Archives for August 2016

Our crew made a last-minute escape from the scorching summer sun last week after Dave’s aunt and uncle graciously lent our family their adorable (seriously too cute for words) little cabin in the woods. We happily piled into the van and made the ten hour trek deep into the mountains of Colorado.

I cannot even tell you how much we needed to get away together. I know I’ve said it before, but raising a kiddo with immense trauma and hurt in her past is H.A.R.D. I had so hoped this summer would be one of healing and rest and this little getaway was like a perfectly packaged gift from a loving Father at exactly the right moment. She and I needed to step away from our current reality to laugh and have fun together. Actually, all of my littles needed this. They needed Dave and I present and focused on nothing more than memory-making for a few days. The cabin didn’t have electricity, much less internet or cell phone service. There weren’t distractions or noise from this wild world (doesn’t the noise feel intensely louder these days??) to pull us away from the absolute most important thing: time together.

Our days were fairly consistent, keeping to a routine of rising early to fish (for the boys) while the girls read and worked on puzzles inside. Then, a mid-morning hike and lunch followed by more fishing and swimming and paddling around in the canoe. Next up, dinner and an evening hike. We always rounded the day off with another puzzle or board game and a read-aloud chapter of The BFG (we are trying to finish the book so we can all go see the movie together).

The whole outside world felt really far away. Political campaigns and conventions and facebook debates fell entirely off of our radar. I felt humbled and small as I walked beneath towering pine trees and took in breath-taking sunsets. My boys were beside themselves excitedly panning for flakes of gold at the water’s edge. Dave released seemingly ever-present tension as he turned off his phone and left the demands of work behind.

The littles were outside from early in the morning until the very last rays of sun tucked themselves beneath the mountains. They invented games involving wild bears and homemade bows and arrows. They “cooked” on the deck with wild rosemary and dandelions. They cheered one another on as they worked to catch a big fish and would collectively shout for joy as each fish was reeled in to shore.

My oldest friend and her family drove over from Denver to visit. Our friendship spanning three decades, we watched our little ones play sweetly together and marveled over the fact that we were actually the grown-ups in this scenario. We laughed at the ways we have each turned into our own mothers {even though we swore as teenagers to never let that happen}. Old memories and new ones collided as the days unfolded. We wished for more unstructured days like this for our kids. Carefree days full of active imaginations and fresh outdoor air.

These few days away reminded me how we were all created with a deep, unrelenting desire to seek stillness. Often, time tucked away from the clanging cymbals of this world result in an intimate encounter with our Creator. He gently reminds us of his love through the beauty of creation. When we are still before him, we are able to lean into the quiet whispers of truth. No matter how unsteady this world feels, He is sovereign and steadfast.

I want to teach my children to seek adventure and abundant life. I want them to know that this Jesus we serve is wholly good and full of gracious love. I want them to remember weekends like this one and know that joy and laughter are signs of life and light and are desperately needed in this aching world. I want them to pour forth love in every encounter with others and to seek beauty at every turn.

And, I want them to know that an escape to the mountains on a whim with four small kiddos is far from easy. Yet, the memories we made together are absolutely worth every ounce of effort.