Sometimes it’s baby steps, once in a while a joyous leap; but most of the time I’m just falling forward.
The snorkel mask was fogging up from my barely contained hysteria and hyperventilation as we swam around the corner to the cove that serves as the fabled home to a tiger shark. Local talk says she’s lived near our favorite snorkel spot for many years. Earlier this month Scott met her accidentally; well, he sighted her and then booked it back to the beach before a formal meeting could occur.
Continue reading “Sharks and Internet Dating”Now that all the little the details of settling in a new home are in place: beach chairs, kombucha scoby, house plants, shower curtain, ect, and the flurry of company has come to a quiet close, I am feeling a good dose of homesickness. My sadness is mixed with an entertaining sense of irony that I am pining for the South Carolina country side while watching gorgeous sapphire waves of the Pacific crash on a quiet beach in Hawaii. The heart wants what the heart wants. My heart wants to go home. My heart is also once again confused about where home is.
Seven years ago, motivated by a consuming desire to experience and give “more” (not knowing what exactly that meant), we left a beautiful home and settled careers and bravely leapt into the unknown. We had carefully considered the cost and were willing to sacrifice what was necessary in order to seek a “country of our own” (Hebrews 11:8-16) We were somewhat aware of the financial and relationship costs- loss of income, retirement and health insurance, thousands of miles away from our older children, family and lifelong friends-but there were many other costs that caught us by surprise. We lost the ability to live “normal lives” as our eyes were opened to God’s kingdom on earth and His desire to have us join Him. We lost comfort, security, selfishness and even some treasured friends as our experience of God grew and changed our understanding (see note below.). We lost “home” in every sense of the word. But then we gained So. Much. More. We have been gifted with peace and connection and understanding and strength- and at the end of this season I realize that I am home. I AM home. I am HOME. Anywhere and everywhere. And God is always with me and will never forsake me AND there are always people around me to love and be loved by and His beauty faithfully surrounds me. I still can’t say why we felt the push to leave home and go on this journey, but I’m so grateful we did.
If you’ve spent much time with me, chances are you’ve joined me on a hike. You might even be one of the lucky ones who trekked to see a water fall and ended up sharing a dramatic helicopter rescue, saved a frostbitten dog in a wolf trap, hiked to the top of a Hawaiian volcano and gazed at a neighboring volcano covered in snow, rescued a heat stroke victim, frantically dodged wild cows, discovered the mother lode of blueberry patches or enjoyed one of the hundreds of amazing experiences I’ve had while hiking. I’m a nature fanatic and can’t think of many things I enjoy more than trekking out in the middle of it!
Last week I cleaned out as much garden space as possible for our fall planting. Along with several sweaty hours of weeding (and a few days of lower back pain lol), this involved pulling up the rest the carrots and beets we have been slowly harvesting over the summer. The powerful smell of sweet, fresh carrots immediately dictated my dinner plans and as soon as the dirt and sweat from a rewarding day in the garden was showered off, I had carrot soup simmering on the stove. It was so good, we repeated the menu today- but added fresh garlic naan on the side. What a winner! This is a simple soup (my favorite kind) and the variations are plentiful. Makes about 10 cups.
I’d just packed my car and waved goodbye as I left for Seattle when one block away I realized I’d forgotten something. Walking back into my bedroom, I found my mother furiously tearing off the wallpaper. I’d been gone three whole minutes. Unsure how to feel about my Mom’s zeal to redecorate and reclaim my space, I figured it was her way to deal with the shocking change of her first child growing up and moving out. Over the years we’ve laughed about that scene, but this week I relived it, only this time I was the mom. It sucks to be the mom.
Growing up in Alaska, we were taught to keep our car doors locked in the summer, and it had nothing to do with thieves or kidnappers. This special evasion training began early in childhood and was all about avoiding a neighbor’s dreaded gift of giant zucchini (if your doors were unlocked they could pile up the back seat with squash the size of toddlers and you’d be forced to drive home and deal with it.) So you can imagine my surprise and shame in South Carolina when I couldn’t manage to keep a simple zucchini plant alive (nasty squash bugs!)
After experiencing two spring floods that wiped out our newly planted gardens- twice, massive raids of new garden pests that refuse to respond to natural measures, fire blight that forced the destruction of all our beautiful apple trees, the mystery deaths of six out of nine turkey poults, a stubborn fungus invasion due to intense humidity and lastly, a hail storm that shredded the majority of our remaining garden, I didn’t expect to be humming “The Comeback” song by Danny Gokey as I walk through a mysteriously reviving garden! But here we are with a counter full of produce that I am begging coworkers to take home. I continued to hum that song today as I baked double batches of lemon/walnut zucchini bread, chocolate zucchini cake and chocolate chip zucchini bread and planned out next week’s menu inspired by this morning’s harvest- stuffed zucchini, cucumber salad, swiss chard quiche, stuffed peppers- it’s surreal to finally have produce after three years of frustration, sweat and disappointment. Here comes the come back!!