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."
Saturday, July 9, 2011
I'm Starting to Hate Willie Nelson...
"On the road again! (ner-ner ner-ner ner-ner) I can't believe we're on the road again! (ner-ner ner-ner ner) Late-ly my life has been moving with out end! I can't believe we're on the road again!
Okay. I guess you really have to be in my crazy head to get it, but still...SInce October, I think we have made nomads look positively sedentary. Let me summarize:
Kualapa-> Front Street-> Ka'anapali Shores-> John's Apartment-> Golden Village RV Resort-> Pechanga RV Resort-> Pechanga Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Lyndie Lane (K&K's place)-> Pechanga RV-> Lyndie Lane-> Pechanga Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Parking Lot-> Pechanga-> Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Prescott, AZ (Don's mom)-> John's Apartment-> Pechanga RV. I think I may have forgotten a trip or two to the parking lot, but you get the drift.
The thing about moving the motorhome is that you have to go through the same routine, whether moving 20 feet or 200 miles. Setup: jacks down, sideouts out, electricity connected, water connected, sewage connected, windows and vents opened, microwave plate in (learned that after not once but TWICE having these glass revolving plates launched out of the microwave and exploded on the floor, after Don hit a pothole or speed bump or giant possum or something), set clock on microwave, put out little coffee tables, take all the little jewelry boxes and pictures off the bed and set them on the counter, take my computer, keyboard, and mouse off the same bed, and set that up on what used to be the dinette, take the clothes pole out of the shower, put all the showery-girly-hair-producty stuff in all the right places, awning out, outdoor rugs out, chairs and tables out, coffee carafe into coffee maker, knives in knifeblock onto kitchen counter, range opened up, kettle on range, start up satellite and until recently, Don would have to take the back tv off the bed and set it up in its little cabinet. And then when we need to move somewhere, it all goes the other way. I know I've forgotten something. And, yes, I readily admit this is not even REMOTELY related to camping or roughing it. But, it is pretty annoying. But, God has blessed us by letting us by getting us a spot at Pechanga RV Park until August 12! Yay and praise God!!
But in the midst of all the looney moving, we have had some pretty fun travel adventures - most notably our recent trip to Prescott (rhymes with biscuit. Don't make me tell you again), Arizona. We had to have a few thousand things repaired on the rv so we left it in what we presumed to be capable hands - more on that later. We finally got on the road early afternoon - for what was estimated to be about a nine-plus hour jaunt into the high desert.
I still love a good road trip Don and I had a blast. And blast is what hit us when we got out of our safe little air conditioned vehicle in Needles, CA. It was 6:30 in the evening and the thermometer said 111. I think it may have understated it. I also think that the name "Needles" was inspired by the feeling one's eyeballs get when hitting this kind of furnace. Juxtaposed against this dry inferno is a lush green vein of trees lining the shimmering blue-green Colorado River, and I-40 runs next to it for a short distance before crossing over into Arizona. It was dusk when we scooted through Kingman, AZ, and just before leaving the outlying areas, it looked as though there was a dust storm ahead. Well, there was, but it was caused by two young men on their quad ATV's zooming right beside the freeway, creating quite the cloud of nearly opaque dust. About a week later, the Phoenix area would experience a massive dust storm called a haboob. The cause of this dust storm, however, were just boobs. The 40 also meets up with the much-storied Route 66, and if you have seen the Disney flik "Cars", you know the story of the little town of Radiator Springs which had been left virtually abandoned by the opening of the interstate. We sort of happened upon the little town that is the living, breathing Radiator Springs when, ummmm, shall we say....the iced tea we had started consuming back in Needles prevented us from making it all the way to Don's mom's house and we stopped, in a big ol' hurry, in the tiny, charming town of Seligman, Arizona. Yes, I can see that some of you know this place, being Route 66 fans and all. We hit it again on the way back so we could take pics of the REAL Doc and Mater!! Didn't find Lightning McQueen, though. Musta had a race. We finally rolled into Prescott about 11:00 that night, and it felt good.
Don's mom, Joann, lives in the same kind of independent living/retirement community called Las Fuentes, and we met a lot of very vibrant senior folks. We met one lady who was a very young 101, and her SON was in his early 80's! Joann even joked about how someone would say that their kids were coming to visit, and who would show up but some more old people! But it is a lovely place and it was great to be a little spoiled for 10 days.
The bigger adventure lay in our side trips and mini-adventures around the area. Our visit also happened to coincide with July 4th weekend, which is Prescott's big rodeo weekend, as well. Couldn't swing a limp lasso without hitting someone in a cowboy hat or a big truck pulling a horse trailer. Downtown Prescott has a really cool old town feeling, and we cruised along there and checked out some very nifty shops. Our personal favorite? Young's Farm Candy and Ice Cream where they have the crazy best and most unique flavors of candy and homemade ice cream. I paid a return visit the day before we left so I could send a sampling of their unique brittles and bark to my girlfriends back home in Maui. And if you CCW girls are reading this....yummies await at the next Bible Studies....
Our little mini-road trips took us north three different times. We set our sights on Sedona first, to catch up with the parents/new in-laws of the bride and groom, Autumn and Tarkus (look to one of my previous episodes). Tarkus' mom and stepdad, Holly and Robbie, live in a charming and peaceful house just blocks away from the charming and not-so-peaceful heart of Sedona. I think I kind of want to be these two when I grow up - except in Maui, not in the high (but gorgeous!) desert of Arizona. The both have young and creative hearts, with vibrant spirits to match. H&R treated the three of us to some of the best Mexican food I have had in quite a long time in - get ready for it - Tlaquepaque. Pronounce it. Dare ya. And you thought Hawaiian was challenging!!! Rough phonetics: tla (I know, those don't make a normal sound, but just go with it) -kay-pah-kay. Anyway, it is a cool set of shops, restaurants and galleries that I'm sure are inspired by something cool and historic, but I am woefully ignorant of its history. But suffice to say, the setting, the food, the company were surpassed only by the surrounding mountains and cliffs of layer cake in various shades of red, with tufts of dark green adding punches of contrast. We left Sedona and our friends with our hearts as full as our tummies!
Don and I shot back up north for a day at Grand Canyon. If you haven't ever been to see this overwhelming and enormous piece of God's artistry....WHY NOT!?!? It more than exceeds the hype, so no worries about being disappointed. It is considered the most visited National Park in the world - and I think that was just on the day we were there. It was right after the July 4th weekend, and there were still about 2,945,921 visitors making a long weekend out of it. We had observed some rather ominous clouds to the northeast during the drive there, and then heard the unmistakable deep rumble of distant thunder shortly after our arrival. It didn't take long for the rumbles became cracks and boom, with the accompanying strobes of lightning - followed by the beginnings of a gully-whomper (sorry - left over form Rodeo Days). We managed to get under a shelter before it really opened up. Unfortunately, it was an short A-frame between two rows of restrooms, and open at either end. About 3 dozen more folks came into join us as the skies completely opened. Already a small space, it was made all the smaller by the wind blowing in sheets of rain on one end. We were all so soaked and ridiculous that pretty much everyone was laughing - at each other. Once the rain cleared, the day was ours to just explore and wonder. I never get tired of it. I have been blessed to fly over this amazing place a couple of times in my life, and one can almost see the hands of God pulling the land apart, exposing more of the ribbon candy cliffs and the powerful Colorado River looking like nothing more than a tiny deep sea-green thread. It is the very definition of Awesome.
One of the most astonishing thing about our one-day visit is the multiples elk-sightings!! Now, this would not mean much to anyone but those who know of Don's and my remarkable record of oh-fer-768 on wildlife sightings - humpbacks, dolphins, and barracudas excepted. The great thing about these elk is that they are so accustomed to gawkers like us that they don't move anywhere, even when the rangers do the woop-woop with their sirens to shoo us gawkers along. So, after a wonderful day of rain and elk and zillions of fellow awe-inspired canyon-lookers, we headed back to Prescott, more thunderstorms and cah-rrrraaaaaaazy lightning straight over us
We took another quick trip back to the area close to Sedona to meet up with Don's sister and brother-in-law as they headed off on a long road trip to Wisconsin. What makes this note-worthy is that this was after that mind-boggling sand tsunami that rolled over Greater Metropolitan Phoenix. Kathy and Howard live in the Southeast corner of that particular area, and like literally millions of other Phoenixians (yes, I made that up), they were trying to get 17 layers of desert of their vehicle. When we headed out of Prescott to meet them, we noticed that there was a decidedly thick haze, of the dust variety. This is over 100 miles away. Yikes. Every car - including ours - had a mottled layer of this dust, with some thicker than others. Yes, this was some big haboooooob!!
The actual July 4th (yes, I'm aware that I am out of chronological order) started with hearing a clorp-ca-clorp-ca-clorp outside the window. I finally caught sight of the source: a buff-colored Belgian Draft Horse pulling a wagon filled with residents of Las Fuentes and their guests! Sweet! The first loads were kind of full, but then we saw the wagon with one lone lady and her walker, so we figured the crowds had thinned. Sure enough, we got the last ride of the morning, and had to share with no one! Double sweet! We were enjoying our very relaxing ride behind the mellow Edward the Horse (Mr. Ed!) when around one corner we came horse-to-headlights with a big, loud garbage truck. This loud smelly beast cause our quiet, not-as-smelly beast start skittering around quite nervously. We three, in turn, felt our insides start skittering around just as nervously. I replayed every When-mellow-beast-go-nuts video I had ever seen and made the decision that should Edward go from Riverdance to Chariots of Fire I would leap protectively on my diminutive mother-in-law, and prayed that my husband would then leap protectively on both of us. Fortunately, the brave resolve of either/both of us was not tested, as one of our drivers led Edward the horsey quietly past the noisy, trash-eating behemoth - only to have us come horse-to-headlights again at the front of the building. It was our time to get out. We did.
After escaping being the next you-tube feature about crazed horses and wagons, we, and the others of Las Fuentes, were entertained by cloggers. No, these are not people who stuff wrong things down potties or drains, but country-style tap dancers. Very energetic and fun! I loved the little girl who did her solo dance to Lady Gaga. Cloggin' to Gaga. What a great way to celebrate this country!!!
And then, we were off to the highlight of the day. While we were headed to a July 4th BBQ at a Lavender Farm about 30 miles away, and that was fun, that wasn't the highlight of which I speak. Not even close. Our treat for the day came in the person of a proper British lady named, Grace - Joann's best friend. Having heard so much about her from Don's mom, we were eager to meet her. Since we were giving her a ride to the dinner, we would have that blessing! Now, how to describe the lovely Miss Grace....picture, if you will, a mash-up of Mrs. Doubtfire, Queen Elizabeth II, and Dame Edna. Rather tall, a shock of white hair, and a lively face was my first impression of the 80-something-year-old - and than we heard her speak. Her speaking voice has more pitch and volume changes than Jay Leno. Grace and Joann chatted like schoolgirls in the back seat while Don and I were just enjoying the entertainment. We headed north on US 89 to Chino Valley - the location of the lavender farm and dinner party. As we headed into the more open country areas on our way, Grace said that we should be looking for....and she couldn't quite remember what the animal was, but it was kind of a deer....but not a deer....but smaller.... Having grown up on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, and then grown semi-old on watching Animal Planet and Nat Geo, I said "do you mean Pronghorn Antelope?" "oh, no no no, that's not it," Grace assured me. A few miles more of Grace trying to remember the exact name of the animal, I offered again, "gee, it sounds like a pronghorn antelope." Suddenly, at a decibel level normally reserved for Heavy Metal bands, came from the back seat "AUNTILOOP!!! YEEES!! THAT'S IT!! AUNTILOOP!!" My beloved demonstrated exceptional control of the car and kept us on the road despite the heart stoppage and intense ringing in his ears. So, we now knew to look for auntiloop- uh, antelope to and from our lovely dinner at the lovely lavender farm. We never saw any, but the enthusiastic search made the trip pure joy! We arrived back at the gate for Grace's community, and it was then she realized she had forgotten her gate clicker. She also realized that the majority of her neighbors were at the community clubhouse 4th of July party. After a few profanities (somehow, when they are spoken with proper British enunciation, they are just not as offensive), and a few attempts at finding one neighbor's number on the directory, we managed to get buzzed in and take this wonderful lady to her home. Lest I give the impression that Grace is some kind of caricature of a British Lady, I should tell you that she was once a tennis player of championship caliber and she was a Traffic Safety Engineer. Grace is quite something. And she was, indeed, the highlight of our adventures!
Our return home was just as much fun - but not so fun was the phone call from the RV place where our coach was supposed to be READY!! Essentially, Don's side of the conversation was like this, "Really? What about the shower. Not til when? Well, how about the jacks and sideout? Uh-huh. How much? What about the inverter? Really. How much? So you not only need my left kidney, but my wife's as well." Yeah. Fortunately, our son opened his comfy apartment, and 6 days after the coach was supposed to be done, we picked it up with only half of the stuff done. Egad. But, PRAISE GOD, Don was able to convince these yahoos that we really shouldn't pay for stuff that wasn't done. Imagine that. We now have called on our favorite mobile RV guy to fix all these things that were going to cost us a few internal organs and a couple gallons of blood. We can actually pay this wonderful guy and stay financially - and physically - intact. God is sooo good.
So, we get to sit still for a while these things get handled. I can get the last chapter of my novel finished. Maybe I can throw some paint on these canvases I've had for about three months. But not tonight. I have to stop now. I bet your eyes are happy to hear that.
Okay. I guess you really have to be in my crazy head to get it, but still...SInce October, I think we have made nomads look positively sedentary. Let me summarize:
Kualapa-> Front Street-> Ka'anapali Shores-> John's Apartment-> Golden Village RV Resort-> Pechanga RV Resort-> Pechanga Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Lyndie Lane (K&K's place)-> Pechanga RV-> Lyndie Lane-> Pechanga Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Parking Lot-> Pechanga-> Parking Lot-> Pechanga RV-> Prescott, AZ (Don's mom)-> John's Apartment-> Pechanga RV. I think I may have forgotten a trip or two to the parking lot, but you get the drift.
The thing about moving the motorhome is that you have to go through the same routine, whether moving 20 feet or 200 miles. Setup: jacks down, sideouts out, electricity connected, water connected, sewage connected, windows and vents opened, microwave plate in (learned that after not once but TWICE having these glass revolving plates launched out of the microwave and exploded on the floor, after Don hit a pothole or speed bump or giant possum or something), set clock on microwave, put out little coffee tables, take all the little jewelry boxes and pictures off the bed and set them on the counter, take my computer, keyboard, and mouse off the same bed, and set that up on what used to be the dinette, take the clothes pole out of the shower, put all the showery-girly-hair-producty stuff in all the right places, awning out, outdoor rugs out, chairs and tables out, coffee carafe into coffee maker, knives in knifeblock onto kitchen counter, range opened up, kettle on range, start up satellite and until recently, Don would have to take the back tv off the bed and set it up in its little cabinet. And then when we need to move somewhere, it all goes the other way. I know I've forgotten something. And, yes, I readily admit this is not even REMOTELY related to camping or roughing it. But, it is pretty annoying. But, God has blessed us by letting us by getting us a spot at Pechanga RV Park until August 12! Yay and praise God!!
But in the midst of all the looney moving, we have had some pretty fun travel adventures - most notably our recent trip to Prescott (rhymes with biscuit. Don't make me tell you again), Arizona. We had to have a few thousand things repaired on the rv so we left it in what we presumed to be capable hands - more on that later. We finally got on the road early afternoon - for what was estimated to be about a nine-plus hour jaunt into the high desert.
I still love a good road trip Don and I had a blast. And blast is what hit us when we got out of our safe little air conditioned vehicle in Needles, CA. It was 6:30 in the evening and the thermometer said 111. I think it may have understated it. I also think that the name "Needles" was inspired by the feeling one's eyeballs get when hitting this kind of furnace. Juxtaposed against this dry inferno is a lush green vein of trees lining the shimmering blue-green Colorado River, and I-40 runs next to it for a short distance before crossing over into Arizona. It was dusk when we scooted through Kingman, AZ, and just before leaving the outlying areas, it looked as though there was a dust storm ahead. Well, there was, but it was caused by two young men on their quad ATV's zooming right beside the freeway, creating quite the cloud of nearly opaque dust. About a week later, the Phoenix area would experience a massive dust storm called a haboob. The cause of this dust storm, however, were just boobs. The 40 also meets up with the much-storied Route 66, and if you have seen the Disney flik "Cars", you know the story of the little town of Radiator Springs which had been left virtually abandoned by the opening of the interstate. We sort of happened upon the little town that is the living, breathing Radiator Springs when, ummmm, shall we say....the iced tea we had started consuming back in Needles prevented us from making it all the way to Don's mom's house and we stopped, in a big ol' hurry, in the tiny, charming town of Seligman, Arizona. Yes, I can see that some of you know this place, being Route 66 fans and all. We hit it again on the way back so we could take pics of the REAL Doc and Mater!! Didn't find Lightning McQueen, though. Musta had a race. We finally rolled into Prescott about 11:00 that night, and it felt good.
Don's mom, Joann, lives in the same kind of independent living/retirement community called Las Fuentes, and we met a lot of very vibrant senior folks. We met one lady who was a very young 101, and her SON was in his early 80's! Joann even joked about how someone would say that their kids were coming to visit, and who would show up but some more old people! But it is a lovely place and it was great to be a little spoiled for 10 days.
The bigger adventure lay in our side trips and mini-adventures around the area. Our visit also happened to coincide with July 4th weekend, which is Prescott's big rodeo weekend, as well. Couldn't swing a limp lasso without hitting someone in a cowboy hat or a big truck pulling a horse trailer. Downtown Prescott has a really cool old town feeling, and we cruised along there and checked out some very nifty shops. Our personal favorite? Young's Farm Candy and Ice Cream where they have the crazy best and most unique flavors of candy and homemade ice cream. I paid a return visit the day before we left so I could send a sampling of their unique brittles and bark to my girlfriends back home in Maui. And if you CCW girls are reading this....yummies await at the next Bible Studies....
Our little mini-road trips took us north three different times. We set our sights on Sedona first, to catch up with the parents/new in-laws of the bride and groom, Autumn and Tarkus (look to one of my previous episodes). Tarkus' mom and stepdad, Holly and Robbie, live in a charming and peaceful house just blocks away from the charming and not-so-peaceful heart of Sedona. I think I kind of want to be these two when I grow up - except in Maui, not in the high (but gorgeous!) desert of Arizona. The both have young and creative hearts, with vibrant spirits to match. H&R treated the three of us to some of the best Mexican food I have had in quite a long time in - get ready for it - Tlaquepaque. Pronounce it. Dare ya. And you thought Hawaiian was challenging!!! Rough phonetics: tla (I know, those don't make a normal sound, but just go with it) -kay-pah-kay. Anyway, it is a cool set of shops, restaurants and galleries that I'm sure are inspired by something cool and historic, but I am woefully ignorant of its history. But suffice to say, the setting, the food, the company were surpassed only by the surrounding mountains and cliffs of layer cake in various shades of red, with tufts of dark green adding punches of contrast. We left Sedona and our friends with our hearts as full as our tummies!
Don and I shot back up north for a day at Grand Canyon. If you haven't ever been to see this overwhelming and enormous piece of God's artistry....WHY NOT!?!? It more than exceeds the hype, so no worries about being disappointed. It is considered the most visited National Park in the world - and I think that was just on the day we were there. It was right after the July 4th weekend, and there were still about 2,945,921 visitors making a long weekend out of it. We had observed some rather ominous clouds to the northeast during the drive there, and then heard the unmistakable deep rumble of distant thunder shortly after our arrival. It didn't take long for the rumbles became cracks and boom, with the accompanying strobes of lightning - followed by the beginnings of a gully-whomper (sorry - left over form Rodeo Days). We managed to get under a shelter before it really opened up. Unfortunately, it was an short A-frame between two rows of restrooms, and open at either end. About 3 dozen more folks came into join us as the skies completely opened. Already a small space, it was made all the smaller by the wind blowing in sheets of rain on one end. We were all so soaked and ridiculous that pretty much everyone was laughing - at each other. Once the rain cleared, the day was ours to just explore and wonder. I never get tired of it. I have been blessed to fly over this amazing place a couple of times in my life, and one can almost see the hands of God pulling the land apart, exposing more of the ribbon candy cliffs and the powerful Colorado River looking like nothing more than a tiny deep sea-green thread. It is the very definition of Awesome.
One of the most astonishing thing about our one-day visit is the multiples elk-sightings!! Now, this would not mean much to anyone but those who know of Don's and my remarkable record of oh-fer-768 on wildlife sightings - humpbacks, dolphins, and barracudas excepted. The great thing about these elk is that they are so accustomed to gawkers like us that they don't move anywhere, even when the rangers do the woop-woop with their sirens to shoo us gawkers along. So, after a wonderful day of rain and elk and zillions of fellow awe-inspired canyon-lookers, we headed back to Prescott, more thunderstorms and cah-rrrraaaaaaazy lightning straight over us
We took another quick trip back to the area close to Sedona to meet up with Don's sister and brother-in-law as they headed off on a long road trip to Wisconsin. What makes this note-worthy is that this was after that mind-boggling sand tsunami that rolled over Greater Metropolitan Phoenix. Kathy and Howard live in the Southeast corner of that particular area, and like literally millions of other Phoenixians (yes, I made that up), they were trying to get 17 layers of desert of their vehicle. When we headed out of Prescott to meet them, we noticed that there was a decidedly thick haze, of the dust variety. This is over 100 miles away. Yikes. Every car - including ours - had a mottled layer of this dust, with some thicker than others. Yes, this was some big haboooooob!!
The actual July 4th (yes, I'm aware that I am out of chronological order) started with hearing a clorp-ca-clorp-ca-clorp outside the window. I finally caught sight of the source: a buff-colored Belgian Draft Horse pulling a wagon filled with residents of Las Fuentes and their guests! Sweet! The first loads were kind of full, but then we saw the wagon with one lone lady and her walker, so we figured the crowds had thinned. Sure enough, we got the last ride of the morning, and had to share with no one! Double sweet! We were enjoying our very relaxing ride behind the mellow Edward the Horse (Mr. Ed!) when around one corner we came horse-to-headlights with a big, loud garbage truck. This loud smelly beast cause our quiet, not-as-smelly beast start skittering around quite nervously. We three, in turn, felt our insides start skittering around just as nervously. I replayed every When-mellow-beast-go-nuts video I had ever seen and made the decision that should Edward go from Riverdance to Chariots of Fire I would leap protectively on my diminutive mother-in-law, and prayed that my husband would then leap protectively on both of us. Fortunately, the brave resolve of either/both of us was not tested, as one of our drivers led Edward the horsey quietly past the noisy, trash-eating behemoth - only to have us come horse-to-headlights again at the front of the building. It was our time to get out. We did.
After escaping being the next you-tube feature about crazed horses and wagons, we, and the others of Las Fuentes, were entertained by cloggers. No, these are not people who stuff wrong things down potties or drains, but country-style tap dancers. Very energetic and fun! I loved the little girl who did her solo dance to Lady Gaga. Cloggin' to Gaga. What a great way to celebrate this country!!!
And then, we were off to the highlight of the day. While we were headed to a July 4th BBQ at a Lavender Farm about 30 miles away, and that was fun, that wasn't the highlight of which I speak. Not even close. Our treat for the day came in the person of a proper British lady named, Grace - Joann's best friend. Having heard so much about her from Don's mom, we were eager to meet her. Since we were giving her a ride to the dinner, we would have that blessing! Now, how to describe the lovely Miss Grace....picture, if you will, a mash-up of Mrs. Doubtfire, Queen Elizabeth II, and Dame Edna. Rather tall, a shock of white hair, and a lively face was my first impression of the 80-something-year-old - and than we heard her speak. Her speaking voice has more pitch and volume changes than Jay Leno. Grace and Joann chatted like schoolgirls in the back seat while Don and I were just enjoying the entertainment. We headed north on US 89 to Chino Valley - the location of the lavender farm and dinner party. As we headed into the more open country areas on our way, Grace said that we should be looking for....and she couldn't quite remember what the animal was, but it was kind of a deer....but not a deer....but smaller.... Having grown up on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, and then grown semi-old on watching Animal Planet and Nat Geo, I said "do you mean Pronghorn Antelope?" "oh, no no no, that's not it," Grace assured me. A few miles more of Grace trying to remember the exact name of the animal, I offered again, "gee, it sounds like a pronghorn antelope." Suddenly, at a decibel level normally reserved for Heavy Metal bands, came from the back seat "AUNTILOOP!!! YEEES!! THAT'S IT!! AUNTILOOP!!" My beloved demonstrated exceptional control of the car and kept us on the road despite the heart stoppage and intense ringing in his ears. So, we now knew to look for auntiloop- uh, antelope to and from our lovely dinner at the lovely lavender farm. We never saw any, but the enthusiastic search made the trip pure joy! We arrived back at the gate for Grace's community, and it was then she realized she had forgotten her gate clicker. She also realized that the majority of her neighbors were at the community clubhouse 4th of July party. After a few profanities (somehow, when they are spoken with proper British enunciation, they are just not as offensive), and a few attempts at finding one neighbor's number on the directory, we managed to get buzzed in and take this wonderful lady to her home. Lest I give the impression that Grace is some kind of caricature of a British Lady, I should tell you that she was once a tennis player of championship caliber and she was a Traffic Safety Engineer. Grace is quite something. And she was, indeed, the highlight of our adventures!
Our return home was just as much fun - but not so fun was the phone call from the RV place where our coach was supposed to be READY!! Essentially, Don's side of the conversation was like this, "Really? What about the shower. Not til when? Well, how about the jacks and sideout? Uh-huh. How much? What about the inverter? Really. How much? So you not only need my left kidney, but my wife's as well." Yeah. Fortunately, our son opened his comfy apartment, and 6 days after the coach was supposed to be done, we picked it up with only half of the stuff done. Egad. But, PRAISE GOD, Don was able to convince these yahoos that we really shouldn't pay for stuff that wasn't done. Imagine that. We now have called on our favorite mobile RV guy to fix all these things that were going to cost us a few internal organs and a couple gallons of blood. We can actually pay this wonderful guy and stay financially - and physically - intact. God is sooo good.
So, we get to sit still for a while these things get handled. I can get the last chapter of my novel finished. Maybe I can throw some paint on these canvases I've had for about three months. But not tonight. I have to stop now. I bet your eyes are happy to hear that.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
...and in This Corner....
In Genesis 32:22-32, we read about the wrestling match of the...well...forever. Jacob wrestles with a "man", who, in actuality, is THE MAN - God Himself. Talk about a mismatch. Mini-Me Would have a better chance against Andre the Giant. In verse 25, we are told that that after an all night bout, the "Man" discovered that He had not prevailed - in other words, they tussled to a draw. Right. God could have held Jacob away, like the big brother keeping a palm on the much littler brother's forehead, while the little guy whirls away like a windmill in a hurricane. God CHOSE to let Jacob wrestle with Him all night. Then God did something which might look a little spiteful at first glance: He touched Jacob's hip and it blew out of the socket. Wow. That's power. So, it's not as though the Lord had met His match. He just had His reasons for letting this mere man wrestle The Creator to a tie.
I've been feeling a bit like Jacob of late - not in the Father-of-Nations way, but in my own personal bout with the Lord. At times I have felt like He has had me in an impossible hold, but considering He could squoosh me like an ant, a half-nelson is not half-bad. He allows me to fuss and cry and whine and try to overpower Him and His will, in order to have a free and clear path to exercise my own. And I don't just want His permission, or even be pleased with His blessing. Nope. I want God to facilitate my wish list.
We are still kind of meandering here in Riverside County. We are here in our first choice for RV parks, but we may have to move out tomorrow for the weekend. Unfortunately, we can't go back to the cul-de-sac that the kids live on. Seems you have to have a permit from the city of Temecula. I found that out about a week ago when I was tappy-tapping away and one of Temecula's finest came along side to give me a ticket. The real corker was that my Don was out with Kyle previewing properties, and I don't know how to move the beast known as the motorhome. So, I looked pathetic enough to rate a one hour reprieve - enough time for me to make a fairly panicked call to my hubby, the captain of this ship, start packing up for moving, all the while having a SERIOUS chat with God. So, God let me wrestle with Him. Fortunately, Pechanga RV Park has a massive parking lot adjacent where they allow folks to park for a few days at a time, so we were covered. But I still insisted upon tussling with my Heavenly Father. It was a tough night, but the next day, I began to see His abundant mercy...again.
We did move in to the park the next day, but by then I was completely without voice, thanks to a nasty cough I had been entertaining for a week. Now, Don's glee notwithstanding, I had a class to teach at a marriage retreat in Palm Springs in five days. I texted my teaching partner, who immediately responded back that she had been hit in the head by a basketball - passed, ironically, by her own daughter - and now had a minor concussion. At this point, we both realized that it wasn't God we were wrestling, but the enemy himself. And he fights dirty. On top of the physical drama, we had to move out of the park again, because of the Temecula Wine and Balloon (the big hot air-I-wouldn't-ride-in-one-on-a-bet type, not the make-fun-animals type) Festival, and the place was sold out. So, Friday we packed up and moved back to the lot, then drove over the nearby mountains into Palm Springs, where all went beautifully!! Praise God! We came back on Sunday, moved back into the pretty park - and I began the tussle with God once again.
In my little head, I guess I thought that I had done all that God wanted me to do - I was at both weddings, made Gregory's graduation, and taught at the Marriage Getaway. "OH, AAAAABBAAAA FAAAAAATHER!!!!I'M AAAAALL DONE!!!!!" hmmmm.... I'm still here.... The wrestling resumes. I find myself wanting to know the exact end date - when we will be returning to our island home. I want to know exactly WHY al this happened in the first place. After all, had God let those deals close we could have afforded to come over here on our own, right!?!? But 55:8 says it clearly and succinctly: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways, declares the Lord." Huh. In other words, I won't be running for God too soon, and He won't be asking my opinion on how I think the world - even MY world - should be handled.
Remember Jacob getting his hip blown out of the socket by a mere pinkie touch of God? Of course you do. It was just five paragraphs earlier. God demonstrated His own power, as well as making Jacob walk with a hitch in his giddyup for the rest of his days. Even with all that, Jacob clung to the Lord, much as a three-year-old clings to her father's leg when she does not want to be separated from him. Jacob clung and would not let go until God had blessed him. God gave Jacob that, plus a new name - Israel. From him, a whole people sprung. Holy cats, that's some blessing. So, then what would be so hard about giving me what I want? Because, quite clearly, it is not in GOD'S plans for what He wants for me.........(sigh!)
Does this mean I will stop wrestling with God? I'd like to say that I will never do that again, but somehow that seems to lack sincerity. Or any possibility of being true. If anything, I would like to wrestle in order to cling closer to my heavenly Father. I would ask Him to give me more faith, and set my heart even more on fire for Him, so when He asks me to do something that is annoying or painful or stressful, I do it with joy, not whining. If I cling to Him, let it not be like that tempermental child who wants what she wants when she wants it. Let me simply cling with all my heart to the One who loves me.
I've been feeling a bit like Jacob of late - not in the Father-of-Nations way, but in my own personal bout with the Lord. At times I have felt like He has had me in an impossible hold, but considering He could squoosh me like an ant, a half-nelson is not half-bad. He allows me to fuss and cry and whine and try to overpower Him and His will, in order to have a free and clear path to exercise my own. And I don't just want His permission, or even be pleased with His blessing. Nope. I want God to facilitate my wish list.
We are still kind of meandering here in Riverside County. We are here in our first choice for RV parks, but we may have to move out tomorrow for the weekend. Unfortunately, we can't go back to the cul-de-sac that the kids live on. Seems you have to have a permit from the city of Temecula. I found that out about a week ago when I was tappy-tapping away and one of Temecula's finest came along side to give me a ticket. The real corker was that my Don was out with Kyle previewing properties, and I don't know how to move the beast known as the motorhome. So, I looked pathetic enough to rate a one hour reprieve - enough time for me to make a fairly panicked call to my hubby, the captain of this ship, start packing up for moving, all the while having a SERIOUS chat with God. So, God let me wrestle with Him. Fortunately, Pechanga RV Park has a massive parking lot adjacent where they allow folks to park for a few days at a time, so we were covered. But I still insisted upon tussling with my Heavenly Father. It was a tough night, but the next day, I began to see His abundant mercy...again.
We did move in to the park the next day, but by then I was completely without voice, thanks to a nasty cough I had been entertaining for a week. Now, Don's glee notwithstanding, I had a class to teach at a marriage retreat in Palm Springs in five days. I texted my teaching partner, who immediately responded back that she had been hit in the head by a basketball - passed, ironically, by her own daughter - and now had a minor concussion. At this point, we both realized that it wasn't God we were wrestling, but the enemy himself. And he fights dirty. On top of the physical drama, we had to move out of the park again, because of the Temecula Wine and Balloon (the big hot air-I-wouldn't-ride-in-one-on-a-bet type, not the make-fun-animals type) Festival, and the place was sold out. So, Friday we packed up and moved back to the lot, then drove over the nearby mountains into Palm Springs, where all went beautifully!! Praise God! We came back on Sunday, moved back into the pretty park - and I began the tussle with God once again.
In my little head, I guess I thought that I had done all that God wanted me to do - I was at both weddings, made Gregory's graduation, and taught at the Marriage Getaway. "OH, AAAAABBAAAA FAAAAAATHER!!!!I'M AAAAALL DONE!!!!!" hmmmm.... I'm still here.... The wrestling resumes. I find myself wanting to know the exact end date - when we will be returning to our island home. I want to know exactly WHY al this happened in the first place. After all, had God let those deals close we could have afforded to come over here on our own, right!?!? But 55:8 says it clearly and succinctly: "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways, declares the Lord." Huh. In other words, I won't be running for God too soon, and He won't be asking my opinion on how I think the world - even MY world - should be handled.
Remember Jacob getting his hip blown out of the socket by a mere pinkie touch of God? Of course you do. It was just five paragraphs earlier. God demonstrated His own power, as well as making Jacob walk with a hitch in his giddyup for the rest of his days. Even with all that, Jacob clung to the Lord, much as a three-year-old clings to her father's leg when she does not want to be separated from him. Jacob clung and would not let go until God had blessed him. God gave Jacob that, plus a new name - Israel. From him, a whole people sprung. Holy cats, that's some blessing. So, then what would be so hard about giving me what I want? Because, quite clearly, it is not in GOD'S plans for what He wants for me.........(sigh!)
Does this mean I will stop wrestling with God? I'd like to say that I will never do that again, but somehow that seems to lack sincerity. Or any possibility of being true. If anything, I would like to wrestle in order to cling closer to my heavenly Father. I would ask Him to give me more faith, and set my heart even more on fire for Him, so when He asks me to do something that is annoying or painful or stressful, I do it with joy, not whining. If I cling to Him, let it not be like that tempermental child who wants what she wants when she wants it. Let me simply cling with all my heart to the One who loves me.
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