twowithoneheart

I could start this post out with – wow its been a while since I wrote anything. But honestly why would I? Its kinda obvious, right? So I won’t.

Since moving to Washington – life has been a fast paced jumble of finding jobs and somewhere to life, adapting to a different culture in community and church and eventually starting my own business. A business I never imagined myself in by the way, but now feel so passionate almost three years later. All of this bought with it an intensive season of learning to adapt.

Bring on the turtles!

Kirkland, WA has a myriad of parks, where animals and their humans go, families get together for play dates, and quieter parks where people can walk without talking in the wonder and beauty of creation. On occasion, these free roaming creatures we observe in the quieter parks talk to you in ways you least expect – cue Dr. Dolittle!

That’s how it was with the turtles. From the observation deck, I could see them, sitting there on a log, sunning themselves, oblivious to this amateur photographer trying to get her best shot. Some on other logs, were respectably distanced from each other, others not caring how they ended up, just pile on! Then it happened – middle picture above.

Everyone was happy, until that guy at the bottom decided he wanted to take a dip. As he slowly turned to get off the log, it set off a rock and roll motion. As he slide off sideways, the motion of the log increased. As he hit the water it increased even more. He started to turn back to the log, saw what he had done and disappeared under the water, out of sight.

Meanwhile, the next guy up, had shot his legs out at angles, anchored himself and hung on, the three in the middle just rolled with the flow. The next one I think woke up when he flipped and landed in the water. And that smallest one at the top end. Seriously, he should have gotten some kind of award! He had it down, roll to the left, slide to the right, lift your head. But promptly lost it as he tilted to far and catapulted off the end.

The four of us humans, strangers bought together in a wordless interaction, all laughed with delight, at this 16 second interruption to the surrounding quiet.

As I turned to walk away, it struck me that I had just witnessed a word picture of how I often act in the rhythms that make up my life. Sometimes I quietly slide out of situations not wanting to rock the boat, but doing so with my absence. Other times I hang on for dear life when a rough waters try to unseat me or immediately lose my grip and wake up when I hit the water. Still other times I just find a good stance and manage to come out unscathed.

I want to be like the three turtles in the middle. Finding enough balance that allows me to roll with the ebb and flow, the high and lows. Knowing that when things happens, I am secure in the place I have chosen to plant my feet. That I am anchored in this solid, albeit rocky place. Anchored in the place of an everlasting hope that propels me through life toward a destination that will bring me to the place of perfect balance. How about you?

“Yes, my soul, finds rest in God; my hope comes from Him. Truly He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will not be shaken.” (Psalm 62:5-6)

Did you know that a charade was a form of literary riddle popularized in France in the 18th century. In the early 19th century, the French began performing “acting” or “acted charades”with the written description replaced by dramatic performances as a parlor game—and this was brought over to Britain by the English aristocracy. (www.wikipedia.com)

Or in my mind it’s that game that causes obvious frustration as highly exaggerated body gestures attempt to convey to onlookers words that cannot be spoken!  Recently a word come up on a page that gave me a moment’s pause …. it has three syllables and sounds like ….. jour.ney.man.

The dictionary defined it as a person who has served an apprenticeship at a trade or handicraft and is certified to work at it assisting or under another person; any experienced, competent but routine worker or performer; a person hired to do work for another, usually for a day at a time.

In this new year and new season of my life, no matter what I am “apprenticed” or “routinely” asked to do,  I am going to be the best journey (wo)man I can be!  What is that going to look like, how am I going to act that out?

As this year defines itself through yet to be known scenarios, circumstances and the vague interpretations of what I hope will be, I will trust in the plans my mentor has for me. Plans for my good that will build strength of character, integrity, endurance and perseverance.

My daily worth or pay will be found in the summation of who I have become at the end of that day. As belief in what I have been entrusted to do unfolds in my life, my character and personality will become as it was visualized when I was first chosen to be a part of this corporate body.

To truly do this, I can’t approach this as a charade, a dramatic performance for the benefit of those who look on!

This has to come out of the genuine overflow of a heart committed to the best interest of my mentor. Being single minded in every avenue I go down, never being satisfied with half measures or the progress already achieved. Ever pressing forward to complete the work assigned.

Would my mentor expect any less of me? His journey(wo)man. “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.” (1Corinthians 11:1)

Saturday night. I lay down, reading until sleep starts to overtake me.  As I go to put the book aside, a group of words capture my attention. Speaking to me.

Sunday morning. I see the sun come up over the mountain and watch as it’s light breathes on what the darkness had covered. And in a different book with a different author, there it is again, the same words.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us….” Hebrews 12:1

We go to Zootown Church – yes, that’s really its name, look it up – on the way I say to my man “You know I read that verse about throwing off the stuff that so easily entangles and persevering in running your race both last night and this morning.”Uh huh” his response, as he sips his coffee and follows the directions of the GPS. I go on, saying “Wouldn’t it be something if that was mentioned again at church?” His response was a ditto on the last response! 🙂

Our first time in a gathering place with His people since leaving that coastal town that now seems so far away.  After being greeted at the door by the smiling faces of the generation rising up – a voice says “Hey, I know you! *smile* Your Casey’s mom and dad, how are you? *Hug* We are so glad you came! Lets get a picture.” Welcomed and Embraced.

The worship songs pour down over my head, like the rain that fell on our way to this place. Refreshing happens and I feel His welcome as I enter that special place of His presence.  Then comes the message. A series from the Old Testament. This one – Moses and the Ten Plagues.

Words echo and bounce off the hearts of men and women as plagues are likened to the sins that so easily entangle our lives. What more is left to be said?  Throw aside your sin, run and receive the bounty of grace and mercy that is offered.

On the way back to the family house, a rainbow is seen, appearing to rise up from the valley floor, where clouds have misted it, trying to shadow what the rain and light have brought. That ancient sign of covenant promise…”and God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between Me and all flesh that is on the earth.” (Gensis 9:17)

 Sunday evening. Hearts are quieted as thoughts turn to what it lies ahead. Goodbyes are said, with the knowing that the miles between visits will be so much shorter. I sit on the side of the bed, book in hand, and begin to read.  And in the quietness, a heart tunes in.

“If anyone is a worshiper of God and does His will. He hears him.” (John 9:31) “My will is not a place, but a condition. Do not ask Me where and when but ask me how..”

Whispering I respond with “I don’t know how You are going to do all that we are asking, but I know this, I trust You.”

The words continue … “You will discover blessings in every place, and any place, if your spirit is in tune with Me.” “…. you have put your life into My keeping, and because you are depending on Me for guidance and direction, I shall give it. Move on steadily and know that the waters that carry you are the waters of My love and My kindness, and I will keep you on the right course.” (Excerpts taken from “Come Away My Beloved” by Frances J Roberts.) My eyes fill up, profound gratitude fills my thoughts. I share it all with my man and in the quietness he hears what is being spoken.

Monday.  It’s almost one a.m. and I really need to sleep. We are leaving at 8 a.m! Ha. Where is that card I was using as a book mark?  Ahhh, there it is … and with it one more whisper.

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1)

Missoula, Montana. This place of rest, before the final leg of this journey. How loudly I have heard His voice in this place. And now we move on.  Over the mountains and on into Washington State to what He has readied for us.

On this journey …we have left behind the waters of the Gulf Coast, seen the lakes of Northern Michigan, beheld the evergreen and colorful beauty of well-watered Wisconsin, passed through Minnesota, the land of 1000 lakes, with its cranberry farms. And this night we arrived in South Dakota …. miles and miles of barren rolling hills and gully’s in between, acres and acres of corn and sunflowers …. and how do they grow? No apparent lakes or irrigation systems that can be seen as we fly by on Highway 90 … side note: the highway speed limit is 80mph and everyone sticks to it!  Yet these crops grow and thrive .. what’s the rainfall quota for SD?  Who knows.

But you know what I have noticed though, in each state the water is different. Yes, there is a difference in the water you can taste and feel.

Before I go there, let me back up a few days….to Michigan. After six days with my man’s mom, the day came to leave. Then a call … we forgot a few items in the fridge, she says, wanting to make sure we would eat on our travels, so we go back. A few more hugs, a tentative see you later, teary eyed smiles and love you’s all over again. Leaving the familiar once more …and this verse on my day planner …

“The whole point of what we’re urging is simply love – love uncontaminated by self-interest and counterfeit faith, a life open to God” (1 Timothy 1:5 – Message paraphrase Bible).

Simply love, as you leave what you know. Simply love, before you go, uncontaminated by self interest, like a rain soaked landscape, it will  create all kinds of beauty as the seasons change.

86 years of living and she’s tired of letting go, but she does. Because she loves, uncontaminated….and so our journey continues.

New sights to see, places to visit, laugh about [The Corn Palace?!], and talks about the unknown of the days to come.

Another waitress, opens up and shares her dreams with us, kindness and encouragement is offered and is taken in like water to thirsty soul. She finishes her shift and comes back to talk. She’s on the right track. She’ll go far … and with only 18 years of living at that! “For He has satisfied the thirsty soul…” (Psalm 107:9)

What is it about water, though?

Apart from the fact, as we have traveled from state to state around this nation, my hair has felt its effect! From being unable to hold hairspray from the time I spray it to when I walk out the bathroom door. To needing one short spray and staying styled for days. I totally get why women in Texas have big hair!

So much grows from water, in it, and around it, it can be still or in constant motion.  It’s just like that love uncontaminated, its living and giving, its touch can be seen and felt, its tested and tried and always comes out the same, in its purest form.

It’s a source of life that we all need. All of us.

Lets get on the road by 7am they said. We stopped 5 minutes after pulling out of the driveway, to clear the leaking eyes, all started by my man,  yes, he man-cried …gah!             It was a slow start.  Then came the wrap around the building line.  Great place for learning patience, states my man, he just wants coffee! We finally really get on the road, heading north at 9am.

It was good and it was hard – like a bungee jump, positioned at the top, straining and waiting for the release. All those last times by here, over there. Oh and the remember when’s, accompanied by smiles and sighs. As the miles click by, the places familiar disappear from view, all behind us now. They’re still there, still breathing, just minus us two.

And its okay.

Finishing well is ingrained in all things, a passed on trait. Clear the air, hug one more time, speak love, offer up kind words, bring laughter. Work hard. Let the tears fall, but finish the course.  Give of yourself, even when there is nothing left to give. It will come back, like bread across the waters (Ecclesiastes 11:1). Know when to finish a chapter, don’t try to force another, just gently close the book.

The highway gets wider, the scenery changes and with it comes the chatter about this and that, laughter over silly things. Then there’s the embracing, that companionable silence that comes with knowing the one you are traveling life’s road with (Eccelsiastes 4:9).  In a 5′ x 3′ space extremes of life come fast, from words read and talked about from ‘If’ by Mark Batterson to road signs that bring impromptu Elvis impersonations!

Positioned to face forward, rarely reaching back, except for a bottle of water or apples. The road ahead offers up traffic, detours and closed roads. All negotiable, keeping us on track, being directed due north on an external map, while following the guidance of an internal beat.

Festus – a place to rest for the night. Its meaning: joyous, festive. The young waitress, bringing that Brioche French toast with Bluberry Compote. Serving it up with a smile, compliments and a quick wit as my man challenges her for her lack of compliments toward him – the tip giver. He says she’s just like that for the tip, then a quick look around the room shows that not everyone there is joyous. Its one of those finishing well things … end the day with laughter, a quick smile and bring joy to someone else’s world. My man gives her a compliment about her sense of humor as she brings the check. Her smile lights up our table (Galatians 6:9). A moment shared, at an intersection on a road of many miles traveled.

Oh and that French toast, best meal all day … except for that wrap around the building line coffee.

Who would have ever thought that the ebb and flow of life could so easily determine ones routine. It wasn’t until I got the “pay for your blog” message that I realized how much I missed sharing my happenings with you, the unseen audience.

So here we are,  the POD has landed in our driveway, its opening begging to fit all we own into its 8′ x 16′ cavity. We’ve done the yard sale thing, the pre-yard sale thing and given stuff away to prepare for whatever lies at the other end…. in Seattle, Washington.  Wow! Did I really just write that? My man and I are moving – he says we’re going on a long term camping trip. And I don’t mind the sound of that – it says, this is what adventure, faith and long prayed over dreams are made of.

Seattle – that place that I dropped our youngest girl child off all those years ago. That place, that stole a part of me, with one glance at her green mountain grandeur, blue skies and waters … and yes, that misty rain. It was summer time then and I know…. I’ve heard it enough times since, that it rains a lot in Seattle! [It really doesn’t, its rained more in Mississippi here lately!] and let’s not mention Mobile, Alabama and its yearly rainfall amounts!

For five years we have prayed off and on about this move, ever since I came back from that trip and blurted out the words “I could move out there!” My man had lived in Seattle right after high school, it was where his story began. We didn’t know anyone living there now, except for our daughter, and that was enough.

Thus began the game of hide-and-go-seek-tug-of-war between the One directing steps and the one trying to follow! “Here I am look at me” “Nope, I’m going this way” *yank on the rope* “Nope, your going this way” “Where are you?” *tug* “Over here.” “The Lord makes firm the steps of the one who delights in Him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with His hand.” (Psalm 37:23-24)

Then we hit that season two years ago, when things began to change. Was this an open door?  It felt more like an open sea as the winds of change began to assail all that was familiar. Waves slapped hard at the familiarity of the boat we were doing life in.  Then it happened, the wind and waves became still and we knew. And we remembered that time we took a left instead of a right out of the panhandle of Texas and ended up in the wheat fields of Oklahoma. Miles and miles and miles of nothing but amber, golden grain, and those words in my head “the fields are ripe for the harvest, but the workers are few.” (John 4:35). My sensibility arguing back “well of course that’s what I’m going to think, while staring out the window at nothing but wheat fields!” Look a building in the distance, at a crossroads, stop, ask for directions. An abandoned building, its inhabitants long gone. Keep driving.  A few more miles and a few buildings, a man putting up letters on a marque outside of a church …. he steps out of the way, right as we drive by. His job done, ours just beginning. The letters wove together the words “Welcome Harvesters”  and in that moment when breathe is taken away and tears form, the way is made known.

Saturday, October 1st is get on the road day and head north to Michigan to visit with my man’s mom, then its onto Montana, for visits with his brother and an old high school friend and those wide open spaces, big blue sky, mountains ….moose and bears! Then finally into Washington state late October. So much to share, but for right now its enough to know that indeed our steps are being directed and after 27 years of Gulf Coast living, we are moving to the Pacific North West coast…..Sunday is party day, where our church family who have loved us well all those years, will bid us farewell. Leaving and letting go is never easy.