I am sitting on a deck overlooking the ocean at sunset. Some of our people are before my eyes, soaking in the evening peace. Some of our people are resting inside, enjoying some solace. We are on vacation with friends who have become family. Kindred spirits in solidarity.
As I enjoy all that is happening in these moments, it doesn't escape my mind that this is the third vacation I've enjoyed this summer. Three different beaches on two different oceans. Three times removed from my not so ordinary life.
June 29th. I boarded a plane to California with my dad and my ten year old daughter. She had been given the opportunity to compete in gymnastics nationals. My husband stayed behind with our other five children. People kept asking if I was worried about leaving him home to take care of the kids by himself. I kept saying that I was worried about leaving him behind- being without him there to take care of ME. I knew that he and the kids would be fine, I knew that I would not be.
My anxiety was through the roof, even though there was nothing about the trip NOT to enjoy. The Pacific Ocean, visiting family, watching my daughter compete with hundreds of gymnasts, spending time with her and my dad. I had none of the responsibilities that were waiting back home.
And THAT rocked my world. And that rock fell directly on my chest. Everything that I had left 1000 miles behind hit me all at once, and it was heavy.
As I enjoy all that is happening in these moments, it doesn't escape my mind that this is the third vacation I've enjoyed this summer. Three different beaches on two different oceans. Three times removed from my not so ordinary life.
June 29th. I boarded a plane to California with my dad and my ten year old daughter. She had been given the opportunity to compete in gymnastics nationals. My husband stayed behind with our other five children. People kept asking if I was worried about leaving him home to take care of the kids by himself. I kept saying that I was worried about leaving him behind- being without him there to take care of ME. I knew that he and the kids would be fine, I knew that I would not be.
My anxiety was through the roof, even though there was nothing about the trip NOT to enjoy. The Pacific Ocean, visiting family, watching my daughter compete with hundreds of gymnasts, spending time with her and my dad. I had none of the responsibilities that were waiting back home.
And THAT rocked my world. And that rock fell directly on my chest. Everything that I had left 1000 miles behind hit me all at once, and it was heavy.
I had been cruising along pretty well, dodging the obstacles that life threw at me during this past year. Life had become heavy, but adrenaline had kept me going-until California made me stop.
I could handle all things, one day at a time. Until I looked back-back 365 days, and I saw it all at once.
A boy that had lived in my home was murdered. MURDERED.
I said goodbye to a 15 year career
I started grad school to pursue my masters degree
I said goodbye to a sweet little girl that had shared our home and heart for 2 years of her life
Another young girl that had shared our home took her own life
I admitted that I needed help with my mental health
We finalized the adoption of our youngest son
Our daughter was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease
And then her sister was diagnosed also
We had 14 hospitalizations-2 hours from home
Our youngest facing potential serious medical diagnoses of his own
Our oldest three babies, growing up before our eyes
We finalized the adoption of our youngest son
Our daughter was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease
And then her sister was diagnosed also
We had 14 hospitalizations-2 hours from home
Our youngest facing potential serious medical diagnoses of his own
Our oldest three babies, growing up before our eyes
Relationships strained
A strong marriage pressed
The climate of our culture
Fear, hate, violence
How did all of this happen, in one year, and how was I still breathing?
I returned home, completely raw and undone.
Vacation had ripped open every wound that I had been silently suffering from.
A strong marriage pressed
The climate of our culture
Fear, hate, violence
How did all of this happen, in one year, and how was I still breathing?
I returned home, completely raw and undone.
Vacation had ripped open every wound that I had been silently suffering from.
It left me in a pretty dark place. Brent and I struggled to stay afloat. Not that anything new was happening, except that we were suddenly feeling it. Our eighteenth wedding anniversary was approaching, and we were desperate. With Every. Last. penny we had, we booked a trip to Florida. It was an emergency-we had to pull ourselves together. I sold furniture out of my house to make this trip happen.
August 3rd. We boarded the plane feeling heavy. I wasn't sure we'd get off the ground. The cruise control of our lives had stalled a few hundred miles back.
We made it to Florida. We rested and enjoyed the time away, processing the past year of our lives, and we vowed to return renewed, and refreshed.
Returning home was hard. Everything was waiting. All of the responsibility, but also all of the love. We could see that the hard work of our lives was worth it. Always worth it. A little perspective, and a lot of sunshine had made that clear.
And then August 20th. We climbed into the car. All eight of us, embarking on a long-ago planned trip to the beach. Twelve hours and six kids. Meeting up with our friends who have become family. Kindred spirits in solidarity.
I sat on the beach for seven entire days. I prayed while soaking up the sun, for seven entire days. I watched twelve children and four adults-including myself-heal before my eyes. A significant part of the healing for my children was playing in the waves. I watched, time after time, as they ventured out into the ocean, and gradually drifted down the shore. Time after time, after they had drifted too far, too many times, I pulled them out of the water and said these words:
You HAVE to keep your eyes on the shore. You HAVE to keep your eyes on me. Dear children of my heart, once you are out in the ocean, it has power over you, and you HAVE to pay attention. You HAVE to keep looking back. So that you aren't pulled away. The ocean will pull you away, it will pull you under, it will drown you, if you aren't careful.
You HAVE to keep your eyes on the shore. You HAVE to keep your eyes on me.
August 3rd. We boarded the plane feeling heavy. I wasn't sure we'd get off the ground. The cruise control of our lives had stalled a few hundred miles back.
We made it to Florida. We rested and enjoyed the time away, processing the past year of our lives, and we vowed to return renewed, and refreshed.
Returning home was hard. Everything was waiting. All of the responsibility, but also all of the love. We could see that the hard work of our lives was worth it. Always worth it. A little perspective, and a lot of sunshine had made that clear.
And then August 20th. We climbed into the car. All eight of us, embarking on a long-ago planned trip to the beach. Twelve hours and six kids. Meeting up with our friends who have become family. Kindred spirits in solidarity.
I sat on the beach for seven entire days. I prayed while soaking up the sun, for seven entire days. I watched twelve children and four adults-including myself-heal before my eyes. A significant part of the healing for my children was playing in the waves. I watched, time after time, as they ventured out into the ocean, and gradually drifted down the shore. Time after time, after they had drifted too far, too many times, I pulled them out of the water and said these words:
You HAVE to keep your eyes on the shore. You HAVE to keep your eyes on me. Dear children of my heart, once you are out in the ocean, it has power over you, and you HAVE to pay attention. You HAVE to keep looking back. So that you aren't pulled away. The ocean will pull you away, it will pull you under, it will drown you, if you aren't careful.
You HAVE to keep your eyes on the shore. You HAVE to keep your eyes on me.
In those words, in those moments, after three encounters with ocean vacations, I was finally renewed.
I HAVE to keep my eyes on the shore. I HAVE to keep my eyes on You.
It is so easy to get caught up in the waves. It is so easy to drift down the shore. It is so easy to drown.
But it is so easy to keep swimming also.
It is so easy to enjoy your friends and your family. It is so easy to ride your waves of turmoil, and to stay afloat in life's ocean. IF you keep your eyes on the shore.
My head is above water. My eyes are on the shore. I'll keep swimming, even though I'm not sure where I'm going this time.
