Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

No, I’m Not Buying a House

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I think everyone totally understood my vagabond lifestyle when I was traveling as a nurse, but now that I have decided to stick around an area more permanently, people just assume I’ll put down roots in a traditional sense. I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Especially if you’re a middle-aged mom, wife, and working professional. For those reading this who are unfamiliar with my lifestyle, my family and I travel in an RV. The craziest part? We do it by choice.

When my husband, three daughters, and I were traveling across the country while I worked at different hospitals, I suppose it just made sense that we’d move place to place in our fifth wheel. It gave our children a greater sense of stability having the same bedroom wherever we went, and we had developed a “home is where you park it” kinda motto. But ever since I announced the decision to stop travel nursing and sign on as a staff (permanent) nurse at a specific hospital, I’ve gotten the same question over and over.

So, are y’all gonna buy a house now?

My answer is always the same, and though it may shock those who inquire, when I explain my reasoning, they get behind me with it. You see, I’m not buying a house. We’re going to keep living in our RV. That’s right, five people in 500 square feet, and nope, we’re not crazy.

If I’ve learned anything over the last few years, it’s that much of the life we create is out of habit rather than necessity. We choose the life we do because that’s the way it’s always been, or the way it’s supposed to be. Folks get married, get pregnant, buy a house, buy a bigger car, and subsequently buy bigger debt with their bigger “more successful” life. It’s as if happiness comes on the back of mortgages and car notes, or that contentment comes only by checking a certain box on the “I’m a grownup now” worksheet. Yet when we build a bigger, better life, it usually comes with not just a larger price tag, but also a truckload of stress. So, I guess you could say, we create our lifestyle, yet we also create our stress. Or much of it, anyway.

From our personal experience, we found the bigger lifestyle (as far as square footage and belongings go) created a bigger sense of urgency. I had more dusting and laundry. My husband had more yard work and “honey do” lists. We both certainly worked more. For us, it just seemed like the lifestyle that society had always told us would make us happy only made us more rushed and busy. Traveling in an RV wasn’t just a convenience for work, but rather a decision for future happiness. And boy, did it exceed our expectations.

We found that we could live happily in 1/4 the space we had become accustomed to in our prior, traditional lifestyle (let’s call it living in a sticks and bricks). Turns out we didn’t need even half of the stuff we sold or gave away when we downsized. It’s actually not just a way to cut down on material possessions and re-evaluate what’s important in life, but it’s also a great way to payoff debt! Cause debt is crippling, am I right?! When I tell people my monthly living expenses (in a popular and large metropolitan area) are $200 a month (yep, that includes my utilities), they’re usually like, “yeah, I think I’d stay in the RV too!”

The fact is, a happy life isn’t built on two stories and a white picket fence. It’s built around the ones you love. It’s not held together by how much you have, or even how it looks to those on the outside, but rather by the ties that bind you. For us, that’s time together, less time working, and more time enjoying ourselves. It’s less time running here and there, and more time simply enjoying life. It’s less stress and more smiles.

So, while our circumstances have changed, our priorities have not. We don’t stay in the RV for necessity with traveling, but simply because it’s worked so far. Why change anything? Will we buy a house in the future? Perhaps. But it will be small. This tiny life fits us just fine, and I’ll tell you a secret. Going small has given us big happiness.

Btw, this was our Christmas card one year

Investing in the Future

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Today I was going through an app that allows me to see pictures I posted on social media from the time I had a smartphone, and as I was swiping left I came across a cherished photo. It was a black and white shot of my firstborn from six years ago, and I felt a bittersweet ache in my heart that got stuck as an emotional lump in my throat. As I gazed at the precious memory my eldest girl walked up.

Y’all, my child has gotten so tall, and when I saw her standing over my lounge chair poolside, in contrast to the tiny, chubby-cheeked babe on my phone, I was struck straight through the heart, as if an arrow representing the swift passage of time had pierced through to my marrow.

The most peculiar part, to me, was that I didn’t remain melancholy over how fast it all goes. Instead I felt a sense of contented joy, like everything was progressing as it should. I had zero regret for the things I should of/could of done, and though I wasn’t claiming a perfect parenting plan, I was pleased with our journey thus far. I didn’t feel so much like it was a cruel, fleeting season, but rather one I was savoring with vigor.

When I first became I mother I realized it was my greatest responsibility and most enjoyable tasking of life. I quickly discovered I wanted nothing more than to leave my nine to five and find a way to mother more. I was blessed at the time to find a position at my hospital where I could work less and be home more with little financial difference. Cause, come on, although a lot of men and/or women desire to see their children more, it doesn’t seem like it can always work out that way. I never took for granted the opportunity I had been afforded to spend time with my children while also working as a bedside nurse.

As life changed and seasons followed suit, I found circumstances altered, but my greatest goal never changed. Here’s what I didn’t want. I didn’t want other people raising my babies. They were my reward, and I didn’t want to hand that prize to another. But more than that, they were my legacy, my responsibility (which I took very seriously), and the ministry God had given me for this particular time of my life. I knew that my largest and most monumental heart desire was to be able to instill in my children the things I had been unaware of until adulthood. I wanted to raise them wholly aware of God’s hand in their life, and I desired to equip them with the wisdom of knowing they were not alone in the battles they faced. I needed them to see firsthand how joy-filled a life serving the Lord could be. I wanted them to have the opportunity to see things it had taken me forty years to discover.

This hefty, utmost knowledge I knew couldn’t be passed along in a thirty minute Sunday School lesson. It was something that must be instilled, but also modeled. It was something I had to walk out, showing them daily, and I wanted to be able to do it. As parents, my husband and I have made sacrifices to maintain our goals. We have downsized and let go of materialistic treasures, in favor of investing in what we consider our Heavenly Treasure. Our babies. To gain time with them we had to let go of the things that stole our time from them. I’m grateful we were given the desire and insight to make this work.

Not that I’ve obtained it yet, like, where I totally want to be, but I can look backwards and see improvement over time. Heck, a mere two-three years ago I was stuck in the hamster wheel too. I was running ragged, overbooking my schedule, over-extending myself, and sadly teaching my children that was normal. We were always going, rushing, and trying to fill commitments that weren’t necessary. Laundry was a chore, grocery shopping grueling, and the supper-time crunch exasperating. Why we call this normal, I’ll never know. I guess because it’s the way it’s always been, but with the addition of everyone critiquing our lives as we narrate them, or coveting how smoothly someone else’s story appears.

Thankfully, I can now proceed without regret, knowing I’m investing the most in what matters most. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on my children’s childhood. I have a ringside seat to their life. We homeschool largely in part because of our desire to not miss the majority of their life. I saw a story recently of schools possibly extending their hours. Can you imagine?!

We found an area of the country where we can work less but make a larger income, and on top of that we found a way to cut down our expenses. It was scary leaving our comfort zones, but totally worth it in the end. As the world gets faster and the focus convoluted, I see more people choosing to do things the way we are doing. Downsizing, minimalizing, and seeking opportunities to focus on family more. I’m thankful we realized it’s okay to step outside of the norm and pursue something different. Almost every day I see people voice their unhappiness with the pace of their life or with the lack of quality time with loved ones.

I guess I would just say to every discontented parent, “you can do it!” If you’re not happy with life, change it. Don’t be afraid to try something new. Don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Don’t be worried about what other people think, and don’t be scared to fail. You will never know if your life can improve if you stay stuck in your rut. Break out.

Maybe you’re happy with the way things are. That’s wonderful! But if you’re not consider this post your call to duty. It’s time to invest in what’s important in life, and it’s the people you love. I took care of a patient once who was on his death bed. In pleasant conversation I had told his wife about my life, how I traveled in an RV with my family, homeschooling, working a little, and having fun a lot. She was intrigued and enamored, as most people are, but I’ll never forget her words.

“I wish we had done that.”

You see, they had wanted to travel as a family, but they had waited. They waited until things settled down. They waited until a certain season passed. They waited until Junior finished school. Then they waited until retirement. One month into traveling her husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

“It’s too late now,” she had said.

Consider this your wake up call, your sign, if you will. Don’t wait another minute to follow your dreams and spend time doing what you love. You just think there’s no way out, but there’s always another way. It may involve sacrifice, and it might be frightening. People may try and talk you out of it, but I am encouraging you to try anyway. You will never know unless you take that step, and you’ll only regret what you didn’t do.

How to Find Your Happy

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I could probably gripe about a lot of things that annoy me when working as a nurse, but if I had to pinpoint my biggest frustration it would probably be computer problems. Like, ugh. Since when do I have to be an IT Specialist?!

I’ve been charting electronically for eighteen years or so, and in all that time I’ve discovered the number one fix when having computer trouble.

You call the Help Desk (appropriately named), and you plead, “help me! My screen is frozen!”

I mean, you just wanna finish charting. You have sooooo much to do and so little time.

Usually the IT person will fire back with, “have you restarted your computer?”

“I need you to turn it off, give it about fifteen seconds, then turn it back on.”

Reboot. Unplug. Reminds me of calling Comcast Cable. Am I right?!

The IT guy will take control of my mouse and locate some screen I didn’t know existed where he’ll “end” the running programs. Heck, I’ve had instances where I had a handful of programs running at once and didn’t even realize it.

A couple of years ago I realized I wasn’t as happy as I knew I should/could be. I mean, I was happy for my family, time with my husband and kids, our home, and the nuggets of great moments mingled here and there, but something wasn’t right. I loved my life, but it’s like the program wasn’t running like it should. I was frozen by anxiety, stalled by worry, and run down with fatigue. It turns out I had too many tabs open on my dashboard, and I was running more programs than my server could handle. I wasn’t operating at full speed, and I seriously needed to delete some cookies, but not being very techy, I didn’t have a clue.

Remember that movie “How Stella Got Her Groove Back?” Well, I guess I could have titled this post appropriately as, “How Brie Got Her Happy Back.”

Remember how the Help Desk always tells you to turn off your computer, or to end your multiple programs? Well, when I cried out for help in life, God came back that I had too many tabs open. It was overwhelming. I wasn’t running at my full potential of joy because I was running too many irrelevant programs. I had to delete some cookies. Empty the trash.

I started with unplugging. I stopped running and got real quiet. Once I turned off my anxious mind and sought the Lord for what was important in life, I was able to hear His direction. I had to close some tabs. I had to evaluate what I could close out, and what I needed to keep open.

I decluttered not just my mind, but also my life. I stopped activities that weren’t building up my relationship with my family. That direct sales business that was consuming me? I let it go. All the clothes I had to wash? I gave them away. All the trinkets I had to dust? I sold them. The big house I couldn’t keep clean? I let it go. The busy tasks that I thought I needed to do to be a “good mom?” I stopped. The comparisons of myself to other women? I turned my eyes from others, and instead I sought the Lord.

“What do you want for my family, God?”

All the things I had thought were important, I realized they were not so much.

I asked myself, “is this ________ leading my children closer to the Lord? Is is glorifying Jesus? Is it building my witness? Is it built in love, and does it display God’s love to others?”

If the answer was “no,” then I re-evaluated if that was a tab I needed to keep open, or if it was bogging down my productivity.

If it was keeping me busy, but not making me fulfilled, I let it go. Y’all, you’ve never seen such a decluttering. Not only did I sell or give away furniture I had accumulated over a twenty year period, but I also trashed false ideas the enemy had planted in my mind over several decades. I let go of fear over things I couldn’t change, and I got rid of material possessions that took up my time and money. We re-evaluated how much we worked. If we downsized our life, couldn’t we also downsize our work week? The answer was yes. If we got a smaller home and less cars, couldn’t we gain more time together? Absolutely. If we dumped our full schedule and let go of our preconceived notions of how our life should look, we found a hidden treasure.

It was our happiness. Peace in simplicity. A feeling of fulfillment in simple pleasures. A healthy operating system that ran more smoothly with less windows open. The to-do list got chiseled down, and the moments of quiet increased. The problem is, we live in a society that celebrates busy! The fuller your plate, the more successful you must be. But we debunked that myth. We live in a world that says more is better, and then we wonder why our days at work drag like a slow internet connection, or our off days disappear like a hastily deleted file. I’ll tell you a secret. More isn’t better; it’s only overwhelming your system.

Running from one thing to another is typically something people brag about, but then they wonder why everyone in the family falls apart prior to bedtime. Wives and husbands are craving a date night because their schedules are too full for everyday moments together. Families are on countdown for vacation so they can escape the hectic pace of their life. Why is it this way?

When our systems break down either physically, emotionally, or mentally, we cry out to God, “why?!”

And He’s just shaking His head, “I told you to be still.”

Perhaps the cure for anxiety is letting go. Maybe the solution to financial worry is getting rid of the root of the problem. I’m saying that I think the secret to finding your happy is in the action of taking your eyes off the things that cause you stress. Everyone laments about their stressful life and full schedule, but how many are actually finding a solution? If you’ve got too many files open, close them out! If you’re holding on to problems you cannot change, people who cause you pain, and past hurts, then it’s time to delete the cookies. Empty the trash. Unplug. Give your system a break, and when you restart, I’d consider removing all the dangerous files.

I had to get to a point in life where I said, “is this impacting my eternity or my children’s salvation?”

No? Then I’m letting it go.

I asked, “does this have a kingdom impact? Is it glorifying God?”

No? Bye-bye.

And finally, “is it done it love?”

If it’s not done in love or showing His love, then I’m not really about it. I can be happy at my job, because I’m showing His love. I can be happy with less stuff, because I have all I need. Love. I can do less activities that keep me busy, and spend more time loving my family. For my husband and me, every day together is like a date night. When thoughts come to my mind that cause me anxiety or depression I’m immediately questioning, “but is this love.” God doesn’t give me thoughts that aren’t centered or from a place of His love for me. Even His conviction is from His love, but fear never is. When I clear my mind of the outside noise, I can more easily clear it of the inside noise. Interesting how that works.

So, how do you find your happy? By looking for it! It’s just not found where you think. It’s not found in a bigger house and fatter bank account. It’s not found in pay raises and job promotions. It’s not even found in a trip to The Happiest Place on Earth (sorry Mickey fans). Are you ready for it? Your happy is found right where you are. It’s right here. It’s directly in front of you and in your grasp. You just can’t see it for all the distractions. You’re running too many tabs all at once and holding on to files you should have gotten rid of long ago. If you’re crying out to the Help Desk, I can tell you already, they’re gonna ask if you’ve turned it off.

Restart. Reboot. End Program. Because you can only run on so much before you crash.

When Everyone Thinks You Will Fail

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“I’m gonna be honest,” he said. “I thought this was a really bad idea when you first brought it up.”

I wasn’t surprised. A lot of people had felt that way. People I loved, people whose opinion I valued. People who had a huge impact on my life, and people I desired to please. These were the people who had thought we were making a mistake, but I guess when God is leading you to something different, you have no choice but to go with it. You just hope they’ll come around.

Almost two years later, the majority of our family and friends had. They were truly happy for us as we led an unconventional life that went against the grain of everything that society told us was normal. They saw it in our eyes, our smiles, our very countenance. They saw how joyous we were after letting go of all the things that were supposed to make us happy in this world.

I know onlookers had stood agasp as we emptied our two story home of all its contents, sold our possessions for less than half of their worth, and locked the doors, turning our backs on what had once been considered our dream home. As I walked through it yesterday, footsteps echoing across the empty floor and radiating down the bare hall, I felt nothing. Once upon a time it had been bittersweet to say goodbye to our house, but that was before I truly discovered what made a home. I had only left the large house looming in my rear view because I knew God had something else in store. But yesterday, I didn’t look back as we pulled out of the long, shaded drive. I just left it behind.

Sometimes what lies ahead of you is far better than you could ever fathom. I’m glad we had believed that when the rest of the world looked at us like we were crazy.

I can still remember what it was like. I was happy. I was. But I was also tired. I was stressed out, sometimes depressed for no particular reason at all. I missed my husband, and I longed for him to really smile again. Something happens when you build a family, when you grow up. You enter into a place of anxiety and dread mixed with tiny moments of wonderful. You spend 75% of your life working to achieve that 25% of happy. You assume, “this is just the way it is,” as if working long hours, running errands on two wheels, drowning in debt, and burning the midnight oil is a part of the life you have built. Long hours at the table hammering Singapore Math equations into your eight year old. Was it like this for our parents?

Why can’t there be more of the happy? Is a quarter of joy really all you can get? You assume so.

We rush, we bustle about. We run here and there. We work, work, work. Birthday parties get bigger, Easter becomes like Christmas. The closets overflow. Time for another purge! If we pull a few more overtime shifts we can take vacation in June.

Sunday is an afterthought. Church is a place where you’re supposed to go. Gotta train up the kids right! God don’t mind if you miss for football, though. Hard to get any good news in your spirit since Sunday School is the only place you can find time for your Bible. But Monday is creeping up on you, the weekend is over, and back to the grind we go.

Gotta get new shoes, a brand that won’t cause your kid to get bullied, a style that will make them the envy of the other kids, the ones that will make you look like a good mom for buying them.

People thought we were crazy when we said, “let’s just get rid of it all!”

They thought we just meant the minivan with automatic doors and the ruffle dresses. They didn’t realize we meant the multiple car payments and dreaded mound of never-ending laundry too. They thought we were just selling the house. They never knew we were also refunding the false idea that a large living room made life good. We found out the whole world could be our backyard!

When we said we were going to travel the country in an RV, folks thought we were chasing a pipe dream, like the idea of it was more magical than the reality would entail. Some people even thought we would fail.

I get it! It’s hard to leave your comfort zone. It’s not easy to leave the way you’ve always known and embark on a future without answers. We took off with a tow vehicle we couldn’t yet afford, to pull a fifth wheel we didn’t yet own, to work a job that gave no promises of stability. We reserved a hotel we couldn’t keep paying for long term, and we carted everything we owned in suitcases and a handful of rubber-made totes. Gosh, we were a little crazy. But we were tired. So very tired.

You grow up thinking you need to obtain that Great American Dream, but when you finally do, you wonder where the joy went. It’s fragmented, kind of like your time, broken apart and unfairly divided amongst your many, overflowing responsibilities. We fall right into Satan’s plan, in student loan debt, working over in a job we hate, for a family we never see, and a vacation that will leave us exhausted. Well, dang.

My husband let another driver go first the other day. My spouse had the right of way. The other driver was very confused by my husband’s kindness and patience, and it took him a moment to pull forward and drive off. People are numb to the fast pace. They’ve become accustomed to road rage, anger management, horns honking, driving ten miles above the speed limit, and passing someone to gain a precious microsecond. That’s the way of the world. Everyone is in a hurry. But we decided we wanted to teach our children that servants don’t have a problem going last.

So, we let go of the ideas that more is better or that things like public opinion matter one iota when it comes to eternity and love. We live in 500 square feet, tiny compared to our previous floor plan, but man oh man, how our hearts have grown. For one another and others. We work less, play more. Our closets aren’t as full, but it wasn’t just designer jeans and boots we threw in plastic bags to give away; we got rid of the stress. We let go of worry, and instead we held tight to time together. We homeschool, we roadschool, we unschool the ideas of the world. We teach kindness, patience, even a little washing feet.

I think some of our friends and family worried how we would handle traveling somewhere new, holding a new job, living in new neighborhoods, away from the comfort of routine, the way things had always been. But I reckon sometimes you have to shake loose the dust of comfortable when it makes you complacent to living the life God has in mind for us all. He wants us focused on loving one another, taking the time to savor a sunset, throwing our hands up in surrender, saying, “your will, not mine.”

I guess that’s what we really did when we sold our stuff, packed up our family, and took off to travel in an RV. We just threw up our hands. We let go of what the world had said would make us happy. All of that was too stressful, too hard to maintain, too silly to sacrifice for mere scraps of happy. Why do we assume life must be a roller coaster? When do we admit all the dips and jerks are of our own design? We realized God didn’t have stress, struggling, and striving for us. He had thriving, not just surviving. He just wanted our love. The rest He would give us as needed, and I have to say that’s the best thing I’ve learned this past year. I don’t have to struggle for happy. He just gives. So I just need to receive.

People thought we were crazy, they thought we would fail, but we found that the really crazy part is how we used to live, tired and worn thin, hoping for a sliver of time together. We always felt we were failing at carving out a chunk of joy amidst all the chaos, but we realize now we only failed because we tried too hard at too much of nothing.

Maybe this all sounds like the musings of a crazy woman, but I’ve never felt more sane. We value time over treasure, we hold more highly the love we can bestow than the gifts we can get. What I mean is this. We just love Jesus and live life. We trust Him, we spend more time together than we spend money. We let go of fear and grabbed tightly to trust. We did this by selling all our stuff and moving into an RV, but I figure God can change hearts any which way He designs. For us, it took a drastic change to shift our mindset to what’s important in life, but maybe for someone else He can do it another way.

All I know is that most folks don’t think we’re crazy anymore. They think we’re onto something good. They see the experiences our children are having, seeing sights they never would before, meeting new people, and watching mom and dad trust the Lord for it all. They don’t think we’ll fall down or fail anymore. They realize that we’re actually living the dream. The legit dream. And it’s nothing like society has esteemed it to be. Nothing at all.

There’s More to Life Than Just Being the Cool Kid

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Last night I lay in bed watching Netflix with my husband. While we watched a favorite show I glanced through the pictures I had taken that day. I especially loved one of my two youngest daughters looking out over a natural spring in Central Florida. We had all watched with glee as a trio of otters dipped and ducked through a bed of lily pads. I showed the photo to my spouse.

He commented, “you know, I’ve never seen otters in the wild before. And I’m forty-one. The girls got to see that today. That’s awesome.”

I agreed. A year ago this week we had made a monumental decision to travel the country together with our children. And in that, already our young daughters had seen things we had not even known existed at their age. Yet it was more than swimming otters and multiple coast-lines.

Last week my husband had met a new friend. It was a guy about his age, and they spoke for some time, having multiple things in common. And I’m not even counting the fact that this man and his family had decided to focus on the finer things in life like we had done.

After they had met that day, and as my husband shared some of their conversation, he spoke, “the guy said something that made me think of you. He mentioned how the things he once thought were important, turns out, they’re not.”

I chuckled. Yes.

I can look back at my life and I see a lot of wasted time.

I remember when my mom and I first moved onto the land my new stepdad owned. One day in particular I got to meet my cousins on his side of the family. I acted like an absolute nut. My mother had mentioned it to me later, after they left, and even at age eight I realized she was right in her assessment. The entire time I had been screaming, “look at me! Watch this! Watch me!”

I had just wanted them to like me.

I remember the first day of third grade at a new school I had told the little blond girl I met on the teeter totter that I had epilepsy. I had wanted her to feel sorry for me. I had wanted her to see I was different. Beat me, bore me; just don’t ignore me. I had shared something that set me apart from the other children because I wanted to be seen, to be noticed.

They noticed me, all right. It didn’t pan out like I hoped.

I entered elementary school as the sick kid, the different kid, the kid with a weird accent.

I went through junior high school as the kid who wanted to be the cool kid. I scoured my YM magazine for inspiration. I wanted to dress cool, say the right thing.

I wanted to fit in.

In high school I sought out the pretty girls, the athletic guys, the popular kids, the cool clubs. They seemed so happy, like they had it all.

I wanted to find that place. I wanted to find my place.

I thought maybe I found it in college.

I mean, there were so many other people like me. Young people searching to find their fit.

Searching for acceptance.

Searching for love.

Searching to stand out.

Searching to make a name for themselves.

It was even kinda cool to be different, to be weird. Yet still…

I couldn’t really find my place. So uncool.

Ever since I began homeschooling my first daughter I received flack from my peers. Even people who had never laid eyes on my children had something to say.

Coworkers questioned my children’s socialization, even proclaiming things like, “oh my God, please don’t do that to your kid. Don’t make her one of those weird homeschool kids!”

I’ve seen the same pushback when we decided to travel.

“What about their friends?!”

Cause, you know, my three year old is the president of the nursery. Her peers elected her most likely to potty train first.

I saw other moms question our lifestyle.

“I could never do that! I’d be afraid my children wouldn’t know how to act in social situations!”

“What about school?”

“Aren’t you worried how they’ll act when they get to college?”

Ahhh, college. I remember it well. It was the place where I almost lost myself searching for who I needed to be. It was a place where a public school kid went wild, still searching for my fit. I wasn’t even a “weird homeschool kid,” and I still didn’t know how to proceed in life. I grew up, no fault to my parents, always thinking that was the goal. The goal was to fit in, to find my niche, to succeed, be a cool kid. Maybe I was a product of too many John Hughes’s films. I chased popularity, fitting in, and finding favor with man for far too many years. I was highly socialized, but into the wrong society. I was socialized into the world. We were never meant to try and fit into that.

My daughters are afforded every opportunity in life to “socialize” with others, but they also know there’s more to life than being the cool kid.

They understand it’s not about the clothes you wear, or brand names. It’s about carrying yourself like a Child of the King, robed in righteousness.

They understand it’s not about fitting in; it’s about helping others feel like they fit.

It’s not about being the best; it’s about being kind.

It’s not about chasing love. It’s about knowing they are highly loved and favored already by the One who formed them in my womb.

It’s not about trying to fit in and find their place in this world. Because they understand this world is but a vapor. Their goal is to love people while they’re here, enjoy the gifts they’re given in life, and be thankful for each day.

It’s not about being popular. It’s about being a good friend.

It’s not about being a winner. It’s about being a servant.

It’s not about having a big house. It’s about having a big heart.

It’s not about their last name. It’s about being a good example.

It’s not about how much money we have. It’s about how much we share.

It’s not about the best school and best grades. It’s about the life lessons we learn and how that shapes us to be better people.

My daughters don’t make friends based on appearance or reputation. They make friends based on The Father Heart of God. They’re not perfect kids! They can be mean little brats! But they’re learning. They’re learning that there’s more to life than being a cool kid. It’s all about being the kind kid.

They make friends regardless of color, religion, or if their playmate has two dads instead of parents of the opposite sex. They “socialize” with others regardless of the clothes they wear, where they live, or what their parents do for a living. They aren’t manipulated into believing they belong to a certain group. They know we’re all God’s kids; even if we don’t know it. And that means everyone is cool.

My hope for my daughters is that they won’t waste time trying to find their place or fit in. They’ll understand that God made them unique, but places them exactly where He needs them to be. They don’t have to run to find their niche. They’re in His hands already.

My hope is that they won’t chase the things of this world, the things that fade, rust, wear-out, and fail them. Instead they’ll rest in an eternal mindset.

Yesterday my eldest daughter and I talked about sand castles as we built an elaborate sand city. I told her that life here on earth was like building sand castles. You knew that one day the rain, wind, or a wayward person would knock down your castle. But that knowledge didn’t stop you from building them. It didn’t make you want to stop building sand castles. Instead, you simply enjoyed your time building your castles. That’s what we’re here for. We’re here to enjoy the sand God gives us to build with. We can’t take it with us, but we can take along the friends we make building castles together.

So shouldn’t we offer to make castles with everyone? Shouldn’t we love building castles, sharing our castles, and making the most of the construction? There’s more to life than being the cool kid. There’s more to life than building the biggest, best castle. Build to the best of your ability! But don’t build just for those watching you. Don’t just build to seek gratification from those around you. Don’t just build to make a name for yourself. Instead, build for the guy alone in the corner who hasn’t figured this castle thing out yet. Build a bridge so he can come to your kingdom, meet your king. Even the coolest castles get taken out to sea when the tide comes in. So don’t worry about your castle’s outside. It’s what’s inside that matters most.

A Valentine’s Day to Remember

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I can remember when I was in junior high school that Valentine’s Day was a huge day. The coolest girls received deliveries to the school office. Big bundles of flowers, heart boxes full of candy, and teddy bears with a red bow. I longed for one of those deliveries, but I never got it. I even had to wait a few years before a boy exchanged a gift with me at all. I can’t recall what it was, though. I don’t even remember when I received my first bouquet of a dozen red roses. I suppose the gifts that fade into your past weren’t really that memorable to begin with. For something that seemed so important at the time, the weight of it doesn’t even leave a ripple in the waters of my mind.

I mean, I can’t even recall what my Valentine’s Day card from my husband last year said, and I know I thought the sentiment was especially sweet. I guess that’s why I had always kept the cards he gave me, so I could look back and remind myself what was printed on the card stock. But things are different now. I don’t have a treasure box, hope chest, or storage space with which to pack away my memories. I mean, when was the last time I had read one of those cards anyway? Sometimes you realize you have to let the stuff that disintegrates go in favor of the things that don’t.

And indeed, we had gotten rid of boxes and rooms full of stuff. We had sold and given away a whole two story house packed of objects that you could hold and see so that we could increase the items you couldn’t see, like time together and unconditional love. A year ago we gave up all the stuff so we could travel the country together as a family. We had a small home in the form of an RV, but it certainly wasn’t going to hold years full of cards or a collection of teddy bears and puppies holding hearts. Hence, how Valentine’s Day went this year.

With a new minimalist lifestyle in mind, I had suggested to my spouse how best we might exchange Valentine’s this year. Of course, he found it brilliant. And it’s certainly not one I shall soon forget.

You see, for starters my husband was the best gift I’d ever been given. God had that man designed to be the perfect partner for me, and we had looked back in awe at how the world tried to destroy us, yet God had brought us through it all for His plans to prevail. Even when decades of time and thousands of miles worked to keep us apart, in the end God brought us back together. He knew that Ben was the man I needed to be able to grow closer to the Lord and impact the world with God’s love.

Then there was the fact that my husband gave me good gifts every day. He gave me his heart, his time, his sacrifices, his words of encouragement, his uplifting compliments, and his attention and affection. I watched the world around me, and I saw people who needed time away from their spouse who got on their nerves. They needed tons of girlfriends to confide in about how their husband didn’t understand their needs. They spoke about how hard marriage was, and I just couldn’t for the life of me relate. I had never thought it was hard, not even mildly difficult. It was so easy to be loved by him, and to reciprocate that love. That was the greatest gift.

Every day, the way he looked at me. The look that said, “you are my person. You’re the one that makes life perfect. I can’t imagine anything better than this right here, looking at you.” That look got me every time. It was how I never grew tired of cuddling with him, or how I never tired of hearing, “I love you so much.” I wanted to spend every moment of every day in his presence, and if I could make a day longer than twenty-four hours, I’d spend the extra minutes at his side. It was easy sharing life with him. And I didn’t need a card to tell me he felt the same. But cards are fun, right?

So this year, with the fact that we hauled all our possession around the United States, we thought it would be fun to go to the card aisle and find the Valentine’s that expressed our feelings for each other best, exchange them there, and then put them back! It was perfect! He picked out the absolute best card, and he loved mine too. I probably won’t be able to recite tomorrow what it said, though. And neither will he. Yet we won’t need to. Each day we live out a life together that represents what those Valentine’s stated. Each day we express our affection to one another, and that’s the sort of thing you don’t forget.

Why We Ran Away

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I saw a painting recently titled The Flight into Egypt, and it depicted the spirited journey of Joseph, Mary, and a baby Jesus to Egypt. After being warned by an angel to take his family and run away to Egypt, Joseph went! He did it to save Jesus from being killed by King Herod. It made me think of my own recent flight.

I remember being hurt when a well-meaning family member questioned were we running away. We had just dropped the bombshell to our friends and family that we planned to sell our possessions and hit the open road in an RV. I got it, in a way. I mean, it was totally out of left field. Cause isn’t something usually seen that way when God speaks a major shift?

My husband’s business had gone bankrupt, so I’m sure a lot of people thought we were running from failure, but that wasn’t even it. He couldn’t save the sinking ship of his business that started going under way before God told us to go, but I guess the final nail in the coffin, when he had to shut the doors, did push us to follow God’s plan.

We weren’t running from a failed business, we weren’t running from responsibility. We weren’t even running from the fact that we had just lost an income, but still had bills coming in. No, our flight was for freedom, and much like Joseph, we too worried about the things that were trying to harm our children. We felt like God had told us to go, to go and save our family. Were we running away? Maybe. But we were not running from obligation. We were running out of the status quo.

We felt almost smothered by the ideas that said success came packaged a certain way. This majority ideal said happiness came wrapped in a fat bank account and big house. It toted the importance of a shiny, new SUV, perfectly manicured lawns, and matching outfits on Sunday morning. This world said more was better. More work, more stuff, and subsequently, more debt. Most folks worked overtime just to save up for that Disney trip, the one that would leave them exhausted and needing another vacation. Along with the thirst for more came the yearning for more success, more promotions, more pay! It was followed by full pocketbooks, overflowing schedules, packed to-do lists, but often empty sails. All the rushing, striving, and falling short left you feeling tired, angry, and behind. It was never enough. And I think that was the biggest problem for me. I never felt like I was enough. You work your whole life to reach a certain level in life, and for what? You end up old, looking back at your life, and you realize you focused on all the wrong stuff. I didn’t want that regret!

We wanted to raise our own children, to see each other more. We wanted to parent together, to live life together, not just trudge through it worn out and dissatisfied. We wanted to slow down, smell the roses, enjoy our children, and grab ahold of time before it slipped away. Because in the end a life well-lived meant loving those around you, not all that other stuff that would rust and fade.

We were running for our family. We were running for freedom from materialism. We were running out of the box. We were fleeing to Egypt, because the way the world was headed, we knew it meant our children harm. We weren’t trying to shelter them from the real world, but rather wanted to show them what was really real! It wasn’t name brands or even making a name for themselves. It was about loving Jesus and showing His love to others. Sometimes you can be distracted from that by all the noise of a busy life. We had to flee distraction.

We’re not perfect. We still mess up life. But we don’t sit still in a boiling pot either. We opened our eyes to what God was telling us was important, and that looks different for everyone! I’m not saying you have to sell everything and hit the open road like we did. That’s what God called us to do. But I am saying that sometimes we all need a Flight into Egypt. We all need to listen to the Lord and ask Him to show you the things that may be a danger to your family. At that point you’ll have to run, you’ll have to flee from those things so you can focus on His best for your family. Running away isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it’s exactly what you need.

When Strangers Question Our Decision to Homeschool

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Working as a travel nurse I am afforded the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, all across the country, who have differing opinions on life than I do. Most folks are eager to converse, ask questions, and offer advice as I talk about my family. Since I travel with my husband and three daughters in an RV to different hospital assignments most people are intrigued by our roaming lifestyle. I’ve had many varied reactions to how we’ve chosen to live as a family, and most of them have been positive. In fact, most people proclaim how fun and adventurous it sounds, or how they wish they could do such a thing.

Living the dream.

Of course, as the conversation goes along most people ask pretty quickly what the children do about school. We were a homeschooling family for years before we became a traveling family so I’m very confident in my decision to homeschool. I’m just not quite so used to discussing that decision with so many strangers. Before we began traveling no one really came out and asked, “how do you educate your children.” But now that’s one of the first questions I get.

Again, most people are pretty positive about it, or appear to be. Homeschooling has become more commonplace over the years, so people aren’t shocked anymore. Some even say something like, “yeah, my niece homeschools.” But there’s always that one, strong-opinionated individual who feels compelled to offer their personal opinion on how I should educate my own children. And I get that everyone is entitled to their opinion. I just may not be turning cartwheels to hear it when it talks condescendingly about something I am so passionate to pursue. Make sense? It’s like, why not just keep that to yourself?

I’ve heard a plethora of uneducated (on the issue of homeschooling) and stereotypical opinions about homeschooling, but here’s the most recent one I got from a patient’s family member who I had met all of five minutes.

“That’s great, just make sure you enroll them in real school by the time they’re teenagers. My kids went to college with homeschooled kids, and they had no idea how to act in the real world. Don’t do that to your kids. Let them learn how to socialize.” She instructed me with a knowing look.

Y’all, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t say anything. I was just too dumbfounded to respond. Had I been able to pick up my jaw from the floor I might have answered something like this.

We don’t keep them locked up in a dungeon.

They’re not in an RV commune, sitting in the dirt, in their sack dresses, begging Paw if we can go to the picture show this weekend.

We don’t keep them trapped in their room, on their knees, praying for forgiveness, and hoping we’ll let them out in public today.

They play with other children. They also interact with a multitude of adults. They’re allowed to experience different areas of the country, different cultures, different people, and how to interact intelligently, politely, and lovingly with all types of people. It’s socialization at its best. We just happen to be present to help raise, guide, and mentor them through these differing situations rather than throwing them to the wolves with the hopes they’ll figure it out.

They go to church, Sunday School, playgrounds, community events, parties, and all kinds of activities. I would almost venture to say they have more of an opportunity to socialize than most young children their age. Instead of being trapped in the same environment, with the same people, same views, and even same closed-mindedness, they are given the awesome opportunity to learn and grow from the experiences of people from all over. Talk about socialization!

What they aren’t chained into believing is that there’s only one way to think in life, that there’s only one way to live life, that there’s no room for growth, adventure, or the opportunity to chase their dreams. Their opinions aren’t molded into conformity by the masses or their minds made up for them based on what’s socially acceptable in their small sampling of the world. They don’t think something is “cool” because that’s what their small circle of friends believe. They aren’t forced to follow the crowd, fit into a clique, or conform to a box. They are allowed independent thought based on the varying opinions they are allowed to glean from.

When they go to college (if they choose to go, because I won’t push a certain path upon them) they will not be lost. They will not be lost because we will have trained them up in the way they should go. They will be like straight and sure arrows, on target, led by the Lord as we have taught them. Or so I hope. But even if they falter and fall, I will not fret, for they belonged to the Lord before they did me, and they’ll belong to Him always. He just gives me the chance to raise them here on earth for Him until eternity comes. And in that regard we prayerfully and purposefully have chosen the educational path for our children that is homeschooling.

In the path we have chosen we don’t focus on what career you’ll have when you grow up, but rather what kind of person you’re going to be. We don’t focus of building winners, but rather creating children who are okay if they lose, children who can be servants, not just want to be the master of their own little universe.

We have certain morals and ideals that we are led to cultivate into the next generation. We’re not just raising doctors, lawyers, or Wall street executives. We’re raising kind kids who will show the light of Jesus in a lost and dying world. This is our focus.

We’re not so worried if they’ll be the most popular, captain of the team, or president of the class. We’re not just building a transcript; we’re building character. But since you’re so concerned if they’ll be that weird kid, the answer is “yeah, they probably will be.”

They’ll be the weird ones who help the hurting, befriend the outcast, and take second place to let someone else be first. They’ll be the weird ones following their moral compass rather than the crowd, or so I pray. But even if they falter or make mistakes (because they will; they’re human after all), they will know God’s grace. They’ll know it extends greater than grades, just as his mercy overshadows money-making any day.

Today as we were getting in the truck to leave an elderly woman in our current RV Park ran over.

“Can I say goodbye to the girls? We’re leaving today?” She explained breathlessly.

She proceeded to hug my daughters and explain how much fun she had watching them play. She added to me that they were so kind and polite, a true joy to be around, and that she would miss them! It touched my heart and made me realize that we’re doing okay at this crazy-hard thing called parenting. We’ll keep doing it the best we can, as God leads, and despite the well-intentioned opinion of strangers concerned for our educational methods. I believe we’re doing just fine over here.

How to Get Rich

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No oven. Not just a tiny oven, mind you, but no oven. It’s broken! A stove that is about quarter the size of the standard-size cooktop, and little to no counter space. Reduced cabinets available, and don’t even get me started on the refrigerator. It’s itty bitty. In fact, we had to ask our landlord if we could keep our turkey in their office fridge to thaw. This was my Thanksgiving now. This was my life.

A year ago we felt the Lord leading us down a scary road. We felt God wanted us to sell all our possessions, give up our comfortable home and routine, and travel the country as a family in an RV. Yeah, you’re not the first person to look at us like we’re crazy. We got a lot of that. Heck, we thought it was crazy too, but that couldn’t change the fact that we still felt like He wanted us to go. Not sure exactly how He could use this traveling lifestyle for us to further His kingdom, we began to step forward, but with trepidation.

That Thanksgiving I cooked in a spacious kitchen, complete with a fully functioning and adequate sized oven. I took the bounty from my double door fridge, and set platters all along my ceramic counters, eating from our dining room table. Did I mention before that we don’t have a dining room table now? We don’t have a dining room either. It’s basically one room that encompasses the dining, kitchen, and living room. One room a little bigger than my previous, spare bedroom. So recently as I struggled to prepare a Thanksgiving meal in my tiny house on wheels it didn’t get past me how different this year was from the ones before.

Although, back then, God was pushing us in the direction He had in mind, while changing our hearts and desires, I know it took a bit of fire to get us to jump. A failed business where we had to close the doors, mounting bills, and us seeing no other way to turn certainly did the trick. A part of me mourned to watch all our furniture fly out the door in the hands of strangers for pennies on the dollar, to let go of a life that had become routine. When we drove away from our two story, dream home, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me cry a little bit.

I used to have three full bathrooms, my own master bath complete with double sinks and a vanity table in between. Now I got ready in a bathroom the size of my previous linen closet. The hot water heater now held 10 measly gallons, and we emptied the contents of our toilet once a week at least. It’s a good thing we got rid of all of our things because we wouldn’t have room for them anyway. Can’t you just imagine how my Thanksgiving went?!

It was…

It was…

It was the most blessed day I’ve had in forever. And if I hesitate it’s only because I’m about to cry happy tears over it. I’m not sure what it is about giving up everything that makes you appreciate the little you have. It’s like when that measly, 10 gallon, hot water heater went out on us last month. After almost two weeks of cold showers, now, every time that steaming water hits me I cry, “thank you, Jesus!”

Sure, I have a small kitchen, but I get to stand at the counter of it with my darling daughters at my feet. I have less square footage, but more time with my spouse. I own less things, but I appreciate even more the things that I have now. I am thankful for the things I do have, not the things I do not. And it seems to me that your attitude towards your circumstances is what really makes them what they are.

Some folks would see living in a fifth wheel as a sad, downgrade. We see it as a blessed adventure. We are living the life God led us to lead, and enjoying it pleases Him even more. My daughters don’t pine for the toys they no longer have. They’re too busy enjoying themselves playing with the ones they do. And that’s where the meat of thankfulness lies.

To be grateful is to be so occupied with joy over the gifts before you that you have not the time to think of the things you do not possess. I mean, you could, but that mindset ruins everything. You have two choices in life. You can walk in a way that celebrates the beauty of little things like a gorgeous sunset and a yummy breakfast, or you can trudge through life complaining about it all. The interesting thing is that for most of us, the things we detest are the very things someone else prays for. The life most of us lead is never good enough for us, yet over our shoulder is someone admiring it. We seem to be a generation that doesn’t realize how truly blessed it is.

I never knew I could be so grateful for what a year ago, to me, would have seemed so little. It’s most peculiar, for it seems that as my possessions shrunk, my heart grew. God knew that me giving up the things that I only thought were a blessing would open my eyes to the things that truly are. He knew that an uncertain future would make me more able to appreciate His guidance and provision in my life. He knew that changing my life and removing me from my comfort zone would cause me to trust Him more. He knew He needed to slow my life down, take away the schedules and to-do lists that distracted me, to open my eyes to the beauty of the world around me. He knew that sometimes the weight of too much makes your heart feel less.

Now, each day that I wake the first thing out of my mouth is praise. Even if it’s 5am and I’m getting up to go to work I will proclaim, “thank you, Lord, for a good night’s sleep.”

If I don’t sleep so well I’ll say, “thank you, Lord, that I didn’t sleep any worse. Thank you that you’ll give me the strength I need for the day.”

If my bank account is dwindling I’ll say, “thank you, Lord, that we have enough for what we need.”

If I have a bad day at work I’ll say, “thank you, Lord, that you got me through it.”

So when I’m bumping into the wall in that tiny bathroom, and my mind wants to be angry that it’s so small, I’ll be quick to say, “thank you, Lord, for this RV. Thank you that it’s all ours, that we own it. Thank you that it’s dry and warm.”

I could focus on the fact that it’s cramped, or I could focus on the fact that it’s all I really need, and that I’m grateful I have it at all. I’ve seen enough homeless people lately to know they would love to have the life I do.

When my children are driving me crazy I try to remember they won’t always be small.

When I’m tired from work I try to remember what a blessing my job is, how it provides so well, and how it offers us the option to explore the country on the days I’m not working.

When the devil would try to whisper discontent to my heart, I would silence him by speaking gratitude. After all, if you’re constantly in an attitude of gratitude you’ll be far too busy to complain or be unhappy with your lot.

This is only something I’ve learned this past year. I used to always dream of more, long for better, and hope for bigger. I wanted a larger home, a newer car, more vacations, and things like that. I didn’t realize until recently that less can be more, and that the very best things in life cannot be measured. Love is free, and it exists when you have little, and when you have a lot. It’s just a matter of if you can see it. Gratitude opens your eyes to appreciate the small things in life. You desire less because you realize you already have all you’ll ever need.

I still have my moments when discontent tries to come upon me. I think we’ll always have the option, but it’s up to us to decide how we’ll go forward from there. You can wallow in unhappiness and a longing for more, or you can walk in gratitude and be the richest person in the world.

A Generation That Hates Mondays

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We’re a generation that hates Mondays. Have you noticed that? Monday Memes abound, and when Sunday evening draws to a close the majority of America falls into a state of silent dread, downtrodden for the walk into whatever workplace that awaits them the following morning. I wonder to my self sometimes, was it always this way?

What are we working for, or who are we working for? When did we become so discontent with our station in life that the thing we spend the majority of our time doing (work) becomes the thing we dread the most? Worse than death and taxes, it seems work has taken first place as the most certain thing we absolutely must face. And we face it with a deep-set frown.

I mean, you gotta work, right? Someone has to pay the bills, pay the second mortgage, finance the Disney trip next summer, and keep the kiddos in designer duds. We live to work, we work to live, never imagining there could be a different way.

We’re afraid to do the things we really love, the things dreams are made of. I went into the nursing field over packing up and heading to Hollywood because my dad insisted the medical field was the smart choice, the reliable choice, the vocation that would bring in a steady income. Because that’s the world we live in.

We don’t chase dreams; we chase paychecks. We don’t create a debt-free life. Instead we create the life we’ve always dreamed of, complete with price tags we can’t really afford. We pack our lives and over-sized homes with things we don’t really need, but things that might fill the emptiness we have over doing a job we don’t really enjoy.

Or perhaps we forget who we’re working for. Generations before us had a pride for their jobs, whatever they were, because they knew they were working (in essence) for their families. Today we’re usually working for a newer car, a bigger lawn, or to payoff our caviar dreams. We work for vacation, not for the satisfaction of a job well done. We work overtime for those coveted vacations that photograph well, the ones to even make the Joneses green with envy. We work day in and day out for those paltry two weeks that are so jam-packed with all the things we’ve been missing that we’re exhausted from our time off. Is there any Monday worse than the Monday after vacation?

Is there a way we could hate Mondays less? I mean, Monday isn’t really any different than Tuesday, or Friday for that matter. As a nurse I can be off on a Monday as easy as work a Sunday. So it’s not so much Monday that we hate, but rather what Monday represents. And typically Monday represents the return to something we’d rather not return to. It’s a return to a job we hate, a job we gripe about endlessly, yet are afraid to leave. We’re afraid to make a change, as if we truly believe that the evil we know is far better than the one we do not.

So, we’ll keep robotically returning to something we dread, living life like a replay reel. Just like the movie Groundhog Day, we’re forced to repeat each and every day just like the one before it. Yet even in that movie, didn’t Bill Murray discover he could change the outcome of each and every day?

Can we be the change?

What if we stepped out in courage to conquer something new?

What if we listened to the still, small voice in our head that told us of a different way?

What if we stopped working to have more stuff we didn’t really need?

Or we stopped losing sight of the joy that existed in every single day?

Maybe we could open our eyes to the little things that blessed us, instead of trudging in a trance to the beat of the same glum drum.

Maybe we could pay off debt instead of creating more. Maybe we could create time off instead. Maybe we could create the opportunity to chase a dream.

Because I’m still over here trying to figure out when in the world The Great American Dream stopped being about living your dreams?! And instead it became about striving in stress to create for yourself what someone else said is “your” American Dream.

We forgot how to step outside the box. We forgot how to focus on what’s important. We started one day working for all the stuff that will rust and ruin, instead of cultivating and creating a legacy to leave behind.

And you see, a legacy doesn’t have to be what the world says is “great.” Sometimes most times the greatest legacy you can leave behind is family and friends who have learned from you to cherish life as the gift it is. They know you don’t just cherish Saturday and Sunday, dragging themselves through the rest of the week in a disillusioned fog. No! They cherish every day. They work for the things they cherish in all of those cumulative days, and if it’s not worth cherishing then they don’t waste their time working over for it. They won’t work tirelessly for another man’s dream. They’ll create their own.

So why do we hate Mondays? Perhaps it’s because we’re uncomfortable. We’re uncomfortable living a life that fights for dreams we didn’t dream. Instead we’re working for dreams that society created for us. They’re dreams of paper and sand that will collapse before we ever obtain them. And even if we do grab a little handful, won’t the wind eventually just blow it away?

Perhaps if we were working for our own dreams, working for relationships with those we love, and working less because we let go of the paper dreams, maybe then we wouldn’t hate Mondays quite so much.

I mean, it’s worth a try, right?

Ask yourself, what are you working for? If you died tomorrow and it wouldn’t follow you to Heaven, then perhaps it’s not worth working so laboriously to obtain.

I don’t know, but maybe Monday can just be another day.