Turning Toward Home
As we bring in the new year, we mark our halfway point and begin our slow trek toward home. We do so with mixed feelings. If you can imagine the late night discussions between a couple even considering such a leap of faith you'd be right to assume there were many doubts. Quit our jobs? Rent our home? Buy a huge RV? Pull our kids out of school? Attempt to educate them ourselves? Most days I think we assumed we'd never go through with it, but here we are.
I have watched their relationship deepen as siblings. I mean who has the choice when you only have each other?
I have watched them grow in confidence speaking openly to rangers, asking questions, and participating in ways they wouldn't have before this trip.
I have watched them sit completely still in nature for long stretches of time to just take it in. I have watched their love of nature become a part of who they are.
I have watched them walk independently through museums reading and appreciating art and history for themselves with a greater attention span than some adults.
I have watched them soak in the history of our nation with the most beautiful empathy, inquisitiveness, and often anger.
I have watched them follow and hang on every word from rangers their love of differing habitats and the unique animals that reside there growing daily.
I have watched them study their parents, for better or worse, grow in their own relationship with one another and with God in an unusually close setting.
On our worst days I imagine them as parents themselves in the throws of this very season with their children. It is then I imagine they may realize what a leap of faith this was and the sacrifices we made. Then again, they may just say we were nuts; that's okay too.
As we turn toward home we are all in a state of mixed emotion. You know when a vacation begins and you settle in excited about the days and plans ahead. Then, a few days in you are already starting to panic that it is almost over? You begin thinking about work, schedules, the laundry when you get home and you just want to rewind to the beginning? That's where we are. The day we left California and turned the RV east I just started crying. I cry a lot, so this is no surprise, but then we started listening to our road music and telling stories and soon everyone was crying. Well not Daddy, but he was feeling us. It has been more extraordinary than we ever hoped or imagined. And while it is not over yet, I am now seriously considering laundry.
We often ponder what we will miss most when we pull back into reality. Our answer? Time. I mean, we've got nothin' but time and it has been a beautiful thing.
R said months ago, "I see why you felt God wanted you to go on this journey; it really has brought us closer together and closer to God." Amen, sister. And we've had the time to do it. Now, I have set my sights on how to make what we've all learned in this time together continue when we get home and time itself becomes just a memory.
We have been on the road for seven months, driven 13,000 miles, visited 29 states, 20 National Parks, and countless National Historic Sites and Monuments. Our dream from the beginning? To chase something extraordinary. While I have no doubt this is achievable in the comfort of one's own home, we watched as our girls went off to school for eight hours a day, and after school activities, church, and friends began to compete for time together. All good things, but somehow we felt we were losing ground. Sooner than later our girls would have more friends, more activities, and we would have less and less time to be an influence. We realized we were sitting in a small window. We grabbed it.
Just what was this extraordinary for which we were hoping? We wanted to show our girls their incredible country. We relished the opportunity to truly explore each state and to do so by immersing ourselves in nature. We wanted our children to fall in love with the idea of hiking in, playing in, camping in, and just being in nature. We wanted them to have countless moments where they could be overwhelmed by the beauty of God's creation. We wanted them to meet His people, talk to them, and learn from them. We wanted them to gain confidence, develop their voice, form opinions, and ask questions. We wanted our family to get to know each other better. Albeit we may have taken this sentiment too far in 300 square feet, but it has not disappointed. Above all, we hoped it would allow them to see their God more clearly with each passing day, to come to know Him, and to grow in their own personal relationship with Him.
I won't lie and claim it has been all laughter and skipping through the National Parks. For weeks into the trip I wondered what we had done as I watched parents post back to school pictures, extracurriculars, and awards. I felt guilt. I realized our dream to chase the extraordinary would come at a price. The sacrifice meant a lot of nos prior to the trip and will mean countless more when we return. However, as month after month went by I began to realize even if these girls were to have no tangible memories of this trip we have sunk something even deeper into their souls for which I imagine I will feel no regret. Something extraordinary.
I have watched their relationship deepen as siblings. I mean who has the choice when you only have each other?
I have watched them grow in confidence speaking openly to rangers, asking questions, and participating in ways they wouldn't have before this trip.
I have watched them sit completely still in nature for long stretches of time to just take it in. I have watched their love of nature become a part of who they are.
I have watched them walk independently through museums reading and appreciating art and history for themselves with a greater attention span than some adults.
I have watched them soak in the history of our nation with the most beautiful empathy, inquisitiveness, and often anger.
I have watched them follow and hang on every word from rangers their love of differing habitats and the unique animals that reside there growing daily.
I have watched them study their parents, for better or worse, grow in their own relationship with one another and with God in an unusually close setting.
On our worst days I imagine them as parents themselves in the throws of this very season with their children. It is then I imagine they may realize what a leap of faith this was and the sacrifices we made. Then again, they may just say we were nuts; that's okay too.
As we turn toward home we are all in a state of mixed emotion. You know when a vacation begins and you settle in excited about the days and plans ahead. Then, a few days in you are already starting to panic that it is almost over? You begin thinking about work, schedules, the laundry when you get home and you just want to rewind to the beginning? That's where we are. The day we left California and turned the RV east I just started crying. I cry a lot, so this is no surprise, but then we started listening to our road music and telling stories and soon everyone was crying. Well not Daddy, but he was feeling us. It has been more extraordinary than we ever hoped or imagined. And while it is not over yet, I am now seriously considering laundry.
We often ponder what we will miss most when we pull back into reality. Our answer? Time. I mean, we've got nothin' but time and it has been a beautiful thing.
R said months ago, "I see why you felt God wanted you to go on this journey; it really has brought us closer together and closer to God." Amen, sister. And we've had the time to do it. Now, I have set my sights on how to make what we've all learned in this time together continue when we get home and time itself becomes just a memory.
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