if I ever functioned without without it. Misplacing the list could leave me in a state of disorientation with serious tremors. Tell me you haven't seen that on "Intervention"! Anyhow, Mother was right and lists help things along.
Unfortunately, I have been using a mental to-do list with our sojourn here, and while lists are one of my best things, God does not use check lists. I can't imagine Him, as He was putting the universe together, with a enormous clipboard and pencil..."Okay, stars - check, planets -check, check, check - wait a minute, let's rethink the who planet thing for Pluto...." But even if the Lord had His own type of to-do list, it wouldn't look anything like mine.
Like I said, I must admit to succumbing to the temptation of thinking that I know why God brought us here. I have never,ever limited God's unlimited power to do whatever He chooses. There is NOTHING impossible for our Lord and Creator. But there is a reason we talk about God's WILL be done. His will. His intent. My trouble is that I think that I can figure out His intent. Now that isn't just cheeky, it's downright foolish. I am told over and over in Scripture that my ways are not God's ways, and vice versa. Yet...
The first few weeks of being here, we did Autumn's wedding, Greg's graduation, helped with a second wedding, worked at a marriage retreat, and babysat a few thousand times. Check Check Check Check and Check. Can we go home now? We attended a memorial service for a woman dear to me since childhood. We caught up with some dear Missionary friends, and all the friends who support them. We visited my mom in La Mesa and Don's mom in Arizona. Check Check. Now!?!? I finished writing a novel - which I had been working on since the Carter Administration. Okay, we're good now, Lord, right??!! But....we're still here.
What we, in our finite brains fail to remember is that God's brain is infinite. He is not bound by linear thinking, nor constrained by dates and deadlines. Without a doubt, he has things that He wants us to do - He designed us for "things" - but mostly what He wants is our love, trust, and obedience. Those last two are the real bugaboos. To trust Him means to keep taking one step in front of the other - sometimes on water. To obey Him means to do what He says - even though it is seldom easy or fun. And the combination of those two frustrates the dickens outa me. I am willing to do whatever tasks He says, if God would only tell me what they were. I would trust better if I knew what lay ahead and how much longer we will be here. I would be so much better at getting things done to get us back home, if God would just show me the checklist.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Looking Forward and Looking Back
I almost titled this "Looking Forward TO Looking Back", but that seemed to be a little snarky and ungrateful. But then again, I have big moments of snark and ingratitude, so perhaps....
Today is kind of a momentous anniversary for Don and me - two years ago today we took off from San Diego on our Big Adventure. Who knew that the adjective "big" would be such and understatement? Well....actually, God did. And He kept it quiet. But then again, had He told us, would we have done it? Likely not.
Two years ago we packed up the motorhome with everything that didn't go into big shipping crates for what turned out to be a slow boat to...Maui. You might be thinking that there would have been plenty of room in the RV because we would be smart enough to send all of our stuff in shipping crates. Well, pal, you obviously overestimate our smartness. We were up to our armpits with things that we (read: Denise) KNEW we would need before our stuff got there. There was enough room for Don to drive the motorhome, but FloJo had to be on his lap and I had to lay across the dashboard. Okay. Not really. Sometimes FloJo and I switched places.
But the adventure began, and after wandering the southwest for three weeks, and then a few more days in Portland (yes, it makes sense. kinda), we set our feet down on Maui on September 1, 2009 - not as happy and excited tourists, but as happy but slightly terrified pilgrims. To say nothing was quite what we expected is yet another crazy understatement. We thought we'd have a few days to be tourists, but Don actually hit the ground running as a realtor. Okay, stop laughing those of you who have seen my husband run. It's a METAPHOR, people!! Point being, he started his real estate work with Keller-Williams immediately.
We also found a car and a home in very short order, and started attending our new church home, Calvary Chapel Westside, in Lahaina. What we didn't expect was to fall in love so very quickly with the people of CCW. Within a month, Don had been to a "Meat Fest" BBQ with the men, and I had been to a breakfast with the ladies. Within the same month, Greg arrived with FloJo, and shortly after, we had our new pastor and his wife and daughter over for dinner. Of course, our stuff hadn't arrived yet, and the dining room set we had bought only had four chairs, so Steve and Kim (the pastor and missus) had to bring their own silverware and ended up sitting on two office chairs that we had acquired. It was during that dinner that we asked what we could do, Steve told us "show up", which we promised to do, but asked about more. We ended up taking over the sale of the CCW merchandise at our service down at the park, fondly dubbed by Steve, Calvary Contraband. And so it began, in earnest.
The things that amazed us, was what was hard, was harder than expected. But what was good, was beyond what we ever could have imagined. We found ourselves sort of blindsided in some less than straight forward dealings in Don's business, but blessed beyond measure by the people who lovingly befriended us. Some of the foods we were used to were either very expensive or we couldn't find it (do NOT buy jicama in Hawaii. Don't say I didn't warn you), but we indulged endlessly
in fresh papaya, oyster mushrooms, and fish like monchong, opah, ono, and mahi mahi so fresh that it hadn't even been missed by its fishy friends yet. We didn't make it into the water as often as I hoped, but every day off was a little Maui vacation. And then there is the weather. And the snorkeling. And weather. And the trees. And the weather. And the whales. oh, and the WEATHER!! People think that perfection can be monotonous. To them I say.....go ahead, BORE ME!!!!
So, when we left, it was by far the hardest thing we have ever done. There was no choice. But then again, if God had simply asked us if we wouldn't mind leaving this place and people we love to return to a place that makes me nuts for an indefinite period of time for an unknown reason, would either of us popped up and said, "Here are we, Lord! Send us!" ? I don't think so. We are humbled to know so many who have done just such things in service to God, but we needed more...convincing.
But, lest you think we've been all in sackcloth and ashes, we have not. We have been to weddings, a graduation, a funeral, and a getaway. We have traveled within our trip, and have had multiple mini-adventures within this bigger one. But, by far and a way, the biggest treat and consolation has been the time with family here. Okay. Let's be real. The grandbabies. Yeah, yeah, our kids are awesome and all, but the have been walking and talking for quite some time and I fear may have already peaked on the cuteness scale. Josh and Amber have areas of cute they haven't even discovered yet! Amber is losing her baby roundness and showing signs of being the same lovely woman as her mother - but is every bit the little pistol as her dad. Joshua is getting funnier every day, and has become this jock of the toddler set, loving to throw anything that even slightly resembles a ball and also loves to jump into loving arms at the pool or off the couch. We all need to take turns at that one. After Josh's last visit to the pool with Grammy and Grampy, poor Grammy and Grampy needed a jacuzzi-y. But hearing them squeal their excitement every time we show up (talk about an ego boost!) brings us great joy. The fun thing is that once we return to Maui, we still get to see them on skype and they can squeal online!! And blow out speakers!!!
So, at this anniversary, how do we feel looking back? Believe it or not, we wouldn't change a thing. Missteps that we may have made, we won't make again. The painful separation only makes us appreciate those folks more. And we pray, above all, that what we have gone through and how God has been there ALWAYS, will serve as a witness to God's abundant love and mercy. Just like any parent, our Heavenly Father's love sometimes means disappointment and pain for His children - but it is never, ever capricious or mean-spirited. God has a way of pushing us to the wall to show that we don't do this ourselves. What God can do compared to what we can do is like comparing Michaelangelo's David to a preschooler's sugar and flour relief map of Nebraska. Please do not read this as a glowing testimony of Don''s and my endlessly smiling Hallmark channel faith. uh-uh. I struggle with doubt, meltdowns, hissy fits, fears, ya-gotta-be-kiddin'-God moments, and trying to give God advice.
When are we going back? As I told a young friend who asked that very question, perhaps soon, but when God is your travel agent, you had just be ready to go on very short notice. Just ask the Israelites. So, we pray for the Lord to let us go back home to Maui. And waiting, again, for God to say "yes."
Today is kind of a momentous anniversary for Don and me - two years ago today we took off from San Diego on our Big Adventure. Who knew that the adjective "big" would be such and understatement? Well....actually, God did. And He kept it quiet. But then again, had He told us, would we have done it? Likely not.
Two years ago we packed up the motorhome with everything that didn't go into big shipping crates for what turned out to be a slow boat to...Maui. You might be thinking that there would have been plenty of room in the RV because we would be smart enough to send all of our stuff in shipping crates. Well, pal, you obviously overestimate our smartness. We were up to our armpits with things that we (read: Denise) KNEW we would need before our stuff got there. There was enough room for Don to drive the motorhome, but FloJo had to be on his lap and I had to lay across the dashboard. Okay. Not really. Sometimes FloJo and I switched places.
But the adventure began, and after wandering the southwest for three weeks, and then a few more days in Portland (yes, it makes sense. kinda), we set our feet down on Maui on September 1, 2009 - not as happy and excited tourists, but as happy but slightly terrified pilgrims. To say nothing was quite what we expected is yet another crazy understatement. We thought we'd have a few days to be tourists, but Don actually hit the ground running as a realtor. Okay, stop laughing those of you who have seen my husband run. It's a METAPHOR, people!! Point being, he started his real estate work with Keller-Williams immediately.
We also found a car and a home in very short order, and started attending our new church home, Calvary Chapel Westside, in Lahaina. What we didn't expect was to fall in love so very quickly with the people of CCW. Within a month, Don had been to a "Meat Fest" BBQ with the men, and I had been to a breakfast with the ladies. Within the same month, Greg arrived with FloJo, and shortly after, we had our new pastor and his wife and daughter over for dinner. Of course, our stuff hadn't arrived yet, and the dining room set we had bought only had four chairs, so Steve and Kim (the pastor and missus) had to bring their own silverware and ended up sitting on two office chairs that we had acquired. It was during that dinner that we asked what we could do, Steve told us "show up", which we promised to do, but asked about more. We ended up taking over the sale of the CCW merchandise at our service down at the park, fondly dubbed by Steve, Calvary Contraband. And so it began, in earnest.
The things that amazed us, was what was hard, was harder than expected. But what was good, was beyond what we ever could have imagined. We found ourselves sort of blindsided in some less than straight forward dealings in Don's business, but blessed beyond measure by the people who lovingly befriended us. Some of the foods we were used to were either very expensive or we couldn't find it (do NOT buy jicama in Hawaii. Don't say I didn't warn you), but we indulged endlessly
in fresh papaya, oyster mushrooms, and fish like monchong, opah, ono, and mahi mahi so fresh that it hadn't even been missed by its fishy friends yet. We didn't make it into the water as often as I hoped, but every day off was a little Maui vacation. And then there is the weather. And the snorkeling. And weather. And the trees. And the weather. And the whales. oh, and the WEATHER!! People think that perfection can be monotonous. To them I say.....go ahead, BORE ME!!!!
So, when we left, it was by far the hardest thing we have ever done. There was no choice. But then again, if God had simply asked us if we wouldn't mind leaving this place and people we love to return to a place that makes me nuts for an indefinite period of time for an unknown reason, would either of us popped up and said, "Here are we, Lord! Send us!" ? I don't think so. We are humbled to know so many who have done just such things in service to God, but we needed more...convincing.
But, lest you think we've been all in sackcloth and ashes, we have not. We have been to weddings, a graduation, a funeral, and a getaway. We have traveled within our trip, and have had multiple mini-adventures within this bigger one. But, by far and a way, the biggest treat and consolation has been the time with family here. Okay. Let's be real. The grandbabies. Yeah, yeah, our kids are awesome and all, but the have been walking and talking for quite some time and I fear may have already peaked on the cuteness scale. Josh and Amber have areas of cute they haven't even discovered yet! Amber is losing her baby roundness and showing signs of being the same lovely woman as her mother - but is every bit the little pistol as her dad. Joshua is getting funnier every day, and has become this jock of the toddler set, loving to throw anything that even slightly resembles a ball and also loves to jump into loving arms at the pool or off the couch. We all need to take turns at that one. After Josh's last visit to the pool with Grammy and Grampy, poor Grammy and Grampy needed a jacuzzi-y. But hearing them squeal their excitement every time we show up (talk about an ego boost!) brings us great joy. The fun thing is that once we return to Maui, we still get to see them on skype and they can squeal online!! And blow out speakers!!!
So, at this anniversary, how do we feel looking back? Believe it or not, we wouldn't change a thing. Missteps that we may have made, we won't make again. The painful separation only makes us appreciate those folks more. And we pray, above all, that what we have gone through and how God has been there ALWAYS, will serve as a witness to God's abundant love and mercy. Just like any parent, our Heavenly Father's love sometimes means disappointment and pain for His children - but it is never, ever capricious or mean-spirited. God has a way of pushing us to the wall to show that we don't do this ourselves. What God can do compared to what we can do is like comparing Michaelangelo's David to a preschooler's sugar and flour relief map of Nebraska. Please do not read this as a glowing testimony of Don''s and my endlessly smiling Hallmark channel faith. uh-uh. I struggle with doubt, meltdowns, hissy fits, fears, ya-gotta-be-kiddin'-God moments, and trying to give God advice.
When are we going back? As I told a young friend who asked that very question, perhaps soon, but when God is your travel agent, you had just be ready to go on very short notice. Just ask the Israelites. So, we pray for the Lord to let us go back home to Maui. And waiting, again, for God to say "yes."
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