Just got back from another trip across the US. We live in Wisconsin and all of our siblings and our parents live in Washington State. So we have made the trip quite often. We try to go a different way every time, but basically, other than taking all the back roads, there are three ways. We are always on limited time so we hurry. Several times we drove straight through without sleep, taking turns behind the wheel (my husband doing 90%). This year we had two days, so still in a hurry, and though I tend to sleep a lot in the car, it struck me once again, how beautiful and diverse our country is. We saw green fields, sunflowers, mountains ( of various shapes and sizes), rivers, creeks, sagebrush, cattle, antelope, deer, eagles, evergreens. The scenery changed almost by the hour. I feel blessed to see part of what God has gifted us with here in America. We found ourselves planning our motorhome retirement more than ever.
Tag Archives: travel
Who I Am
Who I am is not who I was and who I am is not who I will be.
I used to hate change of pretty much any kind, a new job, new school, new church…they all caused me to panic. But I am much better now. Sometimes I even look forward to it, but mostly I want stability. I always have. Growing up I lacked what I called “roots.” We moved. A lot. I attended five grade schools, a middle school and three high schools. I lived in eleven different homes. No, I was not a military brat, a runaway or in foster care. We just kept “moving up.” When things got better for us financially, when my parents pay scale went up, we moved to a better rental and eventually built our own home. Then my parents started their own business, on the other side of the state, and we moved across the mountains of Washington. So, though I never really thought about it at the time, I know now that it contributed to my lack of security.
Amazingly, I married a wanna-be gypsy, a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of man. I am a more plan-for-a-month-before-you-do-anything kind of woman, proving opposites attract. Since my husband and I have been together, thirty years, we have lived in fourteen homes. Most of them were homes we remodeled and sold for a profit. We’ve lived in five different towns in three different states. Thankfully, we spent fifteen of those years in one home, and attended the same church for thirteen years.
Over the years, I have learned that God and my husband are my roots. I am “rooted and grounded Him.” So now, as I am literally pushing fifty, the things that terrified me at thirty aren’t so scary now and some things even sound like fun. My husband used to joke around about selling everything, buying an RV and “hitting the road.” Now, I love to travel, museums, lakes, mountains, state parks, coastal towns, historical landmarks, their all good. However, I always enjoy coming home…to a home, my home. So needless to say his jokes almost always sent me into a panic attack. I always said, “I need someplace to have roots.”
Now, we daydream about it. Most evenings you will find us on my little laptop, cruising Craig’s list and EBay searching for RV’s. Several weekends we have visited the local camper lots and went to look at motor homes for sale by owners. We want to simplify our lives and make it possible to spend more time with our scattered families. The older we get, the harder it is to be away from our daughter and her family that lives nine hundred miles away, and our parents and siblings that live two thousand miles away. We have learned that being connected is what “roots” are all about. Not a place.
Life changes us and God knew just what circumstances it would take to mold us. He knows what the finished product is supposed to look like, after all. I find the material things that I thought I wanted just aren’t that important. People, now they are important. Making a difference and impacting their lives for good-that’s a reason for living.
So what’s the point?
I am better than I once was, but I will be so much better than I am now.