Northward Bound - Highway Pictures - Goodbye, Georgia!

What a gorgeous day to be on the road. Blue sky and cool breeze pave the road ahead as I write to you now. Below is the view from my windshield!

We're pressing Northward. You'll never believe the beautiful location waiting for us in North Carolina. In the meantime, where have we been the last 5 days?

Saturday, our journey began in Southeastern Georgia.

It all started with an early morning discussion over cheerios. 

It was our first major drive from one location to another. During projects like this, both Chris and I tend to focus on a task list and end goal and become stressed and snippy with one another. We often miss joy available in the journey. We've both heard that the journey is equally important as the destination. Nonetheless, we get emotionally attached to a time frame in which we want to accomplish a goal (such as arriving at the next campground by a certain time - Chris) or we rush through the "mundane tasks" to hurry up and get to the "fun part" (Kara). For example, I detest packing and unpacking, but I've been trying to view this task as an enjoyable life experience. I didn't manage to stay in this lovely frame of mind all day, but for a moment, at the start of the day, I paused my morning dishes to dance with Annabelle.

The freedom to "meander" is, after all, one of the reasons to go RVing. We must be getting better at this, because, literally, as I'm writing this, we just passed a sign for strawberries. I casually commented, as I usually would, "awww, we could pick strawberries," not actually expecting to stop. About 30 seconds later Chris says, "you wanna stop?" 

That did it. My heart is what stopped. We've arrived! We have officially entered the spirit of RVing. "Yes!" was my enthusiastic response.

As it turns out, they aren't open today. But at least we stopped. It's a start. Next time we will have the full unplanned experience. This time I'm satisfied because I chatted with a local for 5 minutes on the side of the road. He wanted to hear all about our RV trip, something he's dreamed of doing for years. Perhaps our detour lit another spark to push him towards his dreams.

Every time I have one of these impromptu conversations, I'm reminded of my Dad who never met a stranger. He didn't do small talk. Every day with him was an opportunity to inspire people to love Jesus, fix social injustice and pursue worthy dreams.

But I digress. We stopped for strawberries today. We were at Stone Mountain, in Northern Georgia for the last three nights between Jekyll Island and our next location. Stone Mountain attractions were mostly closed for the slow season, so we didn't end up doing much there, other than enjoying the playground, which was enough to thrill our three year old. We also surprised her with a trip to the Atlanta Zoo where she met up with her best friend, Mari. Samantha and Mari have been neighbors for 2 years, which amounts to the majority of their lives. Mari will return to Japan at the end of 2016 and we will move to Virginia, but Samantha and Mari are deeply sad to be separated. Samantha does not miss the "Birmingham house," but she does miss Mari. I wish you could have seen them spot one another at the Zoo entrance, shout one another's names, and run, like a scene from a movie, falling into a delighted embrace. Samantha and Mari led us four parents through the park to point out each new animal with squeals. The highlight? Panda Bears. In the evening, as this glorious day slipped into memory, I was inspired to "computer paint" the following for the girls to save and remember always.

The location we have just pulled into now is a place I've dreamed of visiting for twenty years. I will post more tomorrow... right now I need to soak up this moment...

April at a Glance

We told stories...

folded mountains of laundry...

(laundry doesn't let up no matter what campground you hide in. But laundry became almost pleasant when I did it outside on the picnic table.) 

Grilled as many food groups as possible...

Welcomed visitors...

  

Puzzled both inside and outside...

This purchase is dynamite for RVers who love a good puzzle. Space is an issue, but not with this handy tote board. It slides under our bed when we are taking a break on a 2000 piece puzzle. This might even be genius for life in any home. You can find it at: http://www.bitsandpieces.com/product/puzzle_store/puzzle_organizers

And we told more stories...

Telling stories, instead of reading books, has become a favorite pastime. It all started 6 months ago when I told Samantha the story of "Mommy and Daddy's wedding" for the first time. This is a tradition started by my Dad. When my sister and I were small, we often stalled bedtime by asking Dad to repeat the story of his wedding day. Hundreds of times, we never tired of it.

The first time I recounted the events of my wedding day to Samantha, I found myself laughing at unexpected moments. Certain traditions, like the cutting of the cake, take surprising creativity to explain to the mind of a three year old. For example, why did Mommy and Daddy "feed eachother" the cake like they feed baby Annabelle? We both nearly wet our pants laughing over this one. And then there was the end of the story where a huge crowd of adults stands outside to blow bubbles all over us as we hold hands and run to our car and hop in and drive away to live happily ever after. Adults blowing bubbles at us? It really becomes illogical and hysterical through the eyes of a child.

We did much more during the month of April. I will share more in a future post. In the meantime, if you want to see photos of Samantha's Cinderella Carriage Ride, click here

When the Wind is Stronger than Your Roots

It was Day 4 or 5, mid afternoon, Samantha was just finishing a nap and I was preparing to put Annabelle down to start a nap when I got a call from Chris. He told me to get the girls ready. As soon as he arrived home, we were going to jump in the Jeep with him and check out a beach he stumbled across while away running errands. I LOVE IT when he does this. Usually he is counting on me to make fun plans for the family. I love it when he surprises me with a cool plan. Annabelle would survive a missed nap. Early bedtime or something.

THIS is the beach. Driftwood Beach. Have you heard of it? I never had. I forgot my camera in the excitement of jumping in the Jeep. We parked, walked down an enchanted, narrow path through the woods and stepping out into this scene, my jaw dropped. I was in awe. I'd never seen anything like this before. I asked Chris for the keys and I raced back to the campground to get my camera. My mind was already forming this blog post for you.

THIS is what happens when the wind and water are stronger than our roots.

It's beautiful in a way.

And this? Seriously? It looks like a giant sci-fi spider.

This next one... See it? A torn heart?

Here... I'll draw the top back in for you...

These giant, majestic trees...

There will ALWAYS be something more giant, more majestic.

Extra strong, this one. But his time will come.

I've been discussing the subject of roots and change on this blog for years. What an amazing visual to illustrate this topic. 

At 4 years old, my roots were deeply dependent on that green house on Cherokee Lane. (read: April 3rd Post for that story.) Yet 36 years of moving led me to write a post in 2014 about planting my roots in a different Source. (see post: October 2, 2014) Little did I know that 12 days later my husband would arrive home early from work to carefully deliver the news that my Dad had shot himself. Suicide is an event of high winds far stronger than any relocation from one house to another.

I am still on a journey of transplanting roots of my heart from the shakable to the unshakable. Just because I'm RVing, doesn't mean I have this root thing all figured out.

Lately I've been asking myself the following question: What does that ancient text mean when it says,

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

How, exactly, do I store my treasure in heaven? When I kiss my daughter goodnight, is that action kept, for safekeeping, in heaven? I can't capture every precious, glittering moment on camera, and even if I could, moth and rust will eventually destroy it, even if I store photo albums carefully for 150 years of grandchildren. Are all these beautiful moments being saved in heaven somewhere for my later enjoyment? Am I storing up treasure in heaven when I wash dishes? Or give a homeless man a bag of groceries? Is it only certain actions that get put into heavenly storage or is it the Spirit in which we do it? Another text says,

"if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing."

Those are the questions I'm asking myself as I soak up each sparkling, temporary moment with my family this Spring and Summer. I take incredible, unspeakable joy from my small family and yet, God and I have had our moments alone. He and I know that He is enough for me. He knows He is the only One who fills my heart with the best and most Ultimate Joy which never disappoints. Yes. I have felt that sentiment. It is real. In my darkest moments and in my highest moments. Sometimes I loose touch with this Truth, but it's always there when I remember and reach for it again.

(Oh Jesus, please don't test me again on this commitment now that I've said this in front of all these people.) 

Fear or no fear, it needs to be said. He is my first Love. My heart longs to be with Him. It always has. From the very first moment I learned of Him. My passion only increases the older I get. Ever heard the words to that song on the radio?.... "everybody want to go to heaven, nobody wanna go now."

That's me. I'm longing to go... just not quite ready yet.

Healing My Heart this Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day is almost here. Instead of sharing cute ideas for how to celebrate with your husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, children or friends, I want to talk about healing. Valentine's Day is often hard for people with broken hearts. 

On October 14, 2014, my Daddy, the first man I ever loved, committed suicide in a car, in the driveway of my parent's property, in Northern Virginia. This Valentine's Day will mark precisely one year and four months since this horrific event.

I have both grieved this event AND moved on with my life simultaneously since the moment I received this mind bending, heart stopping news. Numbness and frozen shock, along with tears and heartfelt emotion were all present within the first 24 hours. Thus began a partial grief/healing process that would gently carry me through a pregnancy and the first months after her birth. On the surface, the symptoms of my grief were mild compared to the grief symptoms of other family members. I didn't have enough emotional or physical energy for an intense, emotional surgery of the heart. I was scheduled for physical surgery on October 15th, (the next day) to prepare my body for pregnancy. I didn't postpone the surgery, determined the circle of life was not going to be paused because of my father's death.

In reality, my grief experience did not begin on October 14, 2014. This day was simply the biggest element in a larger story of suffering which began roughly 27 years ago, when I was about 10 years old, as I watched my Daddy's life deteriorate before my eyes; bit, by bit, by bit. I was already accustomed to ignoring this pain to focus on the happy things of life.  It was not hard to continue on a larger scale.

Regardless of when my grief began, it is not yet complete. December 14th, 2015, two months ago, marked a new chapter in my evolution of grief. My body and mind decided it was finally time to give closer attention to this broken portion of my heart. A heart partially numb, partially paralyzed, partially dead. 

My heart is, and was, full of the joy of my husband and children. But I cannot counsel my children during their future griefs if I continue to ignore my own pain. I cannot speak truthfully with friends and family when they seek my perspective on grief if I have not walked my road with honesty.

My heart is healing and slowly beating again. Will there ever come a time when I can say I am fully healed? Maybe. Maybe not. There are many opinions. For now, I can say I am in love with my Creator.  

This year I've seen more symbols of the heart all around me in nature, more than I ever noticed before. I try to capture it with my camera when I see it...

The Prince of Peace has loved me unlike anyone could ever love me. He drew heart shapes in creation for me to discover. He GAVE me the breath of life when I stopped breathing and brushed death, mere moments after birth in 1978. He GAVE me the Daddy who rocked me in the hospital intensive care unit, singing the first songs I ever heard. He GAVE me a love for this Dad, later in life when he became harder to love.   

He, the Almighty God, GAVE me an incredible husband and two miracle baby girls. 

He GAVE me a Mom and sisters who have already dug deep into their own grief education for over a year. These women patiently waited for me to be ready and now have wisdom to offer, gathering around me as I join them on this journey.  

The following song and accompanying story, at the end of this post, is fanning the flame of my ever strengthening heartbeat.

If you have a grief in your life so big that words fail to express your depth of emotion, click the you tube link below and maybe this song will meet you the way it met me. If you do not have grief in your life, certainly you know friends or family who do. Celebrate this Valentine's Day with me in a non traditional way. Let's turn our gaze to the Great Physician, who heals broken hearts, enabling us to love others more deeply, fully, completely.

Engaging with our grief, in order to heal it, involves both surrender and participation.

Tell Your Heart to Beat Again - Danny Gokey

https://youtu.be/eUHRDCYnFfg