Hurdles to Relay Race

Hurricane Irene was predicted to devastate, demolish and destroy communities across North Carolina.  For the past week, we have been inundated with how destructive this storm was going to be.  Having lived in Florida for 3 years, I knew what I needed to do.  My husband would have had the checklist out and we would have read it off like a predeployment military supply list.  I knew we needed lots of drinking water and canned goods, in case we lost power and water.  Those were the "gimmes" on the list.  Then I made sure we had our electronics powered up, tubs filled with water for boiling, bathing or flushing, and the household chores were completed so I could just sit and wait out the storm.

Now, we're inland enough that I knew we wouldn't have the full force of the eye of the hurricane.  So, when friends would call, text or Facebook me with messages about how we were doing and how prepared we were, I assured them over and over again that we would be fine and were as ready as we'll ever be.  I truly believed that we were.  I had gone over my checklist.  I even turned the refrigerator and air conditioner to a lower temperature so that if we lost power, we wouldn't lose our food or cool air as quickly.  I was ready to have Little Man come and snuggle with me because of his dislike of all things storm-related.  This storm may have consumed the media for the past week, but it wasn't going to consume our family.  We were ready.

Until my front tree toppled over.  That wasn't on my checklist.  I didn't have any more power to secure the outside botanical life to the ground than I had control over the direction that Irene decided to take.  So, after watching the storm from the comfort of my bed and feeling pretty confident that we were through the worst of it, I headed out to our kitchen to grab some breakfast.  Since I had not touched my cell phone (not hubby's iPhone, but my other, non-smart phone), I grabbed it and saw I had a text.  My neighbor was checking up on me to see how we were doing and if I knew my front tree had fallen over.  I opened up the front blinds and was shocked to see this 20 ft. tree lying on the ground.  Praise God it fell away from the house, as the only thing it killed were the weeds that are grass impersonators.  All I could do was think, "I need to take pictures and post them on Facebook so my husband can see this!"  Right as I was snapping a few pictures,  my neighbor next door walks by with a hand saw, ready to tackle this project.  He thought we were out of town and was going to get started with the clean up for us.  This is where my perception of Irene takes a huge turn.

Neighbor after neighbor came out and a spontaneous block party formed in our front yard.  One neighbor brought his chain saw and oldest son. My other neighbor, who helped fix our riding mower, came over, as well as our neighbor who is a doctor.  Two pick up trucks, 4 adults, 6 children, hand saws, chain saw, gloves and good old-fashioned elbow grease all aided in our tree-removal.  What I thought would be a small, slow-moving process, which would include me having to call the rental office 2-3 times over the next week to get that tree removed, turned out to be a lightning-speed recovery that took less than 3 hours. 

What started out as a path of destruction ended up bringing a community together.  Being in a season where I'm a single parent, I saw that tree as an obstacle in my marathon race.  I wasn't afraid when I saw it fall.  It could have fallen the other way and possibly destroyed part of our home.  So, I knew that God's hand was in how that tree fell towards the street.  What I saw was a community that embraced helping one another in a time of need.  What Satan set out to steal, kill and destroy, God intended for good.  That tree became a catalyst for the men of our community to come out and help another man's family when he couldn't do the work himself.  I love seeing how that obstacle became a baton.  Instead of having to hurdle over the challenge individually, I find that we're now in a place where the baton was handed from one neighbor to another.  It isn't a solitary race; it's a relay.  We are all in this together.  

Our tree-less landscaping reminds me of how God WILL provide us with what we need, when we need it most.

Road Trip Recap

This summer has truly passed before my eyes.  I blinked, it was May and Rob was about to deploy.  I blinked again, and we're in the middle of August.  I'm not complaining AT ALL, but seriously, where did that time go?  Well, it was spent with my two MMOGs and our little Lucy, in our amazing black Saturn.  The Saturn has logged many miles this summer and she's carried tough loads.  The time away and the diversion of our eyes from the empty table setting helped us to keep our focus on what we could use to fill our cup instead of what was missing.

We did two major excursions: Florida and Michigan.  Florida was our longer trip.  We stayed with family, did Disney, hung out with friends and ended up relaxing in the Florida heat.  Somehow, the time we spent in Florida passed more quickly than I could have ever imagined.  In my family growing up, our mantra was always, "Fish and company smell in 3 days."  So, I was a bit concerned that we were going to be staying 10 times that amount.  Was I nuts?!?!? Would we be dirty, rotten catfish, turned belly-up in the family gene pool?  Only God could have allowed my mom and dad to enjoy having their daughter, 2 grandsons and grandpuppy stay with them for that long and not want to give us the old drop kick.  The memories we created were truly priceless!  Disney for my dad's 65th birthday celebration, camping with friends at the beach, seeing the boys hang out with their BF's, watching my mom jump into her pool while fully clothed.... only a month spent with family can produce memories that make you want to laugh over and over and over again. Thirty days is way too long to record every memory. Coming home was a necessary evil, as I only had 2.5 weeks before we headed back out again!  This time, our journey, and Saturn, took us north.

Michigan, here we come!  August in the south is nothing less than miserable.  Occassionally, it's broken up by a random thunderstorm, which clears the air and restarts the humidity back down to 90%.  So, when we left at the end of July, I was thrilled to be heading north where the lowered humidity and temperature levels would ensure I could breathe without a 50lb rock sitting on my chest.  We went through a ton of activities that my boys haven't had the joy of experiencing.  Gabe discovered that his ears got "bubbles" when we drove through the mountains of VA and WV.  He didn't like that very much and was relieved when we FINALLY got into OH.  The joy lasted about 5 minutes when he discovered how interesting OH was (not).  When we got to my father in law's house, we wiggled our toes in the freshly-cut northern grass.  For those in the south, there is nothing like grass from the north.  It's free of sand, disease and is super soft to these girly feet.  Lucy thought she had died and gone to doggy heaven.  She just kept running around like she was a little puppy again.  We had arrived.

The first few days in MI were slower - playing catch-up with my BF from when I was 10, catching a Tiger's game and roasting marshmallows with family and friends.  The next 5 days went by in a blur.  We went to the "thumb" of MI - you know, hold your hand out and you're looking at the state of MI.  So, go to the tip of the thumb and we were there.  My sister-in-law and her family were staying at the family cottage up there and invited us up.  We ventured off to join aunt, uncle, 6 girls (3 cousins, 3 friends) and 1 wildly adorable puppy (Lucy was at a friend's "doggy spa).  It was a blast! Beach time, campfires, walks on the sandy beaches, climbing the rocks, the farmers market, Duggin's ice cream, cousins playing cards, jumping off the sand dunes, walking on the boardwalk, and lots of great food.  Seeing as we only get to visit with this side of the family once a year, we took full advantage of our short but sweet time together.  After leaving the cottage, the boys and I drove to IN to see my sister. Again, the time was a fast-forward button, but we couldn't have had better memories. Boys playing catch and video games, dogs howling and figuring out who's the boss, sisters talking non-stop, and everyone trying to make the clock stop altogether (except my brother in law, who likes our family mantra about fish). LOL, just kidding.  The day after we got back to MI, we celebrated Christian's 12th birthday and I had to pack everything up for our return to the "blast furnace".  Sadly, with the cooler morning temps hovering at 55*, we left the wonderful euphoria of vacation to head back to our home. 

So, is this recap just a way of summarizing a crazy couple of road trips? No, it's a way of looking back and seeing that God provided amazing friends and family to help fill our hearts and minds with tons of love and laughter this summer.  I'm such a family girl and my best friend, my husband, is currently overseas.  Knowing how much my heart aches to be with my hubby, God helped me to plan lots of diversions to keep my eyes focused on what we are blessed WITH rather than what we are going without.  God has given me so much.  Rob and I are two of the most blessed people on this earth - we have a Savior who loves us unconditionally; and we have friends and family who can't wait to create memories to help fill our memory bank.  So, now that we're home, all we have to do is remember a fun time we've had this summer and the boys and I get to relive it again, and again, and again.  Sometimes it's looking through the pictures or videos, or just saying a "buzz" word that triggers uncontrolled giggling that takes us right back to the moment it happened.

Deployments are challenging, but knowing I have a husband who supports my need for speed and two adventurous boys who love road trips, helps me to know that we will survive and do more than that.  We will thrive.

Coming this Fall: Eastcoast road trip: DC, PA.

Memorial Day Reflections

Happy Memorial Day!  How did you spend today?  Just like most Americans out there, our usual fare for this day is to sleep in, cook up some hot dogs or hamburgers on the grill, enjoy the start of a more relaxed summer school schedule, and spend time together as a family. When we lived in Florida, we had the priviledge of spending time with family and swimming in a crystal clear pool. But, this year, one fourth of us is missing, so I knew we had to do things differently.  We attended a Memorial Day Ceremony at a park near our home.  Since our boys have never gone to a Memorial Day parade or celebration, I knew we could make it not only a military tribute to our fallen soldiers, but also an educational experience that they would never forget.

It was a clear, sunny day here in our hometown, and yes, the announcer said he had asked that the sky not send us the rain that had a 20% chance of falling.  The ceremony, which was held on a busy street across from our special operations museum, was fitting for the mood, but not the weather.  The weather was beautiful!  Hot, but sunny.  No chance of rain.  Rain usually brings in a somber, reflective mood, not a day to jump for joy.  That's why it seemed such a contrast to have sunshine instead of rain and clouds.

Memorial Day isn't a day of celebration like we usually think of a celebration.  When I think of a sunny celebration, I imagine balloons, cake, streamers, banners, joyful exaltations and praise streaming from the lips of those in attendance.  Memorial Day is more of an inward reflection of the gifts we have been given by those who have gone before us; those who saw fit to free us from tyrany or bondage or injustice.  Memorial Day isn't just a day to remember the troops, but to thank those who are willing to give their lives in order for us to keep our freedoms we have become so accustomed to in America. 

In reviewing this, I pondered the element of rain.  Rain would have been fitting for the occasion - except for our comfort. Rain brings us a watering for our souls as well as a washing of our bodies, cars, and grass.  As I looked around at the faces of those who were in attendance, I didn't see dancing in the streets, like we do when an Army unit returns from Iraq or Afghanistan.  I saw families who have experienced a deep watering of their souls - those who have served or who have a loved one who is serving overseas somewhere.  I saw the hollowness that comes with knowing that this day is more than just a bar-b-que with friends or family.  Pain of the loss of a loved one or the fear of the loss of a loved one was evident on most of the faces surrounding me - even in the midst of the smiles and laughter.  This is where the contrast existed; the weather told us to be sunny and bright and the mood spoke of heartfelt sorrow and sadness at those who have paid the ultimate price for our country's freedom.

Looking back on today, I feel blessed that I took advantage of what our community had to offer my boys and me.  We could have opted to stay home, hang out with neighbors and do the usual Memorial Day activities.  Honestly, we would have talked about this day and why it is so important to take time out of our usual routines in order to honor those who have paid the ultimate price for our freedom.  But, just like everything else I've learned about homeschooling, nothing sinks into our brains like a real-life experience.  I know that the boys will carry with them the memories of watching the 21 gun salute, hearing the somber ache of the bagpipes playing "Amazing Grace", seeing the Rolling Thunder reinact the Missing Man table, watching a 93-year-old man proudly carry his wreath to the WWII memorial plaque, and listening to the lonely sound of the bugle playing "Taps" at the close of the ceremony.  We will remember more about this day because of what we experienced today. 

It's a marathon, not a sprint.

Well, here it is.  That dreaded "D" word.  In military families, it's like a 4-letter word.  That time when life shuts down, bags are packed, we buy stock in kleenex ... we buy stock in just about everything under the sun just to make sure hubby has what he needs in order to head to the sandbox.  Emotions play the roller coaster game - one minute they are up and we're sailing and doing fine and the next minute we're hitting that dreaded downward spiral and feel like we're going to lose our head and stomach contents in a matter of minutes.

This isn't my first time through this, and it probably won't be my last, but it doesn't get any easier the 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th time around.  In fact, it might be easier the first time because we're naive enough to not know the process and how painful predeployments are compared with the actual deployment.  Twelve months seems like an eternity and it's days like this that make me feel like that number - 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months, 1 year - is a huge hurdle that made me stop rather than just soaring over it like it's nothing new.  I stand here and stare, like a gaping fool, at the absurdity of life for the next year without my best friend, lover, comedic relief, partner in just about everything and then some.  It's almost too much to grasp and handle emotionally - especially 2 days before I have to say "see ya soon" knowing full well it will be a good 6 months (mid-tour leave) before I'll get to see those amazing blue eyes in person again.

It's days like this, when the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I feel like I can't go on without feeling like I'm dragging sludge from one room to the next, that I remember God is literally carrying me. It's a literal reminder to me that He's in control.  My husband wouldn't be on a plane heading overseas if it weren't God's will.  It's easy to say that, and hard to truly live it.  Right now, the scriptures I meditate on throughout the summer seasons (see previous post for reference) are what carries me through these valleys and winters.  Friends who promise to pray for me have no idea how much it means to know that, in the valley of the shadow of death (figuritive), their prayers are there to help lift me out of the muck and the mire.  God IS a good shepherd and I, as part of his flock, have a heart that wants to wander into fear and the valley of discontent and not listen to the promises He has given to me throughout His Word.  When my friends stand in the gap for me, my wandering heart is reminded of God's Word that He will never (let me emphasize NEVER) leave me nor forsake me.  He will help me walk through this valley, through this winter season where part of me is pruned and dying off, so that when spring comes, He gets the glory and praise from these lips. 

So, friends, thank you so much for who you are and what you do.  The Lord has blessed me with your friendship - not because of what I "get" through your prayers, but in knowing that, without you, this journey would be much harder than it already is.  Jesus says, "where two or more are gathered in my name, I am with them...(Matthew 18).  No, my friends and I aren't literally in the same room, but I know that those prayers are heard from our Heavenly Father.  So, when I have days like today, when that hurdle seems to high for me to jump, and I just have to stop and stare like I can't go on, knowing those friends are praying for me helps me hop back into the race and keep running.  In the end, it doesn't matter if I finish first ... all that matters is that I finish. After all, it's a marathon, not a sprint.

Season of Change

Interesting journey I’m embarking on … the blogging world.  I’ve stayed as far from it as possible, but we’re entering into a season where my sanity will be tested time and time again.  Running has always been a good outlet for stress, but I will also need a way to “vocalize” my worries and fears and to remind myself who is in charge of this season in life.  Blogging seems like a nice outlet – almost like a prayer journal for all the world to see.

God allows seasons to take place for us to see a visual display of His work in our lives.  Seeds are amazing, living things.  When they are not actively growing, they are in full bloom, dying off or lying dormant.  I find that I, too, do that with the Lord.  If I’m not growing in Him, I’m blossoming, dying off or just lying dormant.  The last few years have been seasons of growth for me; I’ve grown deeper in my knowledge of the Word, fallen more in Love with my Savior and been blessed with friendships that both edify and strengthen that pruning process that makes true growth possible.  Jesus used so many visual parables – the mustard seed, the fig tree, the seeds on the ground.  God created the plants on the 3rd day of creation – before he created one tiny animal or Adam and Eve, he thought of how we would need to survive.

Knowing this, it’s awesome to know that the Creator of the Universe, my Jehovah Father, will walk with me through every season of life.  It’s not easy knowing a dark, wintery season is ahead of me.  I want the fullness of spring – fresh blooms, buds popping out of the dark, damp soil, tasting fresh air after a long, dreary winter.  I desire to see the heat of summer with full, vibrant blossoms glimmering in the sunshine.  I even envy the cooler nights of the fall season where it’s not cold enough to completely die off, but where we know what lies ahead.  I guess, that is where I’m at, actually.  I’m in the coolness of fall, knowing what lies ahead of me and how a part of my heart will lie dormant until the warmth of the spring season returns.
I’m not into this seasonal change, just yet.  I’m just reflecting upon what I know is to come and how I will adjust my mind to accept.  I will constantly use the Bible to encourage me, even though I’ll want to take on an Eyeore-like attitude.  Instead of looking deep within me for the answers, “I’ll lift my eyes to the hills; where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2) Why will I do this?  Because “He will not allow [my] foot to slip; He who keeps [me] will not slumber. Behold, He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. (Psalm 121:3-4) I know that the Lord, who gave me my springs and summers is going to sustain me and help me through my falls and winters.  So, when my mind starts to fear the winter season ahead, my God reminds me that He NEVER sleeps; like the plants do in wintertime; like my heart does when it retreats from fear and pain; like my body does in weariness and stress.  My God will never sleep nor slumber.  And that fact alone allows me to rest in the season I’m in and trust God completely.