My family and I were on vacation a couple or three weeks ago. We had saved and saved and saved money every month for more than a year so that we could rent a place at the beach (I am learning more and more what a luxury it is to actually be able to save money!). We’d packed up on Friday and Saturday (check list in hand) and had the truck loaded, bikes on the rack and were ready to head out as soon as worship was over on Sunday.
Spirits high, kids happy, sun and fun and beach ahead, we drove and sang along to the radio…very lovely!
Three hours later, spirits still high, we pulled through the gates of the beach “community,” and – filled with anticipation – got directions to the address of our place-for-the-week.
We pulled into the driveway and parked…And before we even entered, my head went “What the what, what?!?! You’re kidding me!!!”
Paint peeling, cobwebs dangling, wood on the steps just waiting to impale its splinters into my children’s, or worse my feet!
My jaw obviously clinched, and my husband patted my hand.
When we opened the door and went inside, it just got worse (Anybody remember the Deena Carter song: “Did I Shave My Legs for This?”…That’s how I felt!)!
Now…You need to know that I pride myself on being a “responsive” person (frustratingly so according to some folks who would rather I be more “reactionary”), but all thoughtful responsiveness flew out the door, and my reaction was pretty immediate and somewhat/pretty/quite negative. For a couple minutes, I refused to unpack anything…“We’re not staying here!!! Did you walk across the floor??? The wood is coming up!!! One of the kids is going to fall through!”
It was so bad, that my husband did something that I don’t remember him ever doing before…He took me into the nasty, cramped, dark kitchen and said, “You have got to get it together!”
“Well you’d better call someone, or else I will!” I said.
“I’ll call,” he said.
I stayed in there and fumed for a few moments; then hollered at the kids to get down to the truck and start hauling things up…They did.
I very reluctantly unpacked a few things and threw them (literally) into cabinets, trying to ignore the peeling shelf paper.
When I finally came out of the kitchen, Cliff and the kids were standing there with their bathing suits on.
“Come on Mom! We’re going to the beach!” I shot lasers out of my eyes straight at my husband…the kind that say, “I am not ready to not be fuming!!!”
While I got dressed, they went outside and found the bike helmets and pumped the tires up.
When found our way to the beach (which, I noted loudly, was farther away than advertised), one of the kids said, “Mom, can we get in the water!” I grunted at them, unfolded my chair, slammed it into the sand, opened my book and promptly buried my snorting nose in it.
Needless to say, before I could even start reading, two soaking wet, squealing, sand-covered kids ran up to me and said, “THIS IS AWESOME!!!!”
Perspective (haven’t I already posted a blog about that?).
I told someone the other day that I am tired of learning life-lessons…You’d think that, by the time I’m as old as I am, I’d have learned them all!
We came to know the maintenance folks for the “house” pretty well (they had to come every…that’s right EVERY day to work on the AC…eventually just putting in a window unit and bringing more fans!)…And, yes, we did get a hunk of our money refunded. But, it would have been so easy for me to miss out on love and laughter and “awesome” and blessings and grace and on and on and on.
My friend Kelly B. took on someone’s 7-day gratefulness-challenge (or something like that). Quite honestly when I hear about these “gratefulness” challenges, I always think they’re a little hokey…a little Pollyanna-ish, you know? But, maybe there’s something to it.
Perspective…Maybe a little more thankfulness…Maybe a little more focus on the presence of love and blessings and God’s kingdom even in the midst of peeling paint and worn, splintering (dare we say, “cross-shaped”) wood.
