Closing a door and Opening a Window...Really, God? Again??

Dear God, How many times in this life do I have to re-invent myself? 

It is rather exhausting picking myself up by my bootstraps once again....hey, I am 58 and fairly energetic. You created me with enough energy for two people some days, and I know how to get things done. 

But this thing about moving me on to other jobs, callings, careers? Well, sometimes I just find it hard to do. New co-workers, new offices, new clients, changes all over the place.

Now don't get me wrong, I love change. You know me, I get bored easily which is why I like projects. A new project for me to dive into with both feet, and you know I am going to do that again. You made me a passionate caring woman, and I love that about myself. (My husband does too!)

So, Lord, give me the courage to do it all over again. Give me the wisdom to deal with new people, and to make a difference for you in the next challenge too. 

Thanks for the opportunity to see my world and my work in a whole new way. I appreciate that about you, God. You have given me some amazing opportunities. 

But Lord, do you think this could be the last change in my working career? Hmmm......that would be nice. 

Well, as long as I don't end up on the street....Amen.

Travelling North America - by motorcycle - with teenagers...yep, we did it.

Our Family Odyssey

In 1992, my husband and I decided to sell the house, put stuff in storage, and travel by motorcycle around Canada, USA and Mexico with our 14 and 16 year old teenagers. We took 3 months to prepare, all the while putting everything we might need on our trip against the dining room wall. We sorted it out, packed it on 3 motorcycles, and rode 6 hours to my parents' house where we went through everything again, and sorted out what we thought we might really need. We left behind half of what we had originally loaded that morning. 

My husband rode a BMW K100, I rode a Honda CBX550F, our son Erik rode a Yamaha Vision, and daughter Nikolette rode behind my husband most days. We packed all the things we thought we would need into certain categories: Kitchen Bag, the Clothes bags, the Tent bags, the school book bags, the Tool bag, and the Misc Bag. Each item had to go back in exactly the same spot after using it so that we always knew where everything was when we needed it. 

Similar to Herb's bike

After discussing it with our kids' schools (Niki was going into 9th grade and Erik into 11th grade), both principals seem to think it would be a great idea, asking for correspondence along the way. We enrolled them in Alberta Distance Learning, and figured out a system to mail lessons from on the road. They got the highest grades ever while working on one subject at a time, studying in campsites on picnic tables while I cooked over a small propane stove and tutored when needed. Our daughter sent weekly postcards back to her school, which unknown to her were read over the intercom every week, making her a celebrity when she came home. Our son came home and told some motorcycle celebrity that he had just ridden 60,000 kms in the last year. He was told he was crazy until it was verified by the two reliable adults with him that it was indeed true; then he was lauded as Hero for the Day, earning the respect of many other riders. 

Our general modus operandi was to travel for 200-300 miles in a day, and then find a campsite. Then usually Herb or sometimes Erik would ride back into town for supplies after the tents were set up (3 tents: one for Herb and I, and one each for the kids) if we had not already picked up supplies passing through town. While I cooked supper, the kids would do their school work and Herb would check out the bikes, or the campsite or plan our route for the next day (hardcopy road atlas, no gps, before Google Maps). Our 14 year old daughter was so proud that she could set up her tent by herself, and the kids would often compete to see who could put up their tent faster. Both kids learned how to find firewood and start a good campfire; how to use a knife in a useful way; and how read a map to plan the next day's travel. 

We had been on the road about a week, and were in northern Michigan and we set up camp at a lovely spot on the river. Erik came back from town saying, "Batten down the hatches, a storm is coming through." We ate quickly while making sure everything was as waterproof as possible. That night the thunder shook the ground under the tents, the rain came down in bucketfuls, Niki nearly floated away in her tent and we got totally drenched. I remember laying there thinking, "I sold my house for THIS!" After packing up very soggy sleeping bags and tents the next morning, we rode into town for a hot breakfast. In the little diner, the electrical company employees at the next table could not believe we had camped through what they called "the worst storm in a decade". It took a early stop with sunshine to dry out all the gear before we fell asleep that night in another campsite. 

From Sept 6, 1992 to May 20, 1993 we travelled through all ten Canadian provinces, all lower forty-eight USA states and about eight Mexican states. We crossed the continent 6 times, and rode about 60,000 kms (about 40,000 miles). We met wonderful people, rarely went on an interstate, choosing instead the "blue highways" of John Steinbeck or William Least Heat Moon. 

Not us, but a typical KOA Camping Cabin

A Mennonite Family in Mexico

Mostly we stayed in campgrounds, but sometimes we did get a KOA camping cabin, or occasionally a motel room in really bad weather. We also used a Hosting Program called "Mennonite Your Way" or we stayed with friends in all four corners of the continent for a day or two. That way we got to be in homes like a lighthouse in Michigan, a dairy farm in upstate New York state, the home of the only doctor to lepers in Louisiana, and an eco-ranch in Arizona. We stayed in a monastery one night, the first married couple ever to share a room there with the silent monks. We rented a condo for the month of November in Cocoa Beach, Florida and shared American Thanksgiving with friends living in Orlando. We spent Christmas in Chino, California where we had once lived for 6.5 years when the kids were small. For that holiday we actually treated ourselves to a nice hotel with a pool. One of our Christmas presents to each other was an hour each to ourselves in the room - we had been having a little too much "together" time. Herb and I shared our hours....

In Mexico, we found not only my extended Mennonite family who only spoke my childhood dialect, but we also met my parents there and traveled with them for two weeks. Then together we looked up a family that had been so good to my husband when he had an accident in Mexico, and they treated us like royalty, inviting us into their home and life, sharing feasts of delicious Mexican foods in rural central Mexico. We visited the home of an exchange student we knew well who took us to tour the Mexican pyramids in El Tajin. Traveling with a young Scotsman named Charlie who had bought a motorcycle when he entered the USA and was crossing the continent, gave us interesting company and new stories. He did not want to travel Mexico by himself, so he became a part of our caravan for three weeks. 

Too many stories to share in one blog, but if anyone wants to hear more of any particular part of the North American continent, we have probably been there!! 

It was a crazy year, a wonderful year and it was hard to come home. Every curve in the road brought a new adventure. When we came back to Edmonton and had bought a house and started settling in, our daughter said, "Dad, it's boring being in one place all the time." Our son said, "We made memories for a lifetime." We did.....maybe Herb and I will have to do it again....soon.

Monday, Monday...under the mango tree.....

Like the lyrics to the song made famous by the Mamas and the Papas, I find Monday mornings the most difficult part of the week, right after Sunday evening.

There seems to be a pattern to our days, and for a semi-free spirit like myself, I often wish that there could be more spontaneity to my life. Like this, the first ever flash mob dance that seemed spontaneous but of course had been very carefully choreographed and has now been imitated many times in many different ways.

 
If money is no object, then you have the freedom to "do" more spontaneous things, but as there are moths in my wallet, I will just have to "be" more spontaneous. We heard a good sermon this past week on doing and being.

We, especially as North Americans, just want to do, do, do......and in other countries, it is often more important that you "be". I have reminded of this many times as I see many churches (my own included) or service clubs sending out mission teams that always "do" construction or VBS for kids, or medical missions, etc. etc.  Of course many of these things are much needed. Yet we also need to "be"....be present in the moment, be in the lives of the people we want to "do" things for, be a light in the darkness, be a loving, caring human being. After all, we are called human "be"ings, not human "do"ings, although the later might apply to some of us.

A Malawian friend once said to me, "Sometimes it is just so good to have someone visit from North America who will  just be with us, sit with us, walk with us, eat with us, and let us know that there are other people of faith in this world. We are not alone, and because you have been here with us, we can be together in our struggle to live a life of faith, especially when times are hard."

It was a profound moment for me.

Since that time, I have tried to always find at least one person in the country that I am visiting with whom I can sit under a mango tree, or in their front yard, or in their school or church, and just listen and maybe talk. It is amazing at the amount of communication you can have with someone whose language you do not know, through gestures, smiles, and nods. If I see a woman sorting beans or chopping tomatoes, I will often sit beside her and help her in her work if she is okay with that.

Maybe I just need more time under the mango tree today.

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, how could you leave and not take me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, ...