Kindred Spirit

 

Have you heard of the Kindred Spirit mailbox at Sunset Beach, NC?

It has stood in the sand dunes near the jetty of Sunset Beach for over 48 years; a lighthouse of sorts sending its beacon of camaraderie to travelers, shell seekers, beach walkers and old souls. More than anything- the mailbox stands as a reminder of our innate desire to connect with like-hearted kindred spirits.

My best friend, Anna and I made the 1.74-mile search, heading southwest from the Sunset Beach pier looking for the mailbox among the dunes. We really didn’t know what to expect other than a black, marked mailbox facing the waves. I must tell you- my friend wasn’t feeling well and was a little more than annoyed at my insistence to find the mailbox. She fussed the whole 1.74 miles…. "the W H O L E COTTON-PICKIN, DADGUM way" . (ha)

We finally spotted the mailbox and two park benches up high on the dunes. We approached with genuine curiosity; what could possibly compel beachcombers to this mailbox for the better part of half of a century?  

Upon opening the mailbox we found several spiral notebooks in the box with pens. The pages were filled with  an assortment of thoughts and messages; friendly notes to fellow passerby's, some were heavy hearted odes to lost loves and broken hearts that had come to find solace in the waves. A few of the notes were journal entries telling of  sojourners explorations, vacations or tales of inspiration and joy in finding the mailbox. 

  Then, in the back of the mailbox was a leather bound journal....a place to record a memory or leave a letter to your loved ones who have gone on. Anna unwound the leather straps that held book's pages together. Her disinterest and irritation at me vanished as she immersed herself in the writings. 

As I was reading through the other journals, I decided to write in one. I chronicled meeting a very special person who I instantly knew was my own "kindred spirit"....he was an instant friend, but was out of reach to me and long distance in more ways than one. However, in spite of our mutual feelings towards each other, I had resigned  myself to letting go of him...with only the best thoughts, wishes and prayers for him. Sitting on the bench overlooking the water, I poured my heart and lovelorn wishes out to strangers and the wind...wondering if  anything would ever come of our connection and  feelings of "love at first sight".  One of the lines I wrote that day said,  " May this feeling of kinship, peace and love remain in our hearts as a lighthouse to other souls on their journeys through life." And with that prayer to love and God and someone who held my heart....I signed off. 

At the same time, Anna was pouring out her heart regarding the "first love" she had ever known....her Daddy....both of us sitting there, with different kinds of tears and loss. I don't know for sure, but I've always felt that Anna came to peace with her daddy's passing that afternoon. Looking back, the afternoon was poetry in motion, the waves  like the ebb and flow of first loves and lost loves...of hellos and goodbyes....its one of my fondest memories of the summer. The Kindred Spirit Mailbox is truly a landmark in the sand dunes. 

It's been almost two years since that day. I intend to go back and update my journal entry at some point this summer. Because, that "kindred spirit" that I had wrote about is now my husband. Love was a lighthouse that truly led us back to each other. What I wrote in the journal that day has a new meaning to me...like a vow to him and truly, to others, that we keep the feeling of kinship, peace and love in our hearts as a lighthouse to other souls on their journeys....may we always remember our feelings at first sight, first love, first true kindred spirit. We're all on a journey, showing up at the same place.... let us each be a place to find a friendly message, a warm welcome and a place to share our hearts with fellow sojourners.  <3 

Shine all your light, 

Cass. K. 

A lesson in Blooms

 Last summer I purchased an orchid off a sales rack at Harris Teeter. The plant had one bloom left on it, and was cheap. She bloomed, eventually wilted and just sat around taking up countertop space.

I watered the bloomless plant for several weeks, got weary of it and decided to toss it in the trash, along with another orchid that was gifted to me. 

I put both of the dormant plants near by back door to take out on my next trash day; but, there was a nagging knot in my stomach...how could I toss away something that still had life in it?

For a lack of a better word, I felt convicted about wanting to throw away plants that still had life in them. 

But, alive or not,  they had become a chore, something else requiring attention, thought and responsibility. They needed special food and a surprisingly specific watering cycle and required consistent temperatures and filtered light.  Instead of enjoying the delicate flowers- I had to focus on them and be mindful of what I was doing for them- without an instantaneous,  tangible reward in sight. I wasn't sure if I would ever see another bloom from them. It was settled. I was tossing them. 

However, the convicting thoughts hit my heart again. There was still life in the stalk. 

How often are we just like that in our personal relationships? We thrive as consumers. We are very keen on participating in all the sparkle, shiny and fun aspects of "spring" without thought, but the second a situation requires commitment or work on our end....we're quick to be back at the nursery picking out fresh pots of new flowers. Looking for instant gratification without the effort or pain of any sacrifice. 

It really hurts to think about, honestly, because I've been guilty of it too. Even with people, treating people as though are disposable.

I don't want to be a consumer. I want to be a nurturer of tender things; like, friendship, love and relationships. I want to be a creator of welcoming places where hearts are safe to be vulnerable and honest. I want to be a person willing to adjust my schedule for yours. You need more light, or more fertilizer? Let's figure it out. You need to go dormant and "just be" for awhile....let's work it out. 

The whole winter passed with me tending these dormant plants. After several months I noticed nubs forming along one of the green stalks. I couldn't believe it. 

 Now, blooms weigh down one of the branches and I've had to pin it up! There's about 8 more buds waiting to open. I learned a lot about orchids over the winter. The more I learned, the more invested I was in doing things right for the flowers. I feel so much pride now looking at the hot pink and white flowers, its not just a plant to me anymore...it's a lesson and a reward for commitment. 

I can't help but view my relationship with others differently after this winter lesson in consistency and commitment. I hope that in the end we all learn to be more than consumers, but creators of beauty and nurturers of life. <3 

Shine.

Cass



 

The Loss of a Companion

 

 

 Disclosure: I am being woefully dramatic.

Today is a sad day. I am grieving the loss of my most faithful companion which has been with me through so, so many stages of life.

I know it is weird to admit but, I’m unashamedly and emotionally attached to my desktop keyboard.  I have had it through the divorce years, the Walk-in Tub years, parenting as a single mom, chronicling life’s ups and downs through blogging, “the Great Shunning,” the formative ‘Kinley years’ and now. This inanimate possession has processed the bulk of my soul-searching, has clacked out a lot of communications from contracts that took my business to the next level to heartbroken blogs, side hustles, content writing, airline ticket reservations and tons of everything in between.

When Gabe was in Afghanistan, it was my only connection to my son….Volker and I used to spend H O U R S on Skype….Jacob learned his A, B, C’s on this keyboard! Oh my goodness! The memories, the conversations, the secrets and confessions….the LAUGHS and ultimately, the resurrection of internal hope through supportive relationships kindled and nourished at this keyboard. This keyboard served as a lifeline in so many ways. I know I’m dramatic but finding a replacement for it feels a lot like the closing of a chapter…. here is a toast to its cushy familiarity and to more plane tickets and many, many yet to be experienced happy blogs…..

The Campaign Trail has some Pot Holes

 Crazy how saying YES to things can really, really change the trajectory of your life. Last spring, an acquitenance called me with news about his friend running for an elected position. A big, high profile position. 
I told him I've never been very involved in politics, but that I would be interested in hearing about his friend and learning more. One conversation lead to another and then to an in person meeting....and a volunteer position on someone's campaign. 

Over the summer I helped out by making calls and introductions. I spent my weekends making marketing materials, writing a lot of articles, blogs and website content. I learned a lot. I learned that making a change takes a lot of phone calls and elbow grease. 

Then- in late September a friend and co-worker of mine said he was really praying about running for office. A seat as a Representative in the NC House. I was proud of him and felt like he could really make a difference. I encouraged him and really believed that NC needed him. I was really excited  about his passion for the office and hoped that he would run.

The next week he came in to my office and said he was filling out some paperwork for the Board of Elections and asked if I could help him fill out the forms and double check after him.  

That weekend he made plans to attend his first public event as a candidate. We didn't have marketing materials or even business cards to pass out- but he was going to be there and make the rounds at an event called "Politics in the Park". 

To this day, I don't know how this all evolved into me being his campaign manager, but I'm bursting with honor and pride at being part of this process and journey. 

In November, I went to the Board of Elections with Brian and his parents to officially file for candidacy. He was "in it to win it" and we hit the pavement hard with spitballing, researching and marketing.

Every spare moment has been crammed with phone calls, social media posts, article writing, spitballing ideas for fundraising and creating campaign graphics. Every weekend spent making those spitball ideas become reality. 

Since announcing the campaign we've had our fair share of hurdles to jump. The state has redrawn district lines. We've gone from District 70 to District 61 and back to District 70./..which is a marketing nightmare. The primary dates changed from March to May with talk of it being extended until June. Brian's son had a serious football injury resulting in several weeks of hospitalization, numerous surgeries and now awaiting a skingraft. In January, I was diagnosed with severe anemia and needed emergency surgery which required a 6 week recovery. WE'VE CLEARED EVERY HURDLE. God has been faithful through all of this! 

The primaries are in just a few weeks. I'm looking forward to what God has in store for Brian and  Randolph County!

This is Why

It's been almost two years since I purchased my home.   The very first time that I stepped onto the property that I now call home I envisioned BBQ's, pool parties and friends milling around. I saw my adult children chasing their little ones, swings hanging from trees and bikes left laying in the yard.  It's what sold the home. The image of  the chance to make memories in the same place----over and over and over. 

In June, I was able to see that vision fulfilled again. Montgomery Jane had her 1st birthday in Gigi's back yard. It was so beautiful. Kiddles worked so hard to bring Montie's party together.  Papa G built a flower cart to be the focal point of the Parisian Flower Market. The whole afternoon was perfect.

                                                                                                                            

I'm so grateful for my home and family. <3

Shine. Always. 

Accepting and Letting Go

Some truth you hold
Some you let go
But in the end, you've got to know

What kind of love
Is a love that won't break down?
What kind of love
Honestly knows no bounds?
Hopes all things, believes all things
Never, never let me go  -
What Kind of Love, Amy Grant
(Bonus CD- More Music from Behind the Eyes)

Some truth you hold........some you let go. Such simple, profound words of wisdom.

I'm learning to hold some truths. Hold truth...but, let the weight of other people's  presumptions and conditions go. Somethings just are what they are; And somethings are the way they are because you haven't held to truth. 

I've been in some fairly intense therapy with a Christian therapist for a couple of months. My goodness, the things we hold on to and wounds that we protect.....the lies we swallow and regurgitate and swallow again. 

Apparently,  I'm somewhat of an emotional hoarder. Walling up my pain behind busyness and outsourced projects that keep me moving....because when I'm quiet, I feel. And when I feel, I think and when I think I can't make sense of the pain I've known....so it becomes a whole cycle of self-imploding. 

I'm learning to hold and let go....to think and feel and release. Don't hide behind the pain and wall up the feelings for later, when it may make sense.....just let it go.

Discoveries on the Homefront

I'm still in the process of discovering suprises with my new home. Some of the discoveries include: a family of raccoons that  live under the neighbor's barn.  I'm less than a few hundred yards from Main Street so I didn't expect to see much wildlife here in town, but boy was I suprised! There have been deer, a larger than average fox who, like the raccoons, seem to supplement thier winter scavenging at the neighbor's cat bowl. 

Last winter daffodil bulbs pushed up through the front yard presenting a beautiful sea of yellow with intermixed splashes of purple crocus.  It felt like a housewarming gift left by a thoughtful seller. It was a lovely suprise and I couldn't wait to see what spring and summer brought. 

One suprise that still makes me laugh happened on the day of closing on the house. My friend, Sherri discovered a third bathroom in my storage barn out by the pool! I never even opened the barn to look in it prior to going under contract! Ha. 

In two weeks it will be one year since the day I closed on this house. One full year. I'm sitting on my back deck now, looking at the pool, listening to the fountatin on the back deck enjoying the sunsetting through the trees. I'm happy to be home. I'm contenat and I'm so very grateful for what God has graciously and mercifully given. 

A Terrifying Revelation

I highly respect the writings, life and philosophy of CS Lewis. When I heard this quote it cut me a little and convicted me a lot.

My experiences with "LOVE" haven't been very good. In fact, several have commented that my life should be a book or Lifetime movie.

I've known pain and rejection on levels that are reprehensible. Is there ever enough time and healing that the "broken" become "unbroken"? Experiences have left me gun-shy on a level that I didn't realize until I heard this quote a few weeks ago.

Don't get me wrong: I can LOVE. I feel things so deeply. I can give, care, share. I can even forgive.....I have a powerful sense of hope and promise. I can feel. I love so very deeply....

What I can't do is lower my shield, relax my guard or even feign a modicum of vulnerability. I have worked so hard to not ever be naive again that I've lost my ability to experience vulnerability....and according to Mr. Lewis....that translates as losing the ability to be loved. I can love....I just can't allow myself to be loved. That is a terrifying revelation.

An Abundance of Love

I have two babies coming this summer.

Kiddles is having her first baby in June. A baby girl who she's giving a very special family name. Last Thursday morning I went to the ultrasound with Sam and Kiddles.

Baby girl weighs 11 ounces.  Life is such a miracle. It's mind-boggling to see the four chambers of her little heart pulsing and know that it's the size of a dime. 

Gabe and Cate are also having a baby this summer. Baby Griffin is due in July. We don't know the sex yet- but what an exciting summer it's going to be! What an abundance of Love and snuggles and excitement we will have!!

Today Ben-Ben turned two. I Facetimed them tonight and he said,
"Hi Gigi! I'm two! I'm two!" He melts my heart. We read Ayelee and Ben's favorite book, "There's a Monster in Your Book!" and Gabe's childhood favorite book, "Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Mo". Each turn of the page is creating a new memory while bringing back so many old memories. Gabe could recite the book by heart when he was three; I'm pretty sure he still can!

My heart is full and I'm so, so grateful for the abundance of love that's been bestowed upon me and my family.

Seventy-Two Degrees

The weather was beautiful today and this evening. Jacob and I built a fire on the back deck and grilled our hotdogs for dinner. 

The sky was clear, the moon had a beautiful ring of light around it. The raccoon from our woods ventured out to our driveway snooping around the neighbors back porch. The moon was bright enough that it reflected in the raccoons eyes, making him easy to track through the darkness.

Today's weather was perfect....but it was the conversation and easy pace of our evening that made it a warm night to be around the firepit. <3 br="" nbsp="">

Placidity in Motion

** I wrote this post almost 2 years ago but never posted it, I'm posting it now for personal record keeping.**

For the last four years I've been in constant motion- my brain has not rested- all my resources, energy and heart has been put into establishing, growing and marketing a rental division for work. Even in my "down time" my brain was planning, anxiously running numbers in my head, mentally tying up loose-ends left on my desk over the weekend or simply re-hashing decisions that were made the prior day to make sure I had made the best choices. I exhausted all my internal resources; the emotional and mental bankruptcy took it's toll on my creativity, motivation and spiritual wellbeing. It's no one's fault, this isn't a "poor me" post- it's more of a "this is what's going on and why" type of post.

I lost contact with people very, very important to me; including myself. My real self- not the one crawling on all fours trying to forge a path for survival. When I finally broke down to the point of complete exhaustion my doctor held both of my hands and said, "STOP. STOP. STOP. Literally, Casandra, listen to me....I'm not asking you to slow down. I'm not asking you to take a chill pill. I'm telling you to STOP."

It was a chilling moment. A moment of her holding me in place, locking eyes with me. She wasn't pleading. She wasn't advising. She was commanding. And it scared me.

She advised me to resign from my job within a month. The thing I was molding, building and nursing for four years to sustain my livlihood was killing me? She was very dogmatic.

Obviously, I didn't quit my job. But I did resign some of the self-inflicted anxiety and quit shouldering some of the worries that wasn't my place to shoulder; I am drawn towards and adopt responsibilities like little girls are drawn to cute puppies.

In the midst of getting better, having infusions and learning to quelch the voices of anxiety I was reclaiming lost territory within myself. I re-read books that had shaped me spiritually. I dug out an old sermon tape that I used to listen to for spiritual refilling. I found the things that encourage and inspire me and dusted them off, polished them up and started doing them again.

I STOPPED. I really did. And things changed. My perspective changed. The anxiety that hovered over me like a fog started to clear and I felt different. I felt more like myself.

It takes a little time sometimes
To get your feet back on the ground
It takes a little time sometimes
To get the Titanic turned back around
It takes a little time sometimes
But baby, you're not goin' down
It takes more than you got right now
Give it, give it time
Two years have passed since my doctor said that to me. It's taken a full two years to come to grips with priorities and learning to let go and adapt as priorities can change from one day to the next. It's really, really hard to let go; sometimes, harder than it is to hold on.

Febreezing The Blog

I'm going to be much more intentional about blogging/journaling this year; even if it's only once a month. I will be making a concerted effort to fluff and "febreeze" the blog over the next few weeks with new layout, graphics and updated profile information to freshen it up.

I'm excited to begin writing again and hopefully, with the blogging comes picking up my camera and making time to tell stories through photography.

Full Circle Kind of Love

Last July one of my clients passed away, over the last 8 months or so, his wife of 54 years has been my point of contact. Watching her grieve has been like watching a slow, slow train wreck; her pain is palpable. She was so well loved and everything in her demeanor expressed security, contentment and wellbeing in the most postive ways.

I took this photo in Asheville some years ago.

Today, making small talk while I was pulling up her account she mentioned that her daughters took her shopping for granite yesterday. She said her girls are in the process of remodeling her house. She laughed, "I have a state of the art kitchen and no one to cook for." She sighed.

She also mentioned that her grand-daughter (a well known interior designer in the area) has ordered her all new living room furniture and rugs. There's painters in and out. A new french door leads to the back patio. She sighed again. "The girls are so excited. They're really having a time."

"That all sounds really nice, Mrs. S, how do you feel about the changes?"

She began to sob. I mean, the kind of sob that gushes out without warning and makes your gut twist when you hear the pain.

"Every day there's less of him. It's not been a year and he wouldn't even recognize our home. Every new piece is less of his memory here."

She cried for a few minutes. Gathering her composure she apologized for spilling all of this to me over a phone call.

I have to admit, I couldn't help but cry.

"Have you told your daughters that this may be a little too much, too soon for you?"

"They're loving me in the way that their daddy taught them- by giving of themselves." You could hear the smile in her voice as she said this, " They're having so much fun doing this- it's healing for them. And having them here is healing for me. A new chair doesn't take him a away any more than an old chair brings him back."

Blunt, honest, wide-eyed reality. So much wisdom.

I sat silent in my headset, staring out the window long after our call ended.

Love is so powerful and complex. In an incredible way, the very same pain that consumes her is the very love that's healing her.

A reflection of a heart in a window- taken in Asheville, NC.

May we all know a full circle love like this.

The Shadowlands

I went to my Grandpa's tonight. His mental capacity is declining at a rapid pace. Sometimes, showing him pictures jars his memory and his face lights up. You can literally watch the sparks of recognition firing off inside his brain and for a moment- it seems like a light sputters on in the back recesses of his mind. Tonight, he smiled while looking meaningfully at a picture....but like his memory, the smile faded pretty quickly.

This all feels painfully familiar. We buried my Grandma in 2004 after a 10 year sentence of withering away from the debilitating thievery of alzheimers. The disease that steals your loved ones from the inside out and leaves just the shells of them....sometimes, compeletely functioning and seemingly in perfect health.

Grandpa was still holding the picture I was showing him and tapping my phone screen saying, "This here's that family. That family in Missouri. They were good people. We used to run around with these boys."

I pointed to one of the men in the picture and said, "Do you know who that is Grandpa? Do you recognize him?"

He seems to have to really stare hard and concentrate to be able to make a connection with the locked up memories. He said, " I used to know him real good, you know. I don't think he's around here much. I haven't seen him. Not in awhile."

I saw a shadow of sadness pass in front of his eyes, but like his memory, my phone screen went black; the picture and moment were gone. Grandpa handed the picture of his brother and of himself back to me.

And I realized just how right he was...we haven't seen him around these parts for awhile now. Hot tears streamed poured down my face. Grace gave me tissues. I kept apologizing for bawling my eyes out on her couch. Grandpa just blankly stared at me. I try to imagine what he's thinking of me- Virtually a stranger to him. I've come to their house with pictures of people he used to know and now I'm sitting and bawling for no apparent reason. He seems unconcerned and uninterested. His hand is on the remote. He's ready to turn the Weather Channel volume up the moment he deems it's socially acceptable to do so. Grandma Grace pats me on the back and rubs my shoulder. She tells me that I need take this season of Grandpa's life in and ingest it in smaller doses. She said I should grieve it as I go. She wasn't around when Grandma Juanita died, but she said that Grandpa told her that I had a very hard time letting Grandma go. She suggested that I share the season, join the journey.. She said it would make it easier for me to face the inevitable...that one we all face at some point...and if you love someone, the one that we all are a part of. Grandma's sure can be wise....because I've been doing the exact opposite. My heart has hurt because I've avoided my grandpa....and I miss him, but I couldn't hardly face him....because he's dying before my eyes. He keeps asking her, Whose that woman? Whose your company, Grace? And Grandma said, "Honey, just come here so much that you become his company too. He'll quit asking. We just got to get you back in his memory, you're in there- he's just got to find you rattling around in there somewhere." And that's what I intend to do. I'm going to go and rattle around at Grandpa's house and make enough commotion and nuisance of myself until I bump into myself somewhere in his memories and say...."Hey! I used to know you real good!! I used to run around with you!! I haven't seen you in these part for awhile...but, I'm back....and I'm here to stay."

Arms of Love

I took prom pictures tonight of a girl who died in August.

She was the passenger of an inexperienced driver who over corrected on a country road and caused a horrible wreck. The girl was pronounced dead; life flight was cancelled. I don't know all the details, but because of the perseverence of a parademic- she was revived at the scene of the accident.

I didn't know any of this when I took this picture of her mom hugging her. I didn't realize the full extent of emotion the mom was experiencing when she teared up watching her daughter stand in the golden light of sunset in her prom dress and new shoes.

I can only imagine the experiences they have had makes every chance to create a memory, mark a milestone or share a moment all the sweeter.

There's a powerful story here that's not mine to share- but I can say this: we're all loved with an everlasting love. A true love that just smiles watching us stand in the golden light...a love that not only cherishes the sight of you now, but sees you in the fullness of who you're meant to be. Know that whether you feel it or not- whether you believe it or not- He's there with arms of love.

Just Marinate Awhile

This tree is outside the entrance to my community. It looked pretty against the sunset tonight when my 80+ year old BFF and I were going out for dinner. We stopped and soaked in the view.
She said, " Doesn't that Sunset make you glad to be alive?"
We sat in silence, taking in the view. Her words kind of stabbed my consciousness.
I was thinking about the innocent simplicity of the statement coming from someone who has lived double my life span.
Have I ever conscientiously been GLAD that I am alive? Have I ever lived in such a way that actually celebrates my very existence?
These thoughts made me feel kind of sad. Sad for the realization of life's fleetingness and vanity. Sad that I don't make time to connect to the things and people who really matter. In that moment, I realized how buried I've become under life and under bondage to things that don't make me in the least bit GLAD to be alive...I'm just barely relieved to survive.
And, I thought what a shame and injustice I've done myself.
I want to look at the sunset and be genuinely glad to be alive. I've lost myself somewhere between the fray of just existing and striving to prove my worth.
My 80+ year old friend told me I spend too much time trying to unring bells and looking for meaning in things. Apparently, kindly, she's saying I complicate uncomplicated things.
"You pour yourself out trying to find fulfillment. You need to just soak in the good stuff for awhile. "
I don't know why I'm sharing all of this, except that were all a lot more the same than we are different. Maybe, you just need to marinate in the good stuff too.

Needing Purpose

It's interesting watching my son. It's become clear that after 5 years of military life- there is very little "at ease" even during down time.

I've noticed two things during this last visit: he's very schedule conscious. He seems to time everything. The second thing I've noticed is that everything must have a purpose.

These two characteristics are a sharp contrast to my civilian lifestyle. First of all- although I'm punctual- I'm a chronic dawdler and piddler. I enjoy my own pace...my exhusband always said that I have two-speeds...Turtle I and Turtle II.

I've always considered myself pragmatic and simple. My mother in law once called me "utilitarian" and I liked it....A few years later, I spent a week with her and mentioned to her how much I loved that definition of my character and she just guffawed with laughter and said, "Oh, I had you all wrong. This is the perfect example of judging a book by its cover." (when said in her condescending tone it was meant as a backhanded compliment) Regardless, I'm pretty basic.

Anyhow, I get contemplative and introspective when observing people's behavior and interactions...especially my kids- when I see learned behavior that came from outside influences.

Gabe and Sarah are the most alike- and neither of them are sentimental nor materialistic.(not that materialistic is synonymous with being sentimental). Sarah once threw away her baby book saying she had lost all her teeth and didn't need a place to record it any longer. I was stunned.

Yes, I climbed inside the dumpster and dug through other people's garbage and found the book.

So, why is it so easy for Gabe and Sarah to toss sentimental stuff? Doesn't preserving a memory give a relatively useless item purpose? Doesn't the warm-fuzzy you get from seeing a childhood toy eventually become valuable? Are my kids missing a chromosome or something?

Gabe's idea of everything having a purpose has kind of rubbed me sore. Although I admit to being overly sentimental and prone to hoarding kid's art and macaroni necklaces- there are some things that serve a purpose just by creating the atmosphere of "home" and "belonging".

And after all this thinking and reasoning within- I realize too that Gabe and I's respective homes serve different purposes. Gabe is trained to be ready to move at any given moment. Travel light. Only pack what you can carry on your back. I get that. Even their home life is "light" because every base is a temporary station.

I came to the realization that he's abiding in his calling. So, the natural thing for me to do is turn and ask myself, "What is your calling?"

And so, all of this internal conflict may just come down to that one simple question and the enlightenment that at this point in my life---I really don't know the answer to that question.

I've always been certain of my place. Certain of my role and there were wonderful examples who I respected and could pattern myself after. I was good at fulfilling my role because the role of "Mother" took up most of life. It was easy for me to see that my children were a purpose much greater than myself. There was daily gratification being a mom. I could throw myself into it and lose myself in it and be completely 100% fulfilled as a person.

Now, I don't have that. I'm not being dramatic. I'm being honest.

So, surely I have a calling, yet discovered, that will give me that same drive, same desire to excel and surely, "it" will reciprocate by providing complete fulfillment? And, please be clear that when I say this- I'm not talking natural fulfillment. I considered raising my children a Godly endeavor- I put my soul, body and mind into the task.

I guess, all of this rambling has made me realize that deep inside, I'm more like "Sergeant Gabe" than "Civilian Mom". I too am very conscientious of time. I'm 40 years old. I have a whole life-time still ahead of me...with no marching orders..... - and I won't lie- right now, its not hard to picture myself on a shelf, with warm-fuzzies for times long gone----without any current purpose or value outside of familiarity and sentiment.

Juneau & Mendenhall Glacier

Our first city of Port was Juneau- Alaska's state capital. Did you know that Juneau is the only capital in the USA that shares a border with a neighboring country? In this case the country is Canada's Provence of British Columbia.  Another interesting fact about Juneau is that although it's part of the main land- there are no roads that connect the city to the rest of Alaska or North America due to the rugged terrain that surrounds it; All goods arrive and depart by plane or boat. Cars arrive to Juneau via the Alaska Marine Highway Ferry System — the floating roadway for Southeast Alaska. In fact, our first indication that we were approaching Juneau is the amount of float planes flying next to our ship. It was amazing watching them wobble back and forth as they made their approach to the harbor and hearing the splash as they skid across the water. It was an adventure in and of itself! 

Originally, Sitka was Alaska's capital but the decline of the whaling industry and fur trade caused the cities economic importance to diminish. In 1906 Juneau was made the capital of Alaska, the city was named after Joe Juneau who supposedly bought everyone who would vote in his name at the city council meeting a round of drinks!  (PS. I did not see Russia from anywhere in Alaska)

Our first view of Juneau from the ship was exactly what I expected. It was quaint yet stalwart. Colorfully inviting yet had an air of functionality. It was also the largest port we visited. We could not WAIT to walk down the gang-plank to this outpost capital of the North East.

I think the first thing that struck me about Juneau, that I wasn't expecting, was the beautiful plantings, flowers and landscaping. I was assuming that since its so far North and relatively cold that it would be rocks, trees and pinecones. I couldn't have been more wrong. Begonias were everywhere....even flowing off of rooftops! Whisky barrels lined the streets full of beautiful flowering bounty. Store fronts, curb fronts, small parks and window boxes were happy to boast of the climates ability to sustain annuals! I remember Juneau as being a beautiful enchanted city. Bustling business district surrounded by fog covered mountain peaks, circling bald eagles above, beautiful flowers, cobblestone sidewalks, the smell of firepit BBQ (coming from somewhere) and the desire to just SIT AND SOAK IT IN. We hardly had time to walk the town- we went to one store, bought a postcard and had to run to catch a bus. 

 I longed for more time to walk Juneau. It's a seaside city that invites you to sit, stare, soak-in the glorious EVERYTHING surrounding you.
We tried our hardest to soak it in....At one point on a bus, I told Kerri to look to the left, I'll look to the right and we'll be each other's eyes so we don't miss anything. This seems like a great plan- but on both sides, there's beauty....there's landscape that's impossible to explain, grandeur for which even naturalist John Muir couldn't express.
We boarded the bus, our chauffeur was named Robert. He pointed out Mitchell Mountain and the tram that goes to the top of the mountain. We were headed to Mendenhall Glacier. The place I'd read about, seen pictures of, watched videos....and here I was about to see it myself. Everything that day was surreal.
Our first view of Mendenhall Glacier was from Glacier Highway through the tree line and mountain peaks. I remember feeling a tingling of being overwhelmed. We were HERE. We were DOING it!

On the way to the glacier, Robert educated us on some historical factoids and pointed out areas of interest. Unfortunately, I was on sensory overload and don't remember a lot of them. One thing I do remember is him telling the story of a woman who brought rutabaga sprouts with her to Alaska. She planted the rutabaga's and the same plants are still producing over 100 years later! I bought some Rutabaga jam and have a taste of Juneau at home!

Our first sight at Mendenhall Glacier was of a porcupine that wound up on the trail to the glacier.

I lack the vocabulary to describe the beauty of Alaska- or the grandeur of Mendenhall Glacier.
It's hard to explain the connection you feel to the earth when you're surrounded by wilderness, beauty and raw, uncultured majesty of nature. It's phenomenal.

Juneau's narrow streets

....God is the Ruler Yet...

This week has brought a lot of uncertainty.
I sat at my piano about an hour ago trying to hash out life and my inner prayers through the keyboard. For me, music can speak my deepest needs and feelings through the prayer of a song much better than my heart can express in words.  It works.

So, my mind went back and forth. Praying, begging, pleading for direction. a miracle. a healing.

And, in the midst of doing that, I happened to look at the open hymnal in front of me....and the lyrics were:

This is my Father's world, O let me never forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet.

I have no control of a situation going on. None. But, God reminded me, I have influence.....I happen to know the composer of this symphony. God is the ruler.

I still don't have answers, but I have peace.

Found My Calling

Me, Kerri & Lisa
Imagine perfect 72 degree weather, no humidity and the amazing views of the Vancouver shoreline and harbor surrounding you. Imagine 800 like-minded friends surrounding you, each equally excited about the adventurous week and what it holds....imagine being on board a ship with someone you've looked up to for your entire life (Since 2nd grade)!  Imagine being in a cabin with two of your closest friends- who have shared life with you for over 15 years.  Now, close your eyes and know all of this is going on around you and men are walking up offering you free food, drinks and your feet are in a pool.

"THIS IS REAL. THIS IS REAL. THIS IS REAL." This is what I had to say to myself a zillion times over. This is HAPPENING.

My heart was enlarged (in a good, non-life threatening way) and my mind was exploding with imagination, fascination and the thrill of EVERYTHING. I couldn't look any direction without seeing something I wanted to further investigate, soak in or hear. All of my senses were on high alert and overloaded!

Heading West from Vancouver

I'm not sure how long we stayed on deck, watching our ship turn around in the bay and head west...but it was beautiful. Watching the shoreline, listening to the motors, feeling the waves, smelling the salt air and pine trees that lined the shores...saying to myself over and over....

"THIS IS REAL. THIS IS REAL. THIS IS REAL. "

We quickly settled into our cabin, decorating our room with stickers, pictures and tassels. Lisa arranged for us to have hors d'oeuvres in our room. The room had fresh flowers, balloons (celebrating Lisa's birthday) and tasseled garland blowing in the sea wind....it was better than imagined. IT WAS REAL. 

Our cabin  had a beautiful veranda with glass railing so that we had a view at all times....even from bed. We slept with our room door open every night, hearing the ocean, the chugging of the motor the sound of the wind. I wish there was a way to bottle a feeling, an experience....to uncork the moment and breath it in...once again. 

If there were a way to that...I think that first day on the deck would have been the day I'd have bottled. The emotion of friends united, adventures on the horizon and beautiful weather. The excitement of what was and what was to be...it would have to be a pretty large bottle to capture all of that! I don't think there's a cork strong enough to contain all of that. 

  

At one point, during the first day, Kerri said, "I've found my calling. I was born for this." I couldn't agree more, who isn't born for a life of relaxation, adventure and having food brought to you?! This was highly addictive behavior!!  Something I've become addicted to and have no plans of quitting!