One night, while enduring said chorus from a church lobby, a young woman said to me, “What about all those people in there who feel like God has let them down?” I responded with something equivalent to, “Preach it, sister.”
Then, because it was, after all, a worship song, we had to suffer through about 5,763 more rounds of the chorus….which was long enough for me to compose most of this blog post in my head.
Note the size of the houses and the road in the distance to get an idea of the size of the rocks.
A cross country road trip, ours anyway, is a vacation in the car. As we like to say, this is our “land cruise.” A sampling of America. On Tuesday, it was already time to head to New Mexico. Driving through the painted desert and Navajo Nation in the northwest corner of Arizona was stunning. The giant, unpredictable rock formations reminded us of the badlands, but with green desert plants growing on the tops. Some of the rocks were giant “mesas” that took miles and miles to get around. Others jutted out of the earth in all sorts of shapes. One looked remarkably like the Emerald City, (see it on my FB profile page), another like a greek temple.
Earlier that morning I called Four Corners Monument and found out that they were closed Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for construction. The only three days we are going to be in New Mexico. I can not express my disappointment, not only for me, but for my girls who have looked forward to this for a long time. And why in the world are they closed for construction during the summer season, even the week of July 4th?! My beloved coworker’s voice echoes in my head ” Ours is not to question why. Ours is just to do or die.”
Well, we decided to drive there anyway. We couldn’t even get close to the monument, but just as we were leaving the office lady pulled up and Doug convinced her to let us in to see it for five short minutes. He is quite the negotiator.
The actual monument, where the four corners of Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona supposedly meet, was
Well, not quite what we had in mind. You can see a couple of the signs in this pic.
completely fenced off with a locked gate and several warning signs. I can not tell you how badly I tried to convince everyone that we could shimmy through the loosely fitted gate. (And we definitely could have fit!) Doug, and even the girls, kept insisting this was a bad idea. I can not imagine why.
So what stopped me? Nothing other than my conviction that I would be setting a bad example for my children. I must be getting old; some may call it maturity, but I’m not so sure. 20 years ago…maybe even 10 or 15 years ago, I would’ve been through that gate without a second thought. Oh well. Somewhere in the far, far, far, far, far…..far distance I hear a voice telling me I did the right thing. I think.
Closing up after we left – seriously, we had permission!
Tonight when Christina complained because we wouldn’t allow her to swim in a cold and unclean pool, I told her that sometimes we have to accept disappointment; sometimes we have to do what is best, safe and right, even when we don’t want to and sometimes we need other people to help us do the right thing…like not breaking into construction zones on private property. That got a big smile and no more arguments about the pool.
Today we drove down the California coast on US 1. Unfortunately, we were plagued once again by the fog. I wish I could tell you that I was like Ma Ingalls, ever cheerful, never complaining, looking for the good in everything. But I wasn’t. Nope. Not at all.
Most of you, unlike my poor family, have been spared the ugliness of my cranky side. Even if I don’t say a word, the intensity of my emotions can fill a room, let alone a four door sedan. Painful self-awareness of my crabbiness and the impact it has on those around me, along with feeling powerless to change anything, only makes me angrier. Doug tells me to trust God and I snip back that it has nothing to do with trust, but that I just don’t like what He (God) is doing at the time. Soooo mature.
As I stewed in the car, mile after mile, fuming at the fog that seemed to be almost mocking me (just a glimpse inside the head of Nichole), I contemplated my feelings. What was really bothering me? I realized that what I wanted most was to change the situation or at least to run away from it – anything to stop feeling so miserable. But here I was, stuck on this drive and I couldn’t change a thing. Sounds a teensy bit like a control issue to me!
This last year, God has been revealing to me that my response to any situation I don’t like is to fight or to flee. If I am afraid, hurt, uncomfortable, angry…any situation where I feel something I don’t like…I either fight to change it or I run away. There is no middle ground. Apparently acceptance is not one of my strengths. Who would’ve thunk it? I can hear a question from one of Andre’s sermons, “Are you trying to deliver yourself or are you trusting God and waiting on his deliverance?” I love how God never abandons us to ourselves. How He continually calls us to a higher place by challenging us to go deeper in our relationship with him.
As the evening wore on, we drove up into the California hills and I apologized to my family for my bad attitude. I am so grateful for their love and understanding.
You should know that we did see some breathtaking views along US 1 along with a beach full of enormous, active and loud elephant seals. Did you know a male elephant seal can weigh up to 5,000 lbs.! In the spirit of Ma Ingalls, let me say that I have seen the sunny, bright view from US 1 countless times in movies and ads, but today was the only time I have ever seen the coastline covered in fog. In many spots, we rode beneath the fog, which covered the hill tops just above us in a misty blanket. Yet we could still see the cliffs, rocks, sand, surf, birds, roads, people, everything, in between the fog and water. The experience brought back childhood (and parenting) memories of playing beneath a fort made from blankets and living room furniture.
On the way to our hotel we watched an orange sun set over the golden hills and Ma Ingalls’ words kept coming to mind. “All’s well that ends well.”
Lightning Bug 