This weekend took R-family to a place that,
honestly,
we really did not want to go.
Instead of kicking back
for the holiday weekend,
R-kids and I headed into the great unknown,
sort of kicking
and screaming.
Leaving our comforts
and comfort zones
behind,
we packed our suitcases,
parked our car in a place it wasn’t used to,
lay down in beds someone else had made,
trusted people we had never met,
and chose to be very
very
brave.
No one could call our weekend a piece of cake.
Or a bundle of laughs.
Or a walk in the park.
Although,
actually,
there was a little bit of all of that.
It was long.
It was tiring.
It was strange.
It was stretching.
It was inconvenient.
But
we were not
alone.
And it was also good.
Good,
hard,
peace-filled,
uncomfortable,
and life-giving.
All at once.
So whenever we could escape,
we followed the sound of water on rocks
and sat as near to it
as we could get
for at least a few moments.
Yes.
It was a difficult, odd, out-of-the-ordinary
four-day thing
that we weren’t too excited about.
But we did it anyway.
For the sake of freedom
and truth
and hope
and serenity.
Which, now that I think about it,
do sound like good reasons
to do a hard thing
now and then.
Don’t you think?
xo
P.S. Sometimes my children simply amaze me. Even more so after this weekend. I love you beyond words, R-kids.
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