Always Moving - Always at Home - We are now RVing!

Have you ever heard the saying, "Not all those who wander are lost?"
As I write to you today, I am in an RV, traveling down the road with my husband, toddler and infant. This mobile moving vehicle is, for the next four months, our only home. And we planned it this way!

How did we get here.

Some people are meant to live in one house or one town for a lifetime. There are pleasures that can only be experienced by staying for decades, such as watching one tree start from a sapling and grow for 70 years. Nothing can replace the knowledge and expertise about the culture and rhythms of one location available only in the brain of someone who has lived there 50 years, except maybe someone who has lived there 100 years.

In 2016, in the United States, I do not often bump into someone who has lived in one location for 70 years or more. When I do meet these people, I am fascinated. Talking for only a few minutes, I find these are deeply interesting people.

Most of my friends, and most of the people I read or hear about, fall into a second category. They move a handful of times during their lifetime. Typically they have one or two childhood homes, another home (or dorm) in a college town, and three more homes throughout the remainder of their life. I have spent my first 37 years of life primarily hanging out with these type of people.

Then there is a third group of people; people I bump into as rarely as the first group; these folks move or travel constantly. I am not fascinated by those who live this lifestyle and hate it and feel trapped by it or do it because they are running from life's problems. I am fascinated by those who have intentionally embraced this lifestyle and are genuinely happy living it. This is the group of people who fascinate me more than anyone. Maybe it's because I want to be like them. Or maybe I feel a unique connection with them because my soul was born to be part of this group.

I started my life deeply upset by change. From age one to four I lived in a green house with my parents. My sister was born and a year later we moved to a bigger house across town, a pretty white house with black shutters. At first I thought the move was exciting, but within a few days I realized we were never going back to the green house and I went into a state of mourning. For weeks I visited Mom and Dad's upstairs bedroom to gaze out the window longingly at the roof of our old house, which I could see across town. I remember the pain of this distinctly. The confusion. The disillusionment. Mom claims I rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth in my child size rocker, searching for comfort. As time went on, I learned to love my new home. We stayed for 13 years. By the time we left that house, I felt ready to go. I was 17, reaching adulthood, ready for new adventure. But the girl in the rocking chair was not gone. I still had a deep desire to find a place my soul most connected with and put down roots and build a home for life. At 24, I sobbed my heart out when my husband's job moved us for the third time in 3 years. 

Today I can say we have moved 12 times in 15 years together. It wasn't until a year and a half ago I finally realized I was living the life of a gypsy and I actually like this life. (See September 2014 post) Instead of feeling trapped in this lifestyle or pushing hard to change it, my heart finally embraced it... or at least part of it. For me, when I'm constantly on the move, setting up and tearing down in big stationary houses is frustrating and feels like a waste of time. Thus, we are headed towards making our nomadic life more efficient.

We sold our house in Alabama a month ago. A few days later we bought a house in Virginia, where we will live for four years while Chris gets his PHD at Virginia Tech. While embracing the nomadic life, simultaneously we are making changes to build a healthier lifestyle for children, meaning less work related travel separating us and more travel together as a family. We bought an RV and are hitting the road for 4 months! Our dream is to eventually take a year off from work to travel the country. For now we are starting with four months. If we love it as much as we expect, we will hop in our mobile home every summer during school break and explore everything possible. The ironic reality is, by embracing the nomadic lifestyle, we have finally come "home." There is now more potential for a sense of permanent residence in this "home" which moves with us, intact, wherever we go. After years of moves, paring down a little more each time, we have finally pared down (almost) enough for full time RV life.  My dream is full time RVing, working on the road. For now it is part time. Somehow, by sheer luck and blessing, I happened to marry a guy who shares these dreams even though we never discussed it before marriage. Our attraction was pretty basic 21 year old priorities.

Chris and I have been living the life of nomads, for 15 years, without aiming to and without knowing what this type of life is all about and how to flourish in it. Career just kept sending us somewhere new. It's about time we learned how to make the best of who we are and what we've been given. 

Our intention is to learn over the next few years and beyond. For example, we've all been told humans need community to thrive. What does community look like when you frequently move and travel? What do you do when you love to plant a garden, but you're never home long enough to see the entire process through from planting to harvest? These are questions we will be exploring along the way, over the next few years. Please join me on this journey. Be part of my community. Please? I need you. Read, write, post comments, etc. Give advice if you have experience with this lifestyle.

I've always been perplexed by that phrase on mugs and bumper stickers, "Not all those who wander are lost." I think I understand now; I am a wanderer and I feel more sense of "belonging" in the last month, with this identity and in my new mobile home, than I ever have in my entire life.  

As a teenager, I confided to my Dad that I felt "lost." I couldn't explain why and he didn't question me or try to fix it. He seemed to understand what I meant even though he didn't have a solution for me.  

I no longer belong to any one city or state, but Dad... I'm no longer lost. 

Ten Cents for Valentine Magic

What does a three year old need for Valentine's Day? Love, a warm hug, a smile, and the opportunity to pass love on to someone else, is all this little girl in the picture above needs.

You can find a hundred cute ideas to make easy magic for a three year old. It could be as simple as a sheet of paper, marked with lines and scribbles, given to Sister or Daddy, but this girl does that in her spare time nearly every day. Gifts are her constant love language, sometimes several times a day. When she doesn't have access to paper and ink, it's anything she can get her hands on; a coffee table coaster, a stuffed animal, a small plastic Disney figure, you name it. If it's in the house, she will find something to wrap it in, even if it's a napkin. Then comes the presentation. With flair and theatrics, she presents her gift, and you'd better be ready to receive it with delight if you don't want heart break and a crestfallen face.

It takes creativity to make unique magic for a girl who makes magic every single day with common objects. My Mom delivered. A Valentine box arrived in the mail two days ago. In it were goodies for her granddaughter and what was the most magical gift of all? Magic lay in a ten cent creation to pass on to the birds in our yard. My daughter LOVES to spot birds, chase them, sing about them. Giving our birds a Valentine present was sheer genius. 

You can make this bird feeding treat in three minutes with string, Fruit-loops and a wire pipe cleaner, all for about ten cents. (crafting pipe cleaner can be found in the kids craft section at Walmart.) 

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

Christmas Glow

Another little Christmas miracle; I am at the beach, my favorite place in the world, on this Christmas Day.  I aim for Christmas perfection every single year, but I don't get Christmas perfection every year. I am very much aware that "Christmas perfection" is a combination of heart warming circumstances and a state of mind, the state of mind being the most crucial element. Therefore, I am especially grateful for the Christmas perfection I felt this year.  We have an ENORMOUS set of extended family.  No way are we able to gather everyone together most holidays.  But a few showed up at our door last night and kicked off one of our best Christmas celebrations ever.  

One of my favorite realities about our family is the flexibility of our Christmas traditions.  We have many traditions we draw upon depending what seems practical for the current year. Each year there are themes similar to previous years and themes brand new.  

This is our first Christmas at the beach.  After gifts were given and opened with love and thoughtfulness, same as every year, many rushed to change out of pajamas into beach clothes to bike down to the water's edge and jump, splash, build and toss sand, while others burned energy on the beach basketball court.

I love the beach because it's the one place in the world where everyone understands how to live in the moment.  No one expects a sand castle to last more than a few minutes or a few hours at best. Yet we throw all of our passion and joy into this effort as though we are sculpting the next Michelangelo. We don't grasp, stress or cling to this fleeting moment, knowing full well a similar moment might come again, but never with the exact same feeling. We enjoy and release it without question.

Christmas Day, on the other hand, is a holiday scarred with expectations unmet for many people.  I have shed my share of tears on Christmas Day for one reason or another.  Some of us give up and grow callus, loosing our childlike wonder.  Some of us spin our wheels harder, trying to force it, only making it worse.  I chose to simply try again every year with varying levels of success and failure, attempting, every year, to accept what IS. Striving and releasing. Striving and releasing.

Will we all get it right one day?  Will there ever come a time when the afterglow of Christmas perfection lasts forever?  Is it even possible, in this broken world, to live, all year long, in the true Spirit of the biggest Christmas miracle which took place two thousand years ago?  

I don't know.  If it's possible, I haven't succeeded yet.  I haven't made it all year long constant in the Spirit.  But I won't stop trying.  All of the heartache is worth it for these moments and the Promise that one day God will wipe away every tear from my eyes.  Death, grief and pain will cease.  In the meantime, let's cherish these moments that Glow. 

2015 is nearly finished. I send love to you, from my home to yours, and Merry Christmas. To all a goodnight. Lets wake up, drink coffee, or your preferred start up drink, open your door, breathe fresh air, and carry this glow into December 26th.

Birthday Pie this Thanksgiving Eve

Is this a Thanksgiving pie?  No... and Yes.  It was my birthday pie in September.  I often prefer pie over cake to celebrate my birthday. Following the lead of my 2.5 year old, it transformed from birthday pie into a pie of thanksgiving in a moment of Holiness. ("And a little child shall lead them.")

How fitting, as my little child loves to pretend with magic wands and poof one thing into another thing, transforming the first thing into a second, more awe inspiring thing.  

With delight, and with the help of her Daddy, she placed a birthday pie in front of me.  I took a deep breath, ready to blow out my candles, then paused... "Ummm, I don't know what to wish for!" I said dramatically, for her sake, yet sincerely asking the question in my own heart.  I continued aloud, "In recent years I wished for Samantha. Then I wished for Annabelle.  But I have both Samantha and Annabelle now and I don't know what to wish for now..."  A loaded silence filled the room, Chris, Kellie and Bryce, all witnesses to this scene.

Samantha stared at me thoughtfully for a minute. Then, with an air of sweetness and confidence that only a child can possess, she said, "You have to say thank you."

Jaws all around the room fell open.  Kellie sucked in the dramatic intake of breath representing the awe everyone felt.

I paused for a moment, my flesh struggling for only an instant.  "Do I give up my only opportunity all year to choose one important request in the presence of Whoever makes birthday wishes come true?" I silently asked my heart.  In the next instant, I smiled, the answer peaceful, obvious and wonderful, filling my soul.  "Yes, I said aloud, "My wish, this year, is to simply say Thank You."

And I blew out the candles.

The candle of  want:  GONE... "the Lord is my Shepard, I shall not want."

The candle of  worry:  GONE... "He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside quiet waters." ("Be still and know that I am God.")

The candle of  work:  GONE... "He restores my soul.  He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."  

The candle of  fear:  GONE... "Yes, even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.  Your rod and staff, they comfort me. 

The candle of  hunger, sickness and thirst:  GONE... "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  You anoint my head with oil.  My cup runs over."

The guiding light of all five candles, gone cold.  Warm darkness envelopes. 

The New Candle, visible only to the Eye of my Soul, comes into focus.  This eye opens, awakens, welcoming my 37th year of life.

Everyday Glory

My last post was about the importance of the present moment.  Today I want to talk about the sheer joy of having eyes to see something Holy and special in the plain and simple.  We are having one of those moments right now at our house.  Actually, a whole day filled with those moments.  I don't think I would have seen all of this today if I had not been staying present first.

After playing together for a while, we began to play separately.  My almost-3-year-old wandered off and returned to create the above scene.  It could be hard to see something special in the greater context of this general mess...  I could have focused on all the work she and I will have to do to straighten this later.  I could have let it make me feel tired and overwhelmed.

I also could have focused on the fact that she was playing with my electric candles from the bathroom.  I could have been bothered by her "messing" with my stuff.

Instead, it occurred to me that this moment was Holy.  As my worship music played in the background on my I-Phone, she was following my lead, in her own way, entering into the spirit of the moment.  I was offering my own gift of love to God, giving Him attention in the middle of my day and my own mess.  Music is my fastest doorway to seeing the Presence of God all around me.  She was entering the spirit of the moment in her own way, bringing gifts to present to me and her sister. 

I'm so glad I saw this moment and accepted it.  I took the candle-toy creation she offered.  We each held our own candle-toy creation up and offered it to the Lord.  Our typical morning worship through song became multi layered and even more beautiful with Samantha's added offering.  Annabelle, three months old, too small to hold anything, but there was a candle in front of her nonetheless.

Some people do Advent candles during the holidays.  Occasionally I've thought of participating.  I might not feel the need to do it this year.  My heart is full of these candles and this moment.  It may just carry me through the next two months without the time, energy and thought it takes to intentionally create traditions.  It's a good time for me to be unburdened by traditions.  A time when it's taking most of my energy to sustain the life of a three month old and attend the needs of an energetic little girl.

I wish each one of you had been here to experience this moment with us.  But we are here and you are there.  At your desk, at a stop light, on your couch, in a waiting room, you name it... wherever you are, I'm calling you, drawing you in through the Internet, to join me.  What moment are you experiencing right now?  If you are feeling uninspired and cynical, stop everything you are doing for 3 minutes.  No matter how important your current task is.  Especially if you current task is important!  Stop everything for 3 minutes and ask Him to open your eyes and your heart.

Letter to the Woman Who Wants My Life

I wrote the following letter to an actual woman in my life.  She and I have had many conversations over the last few weeks about her longing for a baby.  I've shared many thoughts that she finds helpful in her attempt to wait patiently without succumbing to depression, but ultimately, I can't fix this struggle for her.  It's a battle she will face repeatedly, as we all do, and wrestle with on her own and find her own way through it.  But my heart goes out to her.  I was in her shoes for 10 years of waiting and wanting a baby.  I want to try to ease her burden as much as I can. I communicate my heart best through writing, so I put these words to paper for her and for all the women in her shoes I've talked to over the last 10 years.

I also wrote it for myself.  I wrote it to help me remember not to look back with longing to my former life without children, or look forward to my future life when they are grown, but to live in the present moment, fully thankful, fully joyful, fully fulfilled. This truth applies to every person, in every situation, in all walks of life.

Dear Friend, Sister, Colleague, and Woman passing me in Walmart,

You see me and you desire what I have.  I'm not going to lie.  My life is blessed.  It's not wrong to desire what I have.  I have two adorable little girls who offer joy every day, whether I see it and enjoy it or not.  I want you to have what I have.  Children are a delight.  My life is charming in so many ways.  I have a roof over my head, food on my table and three people in my household who love me, not to mention your love for me and the love I feel from at least a hundred friends around the world.

You see me and desire what I have, and it's hard for you to grasp why my life is so challenging for me at times. You can't fathom why I would have any reason to curl up in a ball on the closet floor occasionally and cry my heart out just exactly like you do occasionally.

You see me and desire what I have, so I'm going to try to paint a better picture of exactly what it is I have.....

I am 150% thankful for this life and the babies in it.  I wouldn't change a thing. The reason I am agonized, at times, is because I have a high standard for wanting to live my life to the best of my ability and do a good job with what I have been given. I want to fully enjoy my babies while they are little before it's too late and I don't want to waste a minute.  It stresses me out every time a well meaning stranger says in passing, "Enjoy every minute... they grow up too fast."  I do have many glorious moments of enjoying them. But it's just not humanly possible for every moment to feel glorious. Many times the exhaustion is overwhelming and it's not possible to fully appreciate the babies in those moments. This reality is a grief to me, but nothing can be done about it. This is the plight of motherhood. The act of being a mother is primarily a sacrificial gift of love. Love for the children you are raising and love for all the people who will be blessed by them. God's primary purpose in giving us children is not for personal gratification. However, for mothers who are blessed with wisdom and vision, those mothers can see that it is more blessed to give than to receive. This is the truth that can sustain us in the many, many hard moments. Yes, there are many.

Yet, fortunately, there are also many moments of sheer delight and joy and personal fulfillment in the act of being a mother. It's an added bonus.

I'm an idealist, so I have unrealistic expectations that tell me that if I am doing everything correct, and am the best mother I can be, all moments will feel glorious and wonderful at all times. This is just not true. I know you are an idealist too, so I know you are likely to face this same challenge when you become a mother.

In those moments when things are HARD, I feel guilty because they are hard. I make it EVEN MORE HARD on myself by thinking it's my fault and if I was just a better mother, this would be easier.  Certainly there are times when I make things harder than they need to be with my shortcomings. But there are plenty of times when I have the right attitude and I'm doing everything right and it is still just plain HARD.

When we are in a season of infertility or when we are intentionally waiting to have children, many of us women look at mothers with babies and we want their life, not because we are eager to sacrifice our lives for others, but because we think their life would be more fun than the life we are currently living. And when we hear that those mothers are struggling, we think that they must not be grateful enough for what they have. I admit, certainly there's the occasional ungrateful mother out there, but I highly suspect that most mothers are like me..... SO grateful that they want to do the best job possible and they are beating themselves up trying to do just that. And if you're a good mom, you are going to do the same thing when it's your turn.

So try to stop beating yourself up now, thinking your life isn't full enough now. Try to see your life now and your future life raising babies, not as two separate lives, but as one life.  If babies are in your future, you are already making sacrifices for those babies right now and preparing yourself to be a better mother when they come.  The life experiences you are living now are preparing you for whatever unique challenges you will face in your own private walk as a mother. If you get used to and embrace sacrifice now, it won't be as rude an awakening when sacrifice is an unavoidable reality during motherhood.

So please continue to dream, continue to look forward to the arrival of a baby.  Don't shut your emotions off to protect yourself from the pain of waiting, as I did.  Keep longing, keep desiring, keep waiting so that when your dreams finally do come true, you will be open, ready and excited to receive.  But wait with more awareness of what lies ahead, both the joy and the heartache.  Enjoy your current season of life so that you don't look back and feel you wasted it by pining away for the future.  I have to do the same thing right now.  I have to discipline my mind regularly, telling it to stay in the present moment and not pine away for a future of grown children that will come all too quickly.  If you learn to stay in the present moment now, you'll be better prepared to stay in the present moment and enjoy as much as possible when your glorious babies do come.

This truth applies to every person, in all situations, in all walks of life.