Not So Happy Campers (Part 2)

For part 1, please see yesterday's post.

Allen reluctantly pulled out of the park and turned the car toward Georgetown, where we planned to break the drive at his uncle and aunt’s house.  We knew they would have supper for us, but all that walking and shivering had worked up an appetite, so we stopped earlier at a small-town pizza place to refuel.  It wasn’t quite 5 pm, so the buffet was empty and the staff light, but we were too tired to care.  After all, Sunday evenings during football season in rural Texas are probably not prime hours for dining out.

We hit the road again after a welcome hot meal and arrived at Uncle Alvin’s before dark.  No one was home, but we knew where to find the key and let ourselves in.  A note lay on the kitchen table saying he and Aunt Joanna had gone to a program at church and would see us before eight o’clock.  That freed us to attend to the next order of business, hot showers.

Clean and pajama-clad, we fixed hot tea and settled in to watch television and try to stay awake until they returned.  We waited, channel-surfed, checked the time, and waited some more.  When they still weren’t home at 8:30, we composed our own apologetic note for the table and went to bed.

The next morning we arose at oh-dark a.m. to pack the car and complete the remaining 200 miles of our journey in time to get Allen to work by 9 a.m.. Yet another gracious note on the kitchen table said our hosts were so sorry they missed us the night before but understood how tired we must have been.  They would make coffee for us and see us off.

The house was still dark and quiet, so we found the coffee and made it ourselves.  Then we loaded the car.  Then we drank the coffee.  Still there were no signs that Uncle Alvin and Aunt Joanna were awake.

We were quickly losing whatever margin we had on the travel timetable.  Allen decided we really, really needed to leave.  I scrawled another guilty note and we departed.

At least we would have the consolation of McDonald’s breakfast on the way out of town, or so we thought.  The signs weren’t lit yet, but the interior was.  If memory serves, we approached the drive-through anyway and called out, “Hello! Are you there?” until it became clear that no one was.  Or perhaps they were laughing at us too hard to reply.

That’s odd.  Even the fast-food employees were running late today?  You know it’s Monday when. . .  At least there was a 24-hour Whataburger nearby.  We obtained breakfast and more coffee there and transitioned to the highway.

I don’t remember whether we listened to music or talked or just silently processed the weekend, but somewhere around Waco my lights finally came on.  When I smacked my palm, hard, against my forehead, Allen said, “What? Did you forget something? It’s ok; they’ll mail it to us later.”

“Um, yes, honey, we forgot something.”

“This must have been the weekend to change the clocks back.”

Not So Happy Campers (Part 1)

For the first year and a half of our marriage, we lived at a frantic pace.  In part, the demands of building a mission support team and preparing to move halfway around the world dictated the rush and busyness.  The rest of it we brought on ourselves with our lists of Things We Must Do Before We Leave America Forever.  (If you know our story, you can hear God laughing about that plan.)

Camping at Lost Maples State Park in the hill country of central Texas found a place on Allen’s list.  “The fall color is amazing,” he said.  “It’s so quiet and peaceful there,” he said.  “This will be a beautiful, romantic vacation weekend together,” I heard.  Accordingly, we booked our campsite for the end of October and begged or borrowed the most basic camping equipment for the trip.

Well, the trees did put on a prettier show than what we had back in Denton.

As to the rest, this trip proved one of those newlywed educational experiences.  The Thais call this “learning by doing,” their classic example being touching a pan on the stove to see if it’s hot.

By way of public service announcement, let’s review some of the lessons of the weekend.

1.   Traveling as a married couple works better if her pink hearing aids are tuned to the same frequency as his blue megaphone.  Case in point:  It never, ever occurred to A. to inform me that “primitive camping” means, “there is absolutely no way for you to brush your teeth or wash your face this weekend.  Even though we packed water, toothbrush, and toothpaste, there’s no environmentally appropriate way to dispose of the rinse water.”  Unless one swallows the toothpaste.  Which I might have done.

Meanwhile, it never, ever, ever entered my mind that otherwise sane adults would not only voluntarily undertake such horrific living conditions but actually pay for the privilege to ask him if there would be some sort of community bathhouse within an hour’s hike. 

2.       From approximately September to May, the wise person prepares for the unexpected when planning outdoor activities in Texas.  There is no excuse for our failure in this department.  We both have lived here long enough to know that camping in autumn means planning for a 50F temperature span on any given day, not to mention rain, hail, and possible tornadoes.

People like us, on the other hand, plan optimistically for a low temperature around 60F.  Instead, the overnight lows were near 40F.

3.       Contrary to popular belief, the wilderness is noisy at night.  Granted, the noises are not man-made, but this city girl finds the grumble of cars in the apartment parking lot and the hum of central heat much more soothing than the sounds coyotes, wildcats, insects the size of helicopters, and possibly wild boar and dragons.

4.       Country dark is darker than city dark.  The Mini Maglite from my purse is not adequate for this.

5.       Country dark + city eyes + mediocre sense of direction + multiple trips to the outhouse for every 12 hours of darkness = remarkably intensified prayer life

When Sunday (and the moderate weather we had expected) finally arrived, we took one more hike through the beautiful trees, ate the last peanut butter sandwiches, baby carrots, and protein bars, packed up the gear and empty water jugs, and trudged wearily out of the park to our car.

Allen may have been disappointed it was over; I was relieved to cross it off the list and wondering if Marks-A-Lot would be too subtle.

To be continued in tomorrow’s post… Oh, yes, there’s more!

A Little Nonsense

 

Topsy-turvy,

Upsy-daisy,

Helter-skelter,

Mazy-crazy.

Lofty humbled,

Humble rich,

Off your pedestal,

Time to switch!

Mourners dancing,

Dancers sad;

Mountains flattened,

Deserts glad.

First to last

And last to first;

Hungry filled,

About to burst!

Princes serving,

Beggars sup;

Top to bottom,

Bottoms up!

Topsy-turvy,

Upsy-daisy,

Helter-skelter,

Think I’m crazy?

Wondering

This morning I read Psalm 126 and wondered at the wild grace of God that restores His people's miserable captivity and sowing of seeds in tears, replacing them not with denial, not with mere healing, but with abundant harvest and shouts of joy.  I think of the friends sowing in tears today and the shouts of joy of the World Series champions on the screen last night, and I wonder.

Then I read in Ezekiel about God's coming judgment on Israel's neighbors.  These powerful countries on top of the world who abused God's people would surely be trodden underfoot.  The wealthy metropolis of Tyre would become a rock scraped bare by the sea.  I see the consequences of our actions and our pride, and I wonder.

My mind, sluggish and distracted today, loops round and round the phrases of Jeremiah 9:23-24, trying to learn them one word at a time:  no boasting in wisdom, nor in might, nor in riches, but only in knowing God and how He acts on earth.  The only ground of true boasting is not an acquisition or an accomplishment, but a gift?  I wonder.

Ann Voskamp writes about blogging in the Upside Down Kingdom, and I wonder if I am, or if I am just doing this for comments and page views, to convince myself of my own importance.

All these witnesses agree that God's kingdom and our earthly kingdom are oriented in different directions, and one of them is upside down.  I realize this, and I wonder: do I experience that culture shock when I open my Bible, or have I homogenized it with my daily life, though they ought to be as separate as milk and the cream floating on top?  When I close the Book and open the computer, do I even recognize the smell of mothballs and the feel of coats on my skin as I trade Narnia for the wardrobe in the spare room?

And if the radical upside-down nature of life doesn't shock me that way, why on earth not?  I wonder.

Gratitude 11: Waiting

This month I realized I had been waiting a long while for delivery of a particular online order.  Checking the tracking information, I discovered the package had been marked "out for delivery" eight days prior.  Traffic here can be bad, but 20 miles in eight days?  That would be traffic congestion worthy of the evening news.

The to-do list suddenly expands:
Writing e-mail to customer service...
Waiting for their response... 
Responding to their response...
Waiting for receipt of the new and diminished reshipment of the order, because one item has become unavailable since the original shipment...

In the end, my hopes for this shopping experience were only partially satisfied and partially disappointed.

We have done a lot of waiting these last few months, waiting for medical appointments, lab results, medication results, feeling better, answers, guidance... The same pattern occurs consistently:  some desires are satisfied, and some are disappointed.  You have no doubt experienced the same in your waiting for job interviews, doctors' calls, a spouse, a baby, a home, and all the other things "out there" we need or want.

Today in my memory review and reading in Isaiah the recurring theme was to wait for LORD.  Not wait for LORD to _____ [do what I want, meet my needs, fix this problem], but simply for Him.  While I don't pretend to understand all that means, it seems to communicate in part that, no matter the outcome of my lesser hopes and desires, He will show Himself.  He will be "a God merciful, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression, and sin," and all the other unchanging qualities He ascribes to Himself in the Bible (Exodus 34:6-7).

Waiting for Him will not disappoint me.  He will not disappoint me.  He may disappoint my immediate wishes, and His "good" may not probably won't look like my version of "good," but it will be all right.  Better, even, though that may be hard to accept in the short term.  The "I AM" will show Himself.

"I will wait for the LORD, who is hiding his face from the house of Jacob, and I will hope in him."

(Isaiah 8:17)

O LORD, be gracious to us; we wait for you.
   Be our arm every morning,
   our salvation in the time of trouble.

(Isaiah 33:2)

~hearing "Thy Word" on the radio and remembering in an instant the sign language we learned for church choir tour (more than 20 years ago) and the people who learned it with me
~Ebony getting jealous of my attention to the butterflies and charging across the yard to chase them off (with limited success)
~learning that a dozen butterflies taking flight at the same moment sound like dry leaves rustling
~beautiful morning skyscapes this last week

~"one of these things is not like the others" among the butterflies

~positive news from in-office tests Thursday
~no difficulties with IV or contrast dye for Friday's medical test
~opportunity for faith to grow in the waiting for the Lord in remaining results
~husband's grin, anticipating reactions at the office to his very scary "Tony Romo in a sling" costume
~access to good medical care and ability to pay for it
~a new Jan Karon book for delight and diversion
~the first fleece jacket and fuzzy socks weather of the season
~four generations of my family represented at my nephews' soccer game this weekend
~digital photography to see there when I can't be there
(Gratitude journal #1600-1613)