to see something grand

"splendor and majesty are before Him; strength and beauty fill His sanctuary." ~ psalm 96:6

when i was 12 my parents decided it was high time for our family to go gaze at the grand canyon.

we lived in cleveland, ohio, and since money wasn’t growing on trees in our yard, the plan was, we would use our christmas break and we would drive --- from cleveland to the grand canyon. 2000 miles across the country. and because it wasn’t exciting enough for six of us to travel all those miles together in one van, my grandparents were invited to join our expedition.

1 van. 8 people. 2000 miles.

now in order for you to get the full picture, it's important to also explain our seating issues. though my dad's van was great for his painting business, it was a little lacking for his passengers. you see, the van only had two seats: driver and front passenger. but dad, being the ever-resourceful guy that he is, figured out a way to attach two aluminum lawn chairs inside the van for grandma and grandpa's seating pleasure. the children?  well, we, in  typical 1970-something fashion, were left to roll around like a quartet of paint cans in the empty shell of the van's back.

and so on a snowy, december day, our gray van holding 8 people, all their luggage, and a whole bunch of high expectations, left ohio and headed for sunny arizona.  and it was good for a little while.  we didn’t have iphones or ipads or itouches or i-anythings, but somehow we survived. somehow in the back of that van, my siblings and i kept ourselves occupied for several days.  i'm not certain what exactly my brother and sisters did,  but i read through every nancy drew mystery i had been able to stuff into my suitcase. in fact, i remember reading the last one slowly, afraid i'd have to make the return trip home without the escape of my reading material.

i'm sure we also did our share of antagonizing my parents with comments like, "i'm hungry" and "she's touching me" and "when are we going to be there?" i don't exactly remember my dad threatening to pull over and spank any of us, but i'm pretty certain that scenario must have occurred. in fact, i'm positive.

one of the most vivid memories from that journey is my grandmother. you see, every time we’d go around a little bend or curve in the road, grandma and grandpa, in their aluminum chairs, would sway slightly left or slightly right. for grandma this was on par with riding a roller coaster and she reacted in like fashion giving a big "whoo-hoo!" though grandma might have enjoyed her theme park experience in  the back of our van, i'm sure she and grandpa were doubting their decision to tag along by the time we crossed into kentucky.

add to grandmother's whoo-hoos, my own mother's, "would you look at THAT, kids!" and the memory is pretty much complete. though i get it now, i didn't understand her enthusiasm back then. every 10 minutes or so, my excited mom would yell out, “look kids, look. would you just look at THAT!” and we’d all clamor out from the depths of the van only to just miss that amazing wildflower display roadside or a piece of texas tumbleweed rolling down the highway.

and this went on hour after hour, day after day, and somewhere around oklahoma, i remember saying to my almost-teenage self .... "how in the world did i get here?”

........

that was 33 years ago.

this past week, my husband and i took our own kids to go gaze at the grand canyon. we too, thought it "high time" for this adventure.

assuredly, our travel looked a little different. we all had, not only seats on our 747, but also a variety of apple products in hand to occupy us for our 2 and 1/2 hour flight. gone were the aluminum lawn chairs, gone were the nancy drew mysteries, gone were the long hours of a long road trip.

and though travel and time and even i have changed, i found myself asking that same question: "how in the world did i get here?"

except this time it wasn't about the circumstances of my travel, but it was me watching my kids gaze into the canyon with mouths open and eyes wide in disbelief. this time it wasn't me escaping into my mystery book, but me enjoying my kids take in the mystery and grandeur and wonder of this great canyon.

for as i thrilled as i was to see the grand canyon again, i was even more thrilled as a mother to witness my kids seeing it for their first time.

and though i am happy our travel didn't require lawn chairs or long hours, i am thankful, even now, for that experience my parents gave us 30 some years ago.

regardless of how we travel, regardless of the time, regardless of the trip, it is always a gift to go see something grand and to experience some adventure.

can't pass up an opportunity to have a little extra fun ...

we used sedona as our home base. loved sedona and the red rock!

emily, getting her sedona on.

we celebrated sarah's 14th birthday with a surprise helicopter ride! wow. just wow.

my trio of photographers! we've all got the photography bug.

3 sisters

the adventurers! what a tribe.

ATV-ing in the desert

climbing camelback mountain -- to the tip top!

mountain climber connor

back to phoenix for a little RandR after all that adventure.

lazy river. lazy mama!

made a shutterfly book on the way home ... they sent the link to my blog.  slightly obsessed over here with shutterfly books!

Click here to view this photo book larger

Create your own custom photo books at Shutterfly.com.

the truth about turtles

rarely do we get to see the full circle of something. 

i mean, i do see (often, in fact) the full circle of hungry children scrounging around in our pantry -- leaving the door wide open, leaving the light on, leaving the empty box out on the counter. i find the wrapper abandoned on coffee table and a sticky chunk of granola bar affixed to the couch cushion. sometimes, i even see some crumbs on the face. yes, i suppose the full circle of that is pretty commonplace. at least in this home.

but then there are other things. special things. rare things.

like the turtles which showed up on our driveway last week on wednesday. in the middle of a rainy evening.

baby snapping turtles. everywhere.

thirty, maybe forty. 

cute little guys.

 all of us tickled. delighted. curious. what were they doing here?

we slept that night with a turtle migration taking place just outside our front door. 

the next morning, we woke to find even more -- the party had grown.

clearly, they had hatched in our yard and were now heading for the creek. it's what baby turtles do.

a few months earlier -- june, i believe, i watched a big mama turtle amble into the flower bed outside our family room window. her massive body digging deep in the mulch -- laying her eggs. i snapped a quick picture on my phone to show the kids who were away at school. i knew she'd be gone by the time they came home. 

and though she soon traveled back to the creek on the edge of our yard, those eggs stayed all summer long. they stayed buried in a flower bed filled with black-eyed susans and purple coneflower -- at the corner of our house, just outside our window. growing. ripening. readying for the hatch-jubilee and triumphant turtle parade across our busy driveway. 

when the younger kids came home from school, it was all forces combined for the great turtle rescue event of 2013. teen girl, 10 year old boy and the five year old all working together to help these tiny turtles along. my youngest three children on a wildlife mission. one by one, each straggling turtle was carried to the creek bed. whether looking for a ride or not, they got one. it was a perfect, rainy day adventure. the creek was low, the mud was deep and the children determined.

later, with red cheeks and dirty everything, the threesome traipsed back into my kitchen telling stories of how they created a new home for the turtles -- "turtle cove." how they added branches and twigs and leaves. telling stories of how they worked together in the muck and played their part in this grand migratory moment.

when the oldest boy arrived home from soccer a couple of hours later, he too, threw on some creek boots and headed out into our version of the wilderness. he wanted to check things out. oversee the situation. approve. he's like that.

i found him awhile later on the driveway. soccer socks soaking.

boots muddy.

dog soaking too. muddy and in the middle of it all. ridiculously happy.

yes, that's a smile.

an event. a big mess. a wonderful taste of adventure. a slice of something extraordinary.

i watch my kids, and even myself, get all riled up at this kind of thing and it makes my mama-heart sing. i love the mess and the mud and the little bit of wednesday afternoon mayhem. it's unexpected and a tiny bit on the edge. it's different. it's almost like playing pretend. for them. for me.

because, the truth is, i like to be just a little bit on the edge of adventure. i like, now and then, to dip my toe in the water of something that feels just a wee bit wild.

but the truth {also} is ... i'm not sure i want to live there. stay there. camp out here.

i am pretty sure, this was fabulous for one wednesday afternoon ... but really wouldn't want to be dealing with the muddy mess everyday. and though it's fine for my kids, on occasion, to be handling baby snapping turtles on our suburban driveway, what if it's my kids wanting to someday wrestle alligators in the outback or move as missionaries to guatemala city or, even worse, head off with friends on a college road trip? do you know what i mean?

i don't mind the pretend risky living.

but how do i feel when it's a little more real?

because just like this mama turtle, i want to keep my kids in safe shells, nestled away somewhere nice. i want to control my level of adventure. and even more so, i want to control their level of adventure.

i like a little bit of drama ... a tiny bit of something ... as long as i'm the one running the show. as long as i get to pick out the props and set up the stage and dictate the script.

but what happens when we move from migratory turtles in the creek bed to something bigger? larger? wilder?

where am i in that kind of adventure?

when God says be bold, be brave, be outside your comfort zone ... what happens then?

because, we all know, sometimes he asks us to be someplace more than just on our driveway in wet soccer socks.

He has plans for us.

grand plans.

plans for adventure.

and like these tiny turtles bursting forth from their summer shells, i know my kids are all on the verge of bursting forth into a life filled with its share of wilderness ...

i won't be able to control it. and i might not even see the full circle of what it is. i'll get glimpses ... muddy footprints across my heart as i watch them explore, discover, travel, grow, expand, live.

because God didn't create us to stay safely nestled in nice shells or summer gardens ... He created us to head out into the unknown...to break free...to burst forth ... to be bold ... to become.

“remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. ~ isaiah 43:18-19

i know we're talking about turtles, not ships, but i have always loved this quote ... and think it applies!

"a ship in a harbour is safe, 

but that is not what ships are built for."

 ~ william shedd

thick and thin ice

there was a time when i worried about leaving him alone in his high chair.  a time when i had to buckle him into his car seat.  a time when i had to help him with his math facts and tuck in his covers. there was a time when i worried about him climbing too high in the oak tree or swimming too far in the deep end or staying up too late at a friend's house.

there was a time.

when we become mothers we are given not only children, but we're also given this extra dose of worry.  it kind of goes with the territory.  and though i would never consider myself to be an extreme worrier, i am not immune. no mother is.  it's just part of the deal.  we worry.  whether it is wondering if he is getting enough green vegetables in his diet or stressing over if he's studying enough for his final exams...as his mom, i am kind of along for the ride.

but there's this fine line...this delicate balance.  sometimes as parents, we are sort of skating on thin ice with our kids.  we know they need a little wiggle room...a dose of adventure and a good taste of independence...but we also know too much can send them crashing right through the thin ice of life.  we have to know our kids and know what they can handle and that, my friends, takes a lot of work and even more energy.  i want my boys (and my girls, for that matter) to have my support and encouragement along the way.  i want them to know i am there to cheer them on from the sidelines or even run with them in the game, but i am also still the one who has to sometimes put on the breaks or tighten the reins.

this mothering thing isn't always easy.  (can i get an a-men?)

since moving to minnesota last summer, we have had a 14,528 acre lake right in our backyard.  it is breathtaking to see...amazing to look at...inspiring to consider...but it is also a bit of a pain in the backside of this mother.  it, at the very least, provides some potentially dangerous issues we need to deal with.

tyler's a smart boy, but he has this incredible zest for the outdoors and big adventure.  his favorite show: man vs. wild.  what can i say, my boy is wired for this stuff.  i can remember him as a small kid whittling sticks in our woods...making forts and weapons and shelter.  i've watched him dig up grubs and catch crawfish in the creek.  the boy loves to fish and explore and i'm sure, at some level (though he'd never admit it) he loves to pretend.  he's a lot like his mama. (except i'm not all that much into digging up grubs).

and living on this lake has been no different.  we traded in our wooded acres and trails back in georgia for this massive lake minnetonka.  ("minne" means water and "tonka" means big).  i'm pretty sure there hasn't been a day since moving, that i haven't watched him meander down to the "big water" out back.  sometimes i find him standing before the great window at the rear of the house just watching the lake.  standing and staring.  i understand that, i stand and stare quite a bit, too.

the summer was filled with kayaking and jet skiing and late night fishing.  i, of course, worried about him being out on the water.  i didn't want him down there alone.  i wanted his kayak to stay within sight. i insisted on life jackets and certain obvious (at least to me) precautions.  when he balked or argued i calmly explained, "sorry, it's part of my job."

oh, no...this mothering thing isn't always easy.   (another a-men, please.)

i waited for winter to come and kind of breathed a sigh of relief when everything turned cold and frozen.  surely now he was safe.    the open water was gone and in it's place a gigantic, 2 feet thick glacier had arrived.  except that ice has it's own issues as well.  what was i thinking?  he wasn't safe.  not safe at all.  if that basic knowledge isn't enough there's this huge flashing sign just outside of our neighborhood which says, "sheriff's advisory -- ice is never safe." i drive by it at least 5 times a day.  i have to be honest, i'm getting a bit annoyed with it.  "stop reminding me!" i want to yell. "i know the ice isn't safe...i know my kids aren't really safe. ever. anywhere. i get it already!"

this might not surprise you, but my 15 year old son isn't thinking about safe.

the gas powered auger from the carlins
which shaves a hole through the ice.
i think, if he's not careful,
he could end up shaving all the
 way to china with it!

no, tyler isn't thinking about safety, but he is thinking about all the ice has to offer.  he had two items at the top of his christmas list this year:  an ice auger and an ice fishing rod.  some friends offered to let him borrow their ice house/tent and some of their gear, as well. (a shout out to the carlin family -- thank you!)  all he's missing is the 6 pack of beer and an unshaven face. NO! NO! NO!  ice house, ice fishing rod, auger, space heater ... and all of a sudden my southern raised boy has transformed into a minnesota man.  (he would really hate that i just wrote that -- we'll see if he reads my blog).

today the temperatures were as low as negative 14 degrees with a windchill at minus 35.  but after a half day of school, guess where i found tyler this afternoon.  yep, you guessed it, out on the ice.  and he literally spent the rest of the day out there. after a couple of hours, i decided it was time to check on him (and take a few pictures).  so with a thermos of hot chocolate (my excuse) in one hand and my camera in the other, i headed down to the 14, 583 acre glacier.  in case you were wondering what a camera toting, hot chocolate bringing mother wears in negative 14 degree weather when visiting her son in his ice house, i made sure to have sarah snap a picture.  nice, huh?
can you say e s -  k i -  m o !

so, here's what i found when i got down there...

that would be his breath, he may be ice fishing, 

but he hasn't taken up smoking cigarettes. =) 

there's even a seat in the pop up tent!

his spear! what every boy needs.

kind of freaky to see the ice...but if you look, you can see it is about 2 feet thick.

the hole continues to freeze over (because it's THAT cold) so he uses this ladle to remove the icy layer.

things like space heaters really do help!

before seeing "the hole" i was worried that he could fall in. i assure you, not possible.

"see ya later, mom." and back in he goes.

these characters are right next door...we've decided they don't have jobs.  they (and their truck) are ALWAYS out on the ice. we think they sleep there.

i got to the top of the hill,  looked back out...and thought to myself, 

"there once was day when i wouldn't leave him alone in his high chair..."

so that's it folks.  just another tiny slice of our minnesota life.  and maybe a reminder or two, that we, moms and dads, are often walking a little bit on thin ice ourselves.  it is not always easy to get good footing or to find that perfect balance while watching our kids grow up.  it's a grand adventure for sure -- one i wouldn't trade for anything.  this parenting thing keeps us humbled and, if we're following the lead of Jesus, it keeps us on our knees.   whether strapped into their high chairs or let loose on the ice, these precious kiddos belong first to God...and we have to trust Him, both, in their safety and in their adventures.

solid ground or solid ice...this parenting thing isn't ever easy.
and all together now, the people say...  A-MEN!

* p.s.    tyler sent this picture to his sister...he caught 9 fish that day.

and like any good fisherman, he'd want to make sure i included that fact in this story!