A Heart of Tree

I'm fixated by heart shapes in nature (see Healing my Heart this Valentine's Day).

Yesterday we took a break to walk and explore the island. On the way back to our campground, I came across another heart. I'm not the only person with a camera capturing nature hearts. Sometimes these hearts are unbelievably astounding while at other times it's a huge stretch. Have a peek at the 2012 collection by Adventure Journal. Most of my heart sightings are more of a stretch than awe inspiring. But it's warming my heart to engage in this fun little treasure hunt between me and God and I hope it warms your heart to join me in this charming diversion.

Day 4 - At Home on the Road - Under the Trees

That's right. Just minutes ago, I was on my back, basking in this vision of trees, upside down, in my "living room." 

Seems like vacation, doesn't it. But my responsibilities are the same as they have been for the last 4 years as a Stay at Home Mom. Nothing has changed, other than the location. I'm learning to take these 5 minute, upside down, breaks.  At roughly 11:00, every morning, I start to feel like the urgent tasks and demands are becoming a runaway train. And the day is not half over. And I've completely lost steam. And...

... and that's when I go upside down. Five minutes like this and I'm ok again, ready for another round. I could have been doing this a long time ago, but it's just doesn't inspire me to stare at the ceiling of a typical living room.

This was yesterday around 11:00... same routine. Re-directing blood flow to my brain. Resting. Letting it all go for a moment. Doctors can explain the health benefits of this pose, but this five minute simple new habit is changing my life. At the end of the day, I feel like I'm living part work, part vacation, and I'm happier all the way around.

Chris and I knew we had to try this RV lifestyle, but we also knew we might try it and dislike it. It's day 4 and I'm here to tell you we are still in SET UP MODE. We are still shouldering the extra work of unpacking and organizing, on TOP of normal life with babies, and I'm still in love with this new life! If I'm going to have moments of sheer exhaustion and emotional freak out, I'd much rather do it out here under a canopy of trees in 73 degree weather, than in suburbia. 

I know RV life isn't for all of you. RV life is meant for some, but not all, so I hope my posts inspire ALL of you to pursue what makes you happy. I'm talking about deep down, soul healthy, type of happy. Make it realistic and attainable, then pursue it and DO IT. Be patient. My dream of living as a nomad started 7 years ago. (If truth be told, it really started 30 years ago, when I was reading the Boxcar Children series.) So be patient when it seems like your dream will never happen.

My three year old took this photo yesterday. Usually I praise her up and down for her camera learning skills and then quietly delete, but this one captures a joy that is not staged.

Images from Day 2, 3 & 4.....

Installing rain gutter extentions

(isn't he awesome??? He is a highly successful desk nerd with numbers and he is also an eager and skilled handy-man, tackling outdoor living and a huge diesel beast of a machine!)

It is GOOD to have a Mommy who likes to do face painting EVERY DAY!

I know. It looks staged for a Gander Mountain ad. But there was nothing staged here except the part where I told them to re-create the part where they looked at each other adoringly just moments before. 

Samantha's new favorite activity... Mommy and Daddy story telling. (Stay tuned for more details about this in a future post)

Coming soon: Specific practical solutions for doing RV life with babies...

Some of you have asked for inside pics. Stay tuned...

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.