Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Stepping Out in Faith Isn’t as Hard as I Always Thought

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This morning I was reading in the book of James again. There’s a lot packed into such a small book of the Bible, so it didn’t matter that I had just finished it last night. I started it over this morning, and then I jumped to Galatians. Funny how the Spirit leads, and I smiled as both chapters I had read from those particular books talked about the faith of Abraham.

Abraham. He’s the founding father of us all, that guy whose faith was counted as righteousness, and something we can all desire to be like. Although I am not sure I’d pass the test if God asked me to sacrifice my daughter on the altar. And I guess that’s what God talked to me about this morning. Faith, and how/why the stepping out in it part isn’t as bad as I had always imagined.

I bounced back and forth this morning between verses of the importance of faith in action, deeds that went along with the faith we proclaimed. Abraham had not known where God was going to have him end up, but when God said go, he did. It reminded me of our own experience in the fall of 2017.

God had spoken something very unusual to us. He had told us to go.

Go?! We had just bought our home, didn’t even have our last baby out of diapers. How was that supposed to work?!

But He had said it. The interesting part to me, in hindsight, is that we never doubted it. Y’all, I have doubts about my ability to always hear God correctly, but in this instance I knew without a doubt. My husband knew too, and that surprised me. For a man normally so contemplative when it came to God’s will, even he seemed solid as a rock. We just knew what we were supposed to do, and we did it.

There were naysayers. People we loved and respected questioned our decision. The world at large questioned our decision. I mean, why would anyone want to sell all the stuff they had worked twenty years to obtain? Why would you drag your children away from family and friends? Why would you trade a safe, comfortable job, retirement vested, for an uncertain, possibly unstable one? Why would you trade 2,200 square feet for 200?! It didn’t make sense to the world, I’m sure, but it made sense to us. Why was that?

I had always been a collector of things. I had things I had obtained from all around the world, and after my mother (a fellow collector) had passed away, I also held her things. I loved my things. Really, really loved them. Yet when I felt like God said to get rid of it all, it wasn’t an issue. I took a corner, gave myself 15 minutes, and I sorted into give, sell, or toss piles. I did it with my whole house. Everything. Gone.

My daughters loved their toys. Like, seriously loved their toys. Yet when I gave them one rubber-made tote and said, “fill it with what you want, the rest is going away,” they jumped at the chance. It didn’t make any sense to me, but they never complained. They never cried. In fact, they made a game of it. It was as if they enjoyed taking a room full of toys and paring it down into a little box. They smiled as they showed me their chosen treasures. Weird, right?

I read about Abraham this morning, and I thought back to when God told us to go. I remembered how easy it had all been. Despite the challenges, we had gone through with it. Despite the naysayers, we had moved forward. Despite the uncertainty and wackiness of the Word, we had left our home with a few suitcases and even less boxes, and we had hit the road to go wherever God said to go. I remember being scared, a little anxious at times, but nowhere near as bonkers as you would think a total life shift would make me. I took my children to a new city, with nowhere long term to shelter, a job that could fall through at any moment, and we had a ball. We loved it!

Now we live in an RV, and we live each day still with a “whatcha got next, God” attitude. I realize that when the Lord asks you to walk out your faith, He doesn’t ask you to walk alone. When the Lord requires deeds to follow the faith you profess, He gives you the strength to carry it out. I realized that a couple of years ago when we struck out for the unknown, we were able to move forward because God willed it. There was nothing extraordinary about us or our faith. He had simply given us the ability to step out in what He asked us to do. He had stripped away our flesh, and He had led us in Spirit. After all, our flesh would have flipped out at what we were doing back then, but our Spirits had simply obeyed.

It helped me understand that no matter what God has in store for our future, He will equip us to walk in it. It will never be something we must do on our own strength and might. All He asks is for a heart that seeks His, a heart that listens for next step directions, never being so distracted by the noise of the world, that you never hear His suggestion. After all, God never makes us do anything. He simply asks. It’s up to us if we will hear, and what we will do after that. I recognized today that we never have to worry that we can’t do what He asks, because He never asks us to do something He isn’t willing to make a way for. Where we lack, He will act. And looking back you’ll marvel at how stepping out was so easy.

Come To the Table

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Come to the table.

We live in world of drive-thru, take-out, and fast-food. Fast, fast, fast. We stand up to eat more than we sit. We multitask, eat and run, eat on the fly. We do not come to the table. It simply takes too much time.

Come to the table.

Taste and see.

This was what the Lord was beckoning me to do this morning. Every fiber of the old me wanted to run, to rush to the next stop. We had one more leg in our trip to arrive at the RV park where we would be staying for my next travel nurse assignment. The control-freak, duck-in-a-row persona was ready to get there. She wanted to see the new surroundings, to ensure there wasn’t a problem, to map out the drive to work (a full three days ahead of time), and to get to the next step. That part of me wanted to hurry and be done, but my spirit said, be still.

Slow done. Relax. Take a breather. Enjoy yourself. That’s what the Holy Spirit whispered to my heart.

Come to the table. Dine with me.

That’s what my Father invited. To commune with me, to sit down together, purposefully, and to make that concrete decision to taste and see that the Lord is good. When I rushed and ran I missed those moments with Him. When I hurried here and there I couldn’t hear His voice. When I raced about frantically I allowed my to-do’s to distract me from His presence. I missed out on the banquet table. I missed a sit-down dinner with Dad in favor of busyness. Life had demands, always, but there was also the choice. The choice to sit.

Come to the table.

We had driven what was supposed to take four hours to our current stop, but that had actually taken seven hours with horrible traffic and bathroom breaks. We had setup our fifth wheel after dark, on a hilly, uneven site, with grumpy, hungry children. We had slept long and hard, but as I sat alone on the couch drinking coffee with the Lord this morning I felt like He was calling me to rest some more! It was so easy to get in the routine of rushing, to dive into distraction unaware, to stand up eating so you could move on to the next task, and in that hurried lifestyle you missed family dinner. You missed time with the Father. And in missing dinnertime you also missed the blessing. God speaks health, healing, and abundant blessing into the lives of His children, but we have to stop and partake to even receive.

Come to the table.

Today I accepted the call to be still, to rest, to wait, to taste and see. We extended our stay at the park we had stopped off at, we delayed our arrival to the next. We hung out together, we rode a golf cart, we enjoyed the beauty around us, we drank it in. We saw the gift of God through nature, time with one another, and simply slowing down enough to enjoy His goodness to us. Where stillness of heart resides, so too does peace.

Come to the table.

Is God inviting you to dinner, today?

The Time We Got a Nail in Our Trailer Tire

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The day before we were to head out on the open road for the first time in our (new to us) fifth wheel we decided to make another practice run. This time, in addition to fully unhooking from the site and hooking up to our truck, we decided to leave the relative safety of our RV Park and hit the highway. This allowed us to not only get a feel of turning, as we’d done before, but also to check out highway speeds, accelerating up hills, and the decelerating back down. It had gone fine. I guess.

No. Honestly, it had made me tense. Already an anxious person, when we got going down the road I became acutely aware of every bump and jostle. Each groan of the engine made me wince, and I worried about things I thought I’d already settled my mind about. I began rechecking specs on our truck, performing calculations with abbreviations like GVWR and GCWR, growing more confused and anxious by the minute. The thing was, I knew our truck could handle it. We had gone over it before we even purchased the truck, choosing one we knew wouldn’t limit what RV we chose. We’d gone through it again before purchasing the fifth wheel we bought. Seeing the high number in my owner’s manual of what my truck could pull didn’t ease my mind. I just started worrying about things like hitch pin weight. Whatever that is.

I knew it was just my heart getting the best of me. I was all up in my feelings, as they say. I’ve discovered each day for me is a battle with the flesh. Being a very emotional person, each day I have to decide whether to be guided by my feelings, or the truth. The truth said God was for us, He was our protector, and I had nothing to fear. I woke the morning we were to depart determined to not let my fear get the best of me again, like it had the day before. I read about God’s promises to Joshua, and I knew they were promises for me too. We were on a journey God had given us.

As I showered and dressed my husband read his own Bible, and when I came into the living room he shared the verse he had simply opened his Bible to that morning.

Ezekiel 11:22

Then did the cherubims lift up their wings, and the wheels beside them; and the glory of the God of Israel was over them above.

“The glory of God is over us today.” My husband told me. “Cherubims will be alongside our wheels,” he smiled.

We both worked together that morning in good spirits, we headed out of our neighborhood for the last four months right on time, and we readied our minds for the adventure ahead. But just yards before pulling out of our RV Park my husband spoke, almost like an afterthought.

“I wanna check everything one last time,” he explained.

I sat in the passenger seat as he walked around our fifth wheel, and minutes later he returned.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he said. “There’s a nail in the fifth wheel tire.”

I jumped out quickly to go look with him, and together we stood on the roadside, in the blazing Orlando sun, staring at shiny metal staring back. Another dually, complete with family, came up beside us.

“Y’all need some help?” The stranger asked. Another fulltime family, by the looks of it.

The three of us assessed this odd nail. It had just recently stuck into the tire, but most of it had bent, nestling itself in between the tread. At closer inspection it appeared to have not yet pierced the rubber deeply, but sat in such a way that continued driving would push it farther and farther into the tire. The consensus of us travelers chose to pull it out right then and there. To drive on the nail no further. So that’s what we did. If a tire was going to go flat we wanted it then rather than later. We couldn’t hear air escaping or see it when we sprayed it with soapy water, so we said a prayer, a farewell to our fellow traveler, and roamed on.

I kept the nail. It broke in half when we pulled it out, deep enough to require pressure to remove, but not so deep that any damage was done. We knew, though, that had it stayed in, it would have.

The guy who had surveyed the situation with us had asked my spouse, “how did you even see that thing?!”

But we knew how. He had stopped for a reason. We were not alone on our road trips, and I’m not talking about the kids in the backseat. God’s glory was all around us, and His angels surrounded us. His peace flowed in our hearts, our tire remained taunt over the hundreds of miles, and His love for us was ever evident. His love didn’t mean we wouldn’t get nails in our tires, but it did mean He would never leave us. And that was the best travel reassurance I could get.

Here’s the Thing About Praying Specific Prayers…

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This morning I was reading in Genesis, and I love reliving the experience of real life people who experienced God’s goodness. But I was especially touched today when I read about Abraham’s servant who was tasked to find a wife for Isaac. The great part was when he started looking in earnest he asked God specifically to let it play out a certain way. He was like, God, so I’ll know it’s you, I want you to have the bride-to-be to give me a drink of water. Then for good measure let her offer some to my camels too. Ok? But the greatest part was before he even finished praying this outlandish prayer, God answered. I mean, the words hadn’t even left his lips before Rebekah walked up and offered him a cool drink. Ask and receive, am I right?! Then when he repeated the situation to her family they knew without a doubt that it was of God. How else could a prayer that specific be answered just as specifically if it wasn’t?

I found this account to be a fabulous reminder of how a prayer life should be. We should be so certain of God’s involvement and blessing on our life that we pull out all the stops. Abraham had told his servant that God would take care of it. So the servant went with that fact. He prayed a very specific prayer that only God could fulfill, and he had faith that God would do just what he asked. So much so that God answered before he even closed his lips. Bam!

I believe that these situations aren’t just stuck in the Old Testament, but that God has big, specific answers for us today. And He wants us to ask in belief that He will answer.

This morning the forecast called for rain. I had looked at it last night and told Ben we wouldn’t be going to the pool. A glance again this morning confirmed the weather report of rain and thunderstorms. But I really wanted a little sun by the pool. I think sometimes we have desires but feel guilt asking God for them. It’s like we think we’re being selfish to ask it of Him. The girls had already expressed their desire to go to the pool. It had been a lot of thunderstorms for the past two weeks as we entered Central Florida’s rainy season, and we’d been chased away from the pool by bad weather every time we’d gone. So as they expressed the same desire as me for sunshine, I called them over to pray about it with me. As we looked out the window at the gray sky and down at my phone at an even gloomier forecast we prayed for sunshine. Ben looked at his radar and said we might have an hour of overcast skies if we hurried. So off to the pool with high hopes we went.

Just like the girls had asked of us, I asked of God as we went. Please, Lord. Just keep the rain away for a little while. Let us enjoy some time at the pool together on my day off.

Well, not only did it not rain, but the sun came out in full force! There wasn’t a gray cloud in the sky for as far as I could see. And this was in total opposition to how it had looked before we left the house, what the radar had shown, or what the hourly forecast had promised. God gave us sunshine.

As I lay soaking in the rays after swimming with my girls, I watched my husband walk in his gifting. The sun and clear skies had brought another gentleman out by the pool, and in a fashion that only my husband can carry out, he struck up an easy conversation. He’s so unlike me. Where I have trouble conversing with a stranger, Ben takes to it like a fish to water. He feels like the best way to show God’s Love is to love people. So he takes every opportunity he can to talk with whoever God puts in his path. His gift of gab, heart for others, and easy way of listening is a treasure for me to watch.

After a few hours poolside we decided to go visit a small, scenic town down the road called Celebration. It easily lives up to its name with picturesque architecture and beautiful scenery. It’s a great place to grab lunch or ice cream, walk around, and even play in the fountain. We saw they rent specialty, family bikes for riding around the lake, and that will be our next adventure here. While we skipped the bikes today, we still had a wonderful time. It had rained just before we arrived, but stopped as we pulled into our parking spot. And it didn’t rain again until we were ready to go!

Here’s the thing about praying specific prayers… You get specific answers. Thank you, God, for a great day!

How Hard Was It To Let Go of Everything For My Family’s Sake?

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223 days. That was how many days it has been since we decided to do something. For longer than that we knew the status quo wasn’t working for us, but it has been over 200 days ago since we decided we were going to do something about it. That’s the first step, you know? The first step, and the scariest, is always deciding to make a change. Then hesitantly, but with certainty you make that first trembling shuffle forward. It’s now been almost two months since we left behind the familiar in favor of adventure, since we cast off The American Dream in favor of truly living the dream. 56 days ago we said goodbye to the seemingly normal and hello to new things. As we create a new normal I’m able to look back and see the enormity of what we were able to do in such a short time.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

My dear aunt. More like a mother since my own had passed away, my aunt looked at me with loving concern as she questioned my emotions. Back in September we had just completed the first, big purge yard sale. I had cheaply sold knick knacks I had carted around the country, carefully packing them, for the past twenty years. I had let them go quickly and emotionlessly, and now that my home sat much emptier than it had the week before I contemplated her question. Was I okay? I wasn’t sure what bothered me more, the fact that I had sold most of my life in a weekend’s time, or the fact that I didn’t much care that I had. As I looked inside myself I realized I was more than okay; I was fine and dandy. I didn’t quite understand it, but somehow I had easily and efficiently parted with a large array of personal, albeit materialistic possessions. The weirdest part was how light and airy I felt. It was like a weight had been lifted. Stuff! All this stuff I had carefully packed in boxes, unpacked, dusted, and told the children not to touch was gone. The boxes and boxes of children’s clothing? Gone. Wine glasses and china I never used? Gone. It was all gone, but so was some of the anxiety I had been carrying for years.

A friend who had decided to follow our lead and start traveling the country with her family in an RV had recently mentioned to me how surprised she was at how easy everything seemed to be coming together.

“Launching into this lifestyle is actually quite easy,” I answered. “It’s the mental hurdles that are the hard part.”

And that was true. Forty years of life had told me I needed a big house with a picket fence, that I needed the yard, the dog, the family car, and a nice vacation once a year. What I didn’t realize was that life could be one lived so well that you didn’t need to take a vacation from it. I thought an excellent credit score was to be my pursuit so that I could obtain all the things that made life more enjoyable. Yet every year I spent watching my babies grow quickly, I realized all the frills were not necessary. We had all we needed in one another. The rest of it just distracted you from the important people in your life.

But the worst of it was the stress! The stress I created! The time constraints, the schedules, the to-do lists. The bills, the frills, and the window dressing. It was suffocating. Why did we work so hard just to pay bills and die? What happened to enjoying life to the fullest everyday with the people you cared about?

It turns out the hardest part was letting go of the familiar. A caged animal when set free will be hesitant to leave the constraints of its familiar surroundings. Even though freedom lies directly ahead there’s fear. Fear of the unknown. At least in captivity everything is comfortable and the same. I’m reminded of the Israelites who fled from Egypt. At one point they wanted to return to slavery rather than trust God to take them somewhere new. Trusting God for something new can be scary.

Even as I watched my furniture be swiftly taken out of our house it wasn’t that hard. I won’t lie; it was emotional, but it wasn’t near as difficult as I had assumed. Even whittling down my closet of shoes wasn’t terrible. As I looked at the empty rooms and bare floors it wasn’t so much the fact that all our things were gone physically. It was the idea mentally that we had nothing. Somewhere inside me had been built an ideal that the things I obtained in life held merit, that they were what made us successful and full. So as I realized we had given it all up, that we had given away our clothes (other than a small suitcase full), that we had sold the car and the minivan, that our home was going to be lived in by someone else, it hit me that now all we had was one another. Our businesses were gone, our jobs gone, and all the many things we had filled in the spaces with; it was all gone. All we had was one another and the desire to be together. Turns out that’s all we needed.

So the hardest part of deciding to take on a fulltime family, traveling lifestyle isn’t giving up all your stuff and your house. It’s not even leaving a familiar job, community, and extended family support system (although that is hard). It’s not the homeschooling or removing your children from their local activities and friends. The hardest part is realizing mentally that all the comforts and materialistic things aren’t what life is all about. It’s the journey from knowing that, but then actually deciding to walk in that. It’s the decision to buck the status quo, be different, and do what makes you happy, not what the world promotes as making you happy. We’re currently fifteen minutes from Disney World, but Disney World isn’t the happiest place on earth. Wherever you are with the people you love, that’s the happiest place on earth. Happiness isn’t found in the clothes on your back, within the walls of a house, or in your bank account. It’s found in the smile of your child, the way your spouse gazes lovingly at you across the room, and on your ability to find joy in any and all circumstances through Jesus. If a busy life is a distraction from God’s joy the hardest part may just be realizing that and letting go of the distractions.

Was it hard to let go of everything for my family’s sake? Surprisingly no. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, the best thing I never realized I needed all along, and the most eye-opening experience of all times. If you’re ever brave enough to take that first step, you’ll look back later and wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

How Hard Was It To Let Go of Everything For My Family’s Sake?

by

223 days. That was how many days it has been since we decided to do something. For longer than that we knew the status quo wasn’t working for us, but it has been over 200 days ago since we decided we were going to do something about it. That’s the first step, you know? The first step, and the scariest, is always deciding to make a change. Then hesitantly, but with certainty you make that first trembling shuffle forward. It’s now been almost two months since we left behind the familiar in favor of adventure, since we cast off The American Dream in favor of truly living the dream. 56 days ago we said goodbye to the seemingly normal and hello to new things. As we create a new normal I’m able to look back and see the enormity of what we were able to do in such a short time.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

My dear aunt. More like a mother since my own had passed away, my aunt looked at me with loving concern as she questioned my emotions. Back in September we had just completed the first, big purge yard sale. I had cheaply sold knick knacks I had carted around the country, carefully packing them, for the past twenty years. I had let them go quickly and emotionlessly, and now that my home sat much emptier than it had the week before I contemplated her question. Was I okay? I wasn’t sure what bothered me more, the fact that I had sold most of my life in a weekend’s time, or the fact that I didn’t much care that I had. As I looked inside myself I realized I was more than okay; I was fine and dandy. I didn’t quite understand it, but somehow I had easily and efficiently parted with a large array of personal, albeit materialistic possessions. The weirdest part was how light and airy I felt. It was like a weight had been lifted. Stuff! All this stuff I had carefully packed in boxes, unpacked, dusted, and told the children not to touch was gone. The boxes and boxes of children’s clothing? Gone. Wine glasses and china I never used? Gone. It was all gone, but so was some of the anxiety I had been carrying for years.

A friend who had decided to follow our lead and start traveling the country with her family in an RV had recently mentioned to me how surprised she was at how easy everything seemed to be coming together.

“Launching into this lifestyle is actually quite easy,” I answered. “It’s the mental hurdles that are the hard part.”

And that was true. Forty years of life had told me I needed a big house with a picket fence, that I needed the yard, the dog, the family car, and a nice vacation once a year. What I didn’t realize was that life could be one lived so well that you didn’t need to take a vacation from it. I thought an excellent credit score was to be my pursuit so that I could obtain all the things that made life more enjoyable. Yet every year I spent watching my babies grow quickly, I realized all the frills were not necessary. We had all we needed in one another. The rest of it just distracted you from the important people in your life.

But the worst of it was the stress! The stress I created! The time constraints, the schedules, the to-do lists. The bills, the frills, and the window dressing. It was suffocating. Why did we work so hard just to pay bills and die? What happened to enjoying life to the fullest everyday with the people you cared about?

It turns out the hardest part was letting go of the familiar. A caged animal when set free will be hesitant to leave the constraints of its familiar surroundings. Even though freedom lies directly ahead there’s fear. Fear of the unknown. At least in captivity everything is comfortable and the same. I’m reminded of the Israelites who fled from Egypt. At one point they wanted to return to slavery rather than trust God to take them somewhere new. Trusting God for something new can be scary.

Even as I watched my furniture be swiftly taken out of our house it wasn’t that hard. I won’t lie; it was emotional, but it wasn’t near as difficult as I had assumed. Even whittling down my closet of shoes wasn’t terrible. As I looked at the empty rooms and bare floors it wasn’t so much the fact that all our things were gone physically. It was the idea mentally that we had nothing. Somewhere inside me had been built an ideal that the things I obtained in life held merit, that they were what made us successful and full. So as I realized we had given it all up, that we had given away our clothes (other than a small suitcase full), that we had sold the car and the minivan, that our home was going to be lived in by someone else, it hit me that now all we had was one another. Our businesses were gone, our jobs gone, and all the many things we had filled in the spaces with; it was all gone. All we had was one another and the desire to be together. Turns out that’s all we needed.

So the hardest part of deciding to take on a fulltime family, traveling lifestyle isn’t giving up all your stuff and your house. It’s not even leaving a familiar job, community, and extended family support system (although that is hard). It’s not the homeschooling or removing your children from their local activities and friends. The hardest part is realizing mentally that all the comforts and materialistic things aren’t what life is all about. It’s the journey from knowing that, but then actually deciding to walk in that. It’s the decision to buck the status quo, be different, and do what makes you happy, not what the world promotes as making you happy. We’re currently fifteen minutes from Disney World, but Disney World isn’t the happiest place on earth. Wherever you are with the people you love, that’s the happiest place on earth. Happiness isn’t found in the clothes on your back, within the walls of a house, or in your bank account. It’s found in the smile of your child, the way your spouse gazes lovingly at you across the room, and on your ability to find joy in any and all circumstances through Jesus. If a busy life is a distraction from God’s joy the hardest part may just be realizing that and letting go of the distractions.

Was it hard to let go of everything for my family’s sake? Surprisingly no. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done, the best thing I never realized I needed all along, and the most eye-opening experience of all times. If you’re ever brave enough to take that first step, you’ll look back later and wonder why you didn’t do it sooner.

What Saturdays Are Like Now

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As I stood in the public shower of Lake Louisa State Park helping my seven year old wash large, hard grains of sand off her calves I smiled at her barely visible snaggle-toothed smile. Cascades of dirty blond hair fell over her face, and for about the billionth time I fell madly in love with my firstborn.

“Are you having fun on this trip,” I asked.

Because it was important to me that this worked for them too.

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “I’m excited to go for a hike!”

“I don’t just mean today,” I answered. “I mean the whole trip, living in a new place?”

“It’s awesome!” She answered happily. “There’s so much to do, so many things to see, and new people to meet that me and Bailey don’t even fight anymore like we did at home! We’re having too much fun to fight!

Her comment made me smile even further, and I could certainly relate to the circumstances she described. I couldn’t really explain what had shifted, but it wasn’t just our geographical location that had changed. Our mindset had changed. A life that had seemed so stressful and hurried suddenly didn’t seem so much. Here’s my best example.

The other day we went grocery shopping. Grocery shopping, especially with three, young children, has not always been my favorite thing. In fact, I didn’t like it at all. It was a chore. It was this thing I had to do, that seemed like just one more thing to complete. I was always flustered, rushed, and aggravated. We would plow through WalMart Supercenter on two wheels, me throwing Danimals and fruit snacks at my toddler to keep her tamed, and I would hate it.

So here I found myself on a Wednesday afternoon leisurely strolling through Publix, and it hit me how good this large, grocery shopping trip felt. I sashayed through the frozen foods and commented to my husband, “this is so nice.”

He agreed.

I beamed with the fact that I didn’t feel rushed. I was simply enjoying myself. I didn’t feel like I was completing a chore, even though I was. I just felt relaxed. To the max.

As we were driving home from our Saturday, day trip to a State Park a few miles from where we were currently staying I grasped my husband’s hand tightly.

“I love you,” I said. “All the times over the years I took the children places I always missed the fact you couldn’t be with us. This is wonderful!”

He agreed.

Before my husband worked all the time and our relaxing days together were far and few in between. Even on his off day he would be doing things for the store. Now I was working, but just three days a week. So the other four felt like we were on vacation. Over the past year we had gotten weary of the daily grind that was called the American Dream. It seemed crazy to work all the time for a huge house you didn’t even have time to enjoy, rush here and there to multiple obligations, and spend more time on to-do lists then you did simply enjoying each other’s company. So that’s changing for us.

The decision to become a fulltime family, and spending more time together has been the right one. We’re downsizing, traveling, and focusing on what’s important in life. We still have a mortgage at home, with our house still on the market, but we are actively working to pay down debt and dropping unnecessary materialistic possessions that have kept us stressed and chained down. It’s a process, but one I am happy to be a part of.

Today in our temporary, Florida home we went to Lake Louisa State Park. Here’s some pictures from our day.

The boardwalk to Lake Louisa swimming beach.

A little marshy!

Ben in the background checking for critters.

Playground on the beach.

All smiles!

Take notice of the tea-colored water.

There it is.

Seriously looks like tea!

I didn’t let them go much deeper than that, but some people swam far out.

Stunning!

Ben reading the gator notice. Swim at your own risk!

This isn’t the swimming area of Lake Louisa, but another lake in the park called Lake Dixie. This is a fishing pier. That’s an alligator that swam right up to the pier. A local fishing there said he’s never seen one do that, that someone must have been feeding it. Lucky sighting for us.

I’ve never seen an alligator in the wild before, nor so close.

The baby waving at the alligator.

Even the drive through the park was neat. It’s cool to see how local woodlands look in different parts of the world. State parks are definitely our fave. We plan to visit many!

Woken in the Night

by

A symphony of screaming sirens pulled me from a restless slumber, and as I listened to the fading fire truck sound pass on by I looked at the time. 8:45 in the morning. Not too shabby. The sirens didn’t bother me; I had lived in big cities before, and I was just glad I had gotten the solid five hours of sleep I had. At 3am it hadn’t seemed certain.

A lot of changes had occurred quickly. Just five days prior I had watched almost every single item under my roof be ushered out by mostly strangers who supplied their best offer for the objects that filled our home. I recall after it was over counting up the profit and thinking, is that really all it comes down to?!

There’s something strange about selling everything you own. It’s an opportunity to re-evaluate what you hold dear. So when you can get right down to the nitty gritty and really believe that none of it matters, you hold your family a little closer, you smile fondly at your children playing, and you say, “this right here. That’s all I need.”

So we had placed the meager leftovers of our stuff in the back of our pickup truck and we had left the comfort of familiarity behind. You would be surprised how much a routine keeps you steady and feeling safe, but I also think it may prevent you from wonderful surprises and blessings on the distant horizon. So we left that behind also. We left behind a large home, friends and family, and knowing how to find the nearest grocery store. We took along responsibilities we still faced, problems, bills, and daily concerns. You couldn’t run away from those, no matter what anyone thought, but in it all you could trust God. So that’s what we did. We knew He was leading us to this new lifestyle.

Well, let me tell you. You can trust God all you want, holding steady as your house becomes empty and an unknown job looms ahead, but anxiety and worry are sneaky bedfellows. Literally. Other than the initial shock when we saw how small our new, temporary home at an extended stay hotel was, I had been in good spirits despite all the change. I mean, there were moments on the road trip where I worried about our luggage flying out of the back or a crazy breakdown (who knew we needed Diesel Exhaust Fluid filled), but for the most part I was fairly chillax about it all. I just kept on praying, and it seemed to be working. So imagine my surprise when I woke suddenly at 2:30 am.

My first thought was, oh my God, my back! Yeah, I’m like the princess and the pea, but by golly, I’m forty years old and I can be mattress spoiled if I wanna! When I woke up it felt like metal coils were branding themselves into my bruised spine. But before I could lament too hard on that I was overcome by feelings of anxiety. I cannot even explain what happened to me overnight, but I am certain I was under a spiritual attack. There’s no other explanation for how I was feeling.

I would be better off dead! My brain said, and I shuddered at such a thought. I never had thoughts like that, but I was so overcome with worry that it seemed a good alternative. My mind raced with every problem or possible calamity that could occur. Fear, dread, and irrational concerns flooded over me. I prayed in earnest, but I couldn’t shake it.

Almost an hour later my husband saw me walking back from the bathroom and asked, “are you ok?”

I poured out my feelings and thoughts I was having to him, trying to keep quiet since the children slept on in the studio room. I asked for him to pray for me, and I laid on his lap as his hand rested on my back. I listened to the hushed words coming from his mouth, and slowly I began to drift off to sleep.

When I did wake again many hours later I noticed that my back no longer hurt, but more importantly my heart and mind felt at peace. The feelings of anxiety, fear, and worry were gone. It was as if they had never been there. I guess sometimes we all need our own personal prayer warrior to help us step off the ledge. Thankful for my husband especially in that regard.

I pray I won’t experience those feelings again. It makes me wonder what the Lord must have in store for us. And as a side note, I bought a mattress topper today for our bed!

Heading out on the road for good!