Friday, September 16, 2011

It happened one cloudy day.


When  she was a small girl growing up in the suburbs of Virginia, a desire was planted deep in her soul, a wild and untamed longing that would go unfilled for over 30 years. That girl would grow up, marry, have children, see her children and friends have the desire of her heart, while she patiently waited for her turn. She travelled out west in hopes of fulfilling her dream, she spent countless days camping in the remote wilderness, she rode the winding, twisting high roads of the high mountains on a motorcycle for years and years with one thought always in the back of her mind. "Is today the day?" She grew older and some wiser, and as the years slipped into decades, it became important to have a list of things she hoped to do or see before the end.  Her own "bucket list" of sorts. Bake bread, learn a language, be in a play, were all things that made the list.  There was one thing on the list that was completely out of her control, no way that she could make this happen, it just had to happen on its own or by design. She resigned herself to "one day" it will happen.  In the meantime "bucket lists" gave way to gratitude list and the real hunting began. No longer were the hunts about this one elusive prize but all the prizes were noticed and written and given thanks over, until today.

Today her husband called and asked her to go for a ride to look at property.  She really did not want to go, it was cold, cloudy, and homeschooled children needed to be schooled.  Her friends J and M wanted to come too, he was leaving for 2 weeks and they wanted to get in a ride beforehand.  She relented and decided that today was a gift to be enjoyed with good company. After they left the diner that had fed them lunch, she told herself that "today is a good ____ day." While riding home her husband had to pull over to the side of the road and check directions,  just as they were pulling out to get back on the road, IT finally happened.  She spotted with her beady little frying pan eyes a small dark object high in a tree, not more than 50 yds away.  I couldn't really say that I saw the sequence of events or remember them to clearly, but it has been said that there was some screaming, and throwing herself off the bike she ran to the edge of the shoulder of the road and saw, not one but two bear cubs in a tree.  Several more people stopped after they saw her group standing there and pointing, and she heard their stories of waiting years and years to see this, and of a man that had just come around the corner and said that "it was a day to see bear." But none could have possibly been as happy as that middle aged woman with streaking gray hair or her husband who always kept his eyes peeled for her and hoped right along side her.  Nor could it have been any better than to be with the friend that had tried so hard to help her see the bear that prowled their neighborhood for a week.  When she came home to write in her thankfulness journal the gifts of that day she already had several to write down before the sighting, and as she recorded the gifts, the cubs were #500, exactly half way.  While that might not mean much to you or me, to her that was another gift, because you see, she wanted the first gift to mean something, the halfway point to be something significant and the last one to finish well.  Today was a really good, cloudy, cold, gift day.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Amazing!!!!!

That is all I can say about this past weekend.  Uncle Bubba (Nate's brother Ryan) actually wanted all 3 of my boys to spend Saturday night with him.  He actually wanted them Saturday morning, so we wasted no time in getting them there and then dropping off Dania at my folks house, so that we could escape for a romantic getaway.  We headed to North Carolina on the motorcycle and never looked back, well until Sunday that is.  We went to Bat Cave NC, and then stayed in Chimney Rock at an adorable Inn that offered us a discount because the owner was away and could not cook the gourmet breakfast they normally serve. We had a lovely continental breakfast on our screened in porch overlooking the river, road, and Putt Putt.  Chimney Rock is where The Last of the Mohican's was filmed and 3 miles down the road is the beautiful Lake Lure, where scenes from Dirty Dancing were shot.  Not that I am advocating either of those movies, but after seeing the height of Chimney Rock, I have so much more respect for the woman that threw herself off of the cliff, man that took guts. We did not go up there because I was surprised to see that it cost $12 a person.

We ate on a hillside restaurant that overlooked Lake Lure, on the balcony, at sunset.  It could not have been more picturesque.  We have no camera with us, other than the Iphone, and I didn't want to desecrate the memory with that kind of a photo.  Suffice to say the memory is worth a thousand words.  We lingered long, looking at the dark purple clouds in the fading orange light that faded to blue/black in way of the full moon.  There was a lovely wedding taking place at the fancy hotel and spa across the lake, and we would catch happy cheers carried across the waters.  After dinner we strolled along the waters edge all by ourselves, except for the lone fisherman that patrolled the shore.

The whole trip was filled with my singing praise songs.  I could not get over the majesty of the mountains, beauty of the rock formations and the rushing rivers with waterfalls. It is so easy for me to see God and feel his presence in nature.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to enjoy his handiwork, given for our pleasure and his glory.

The kids all came home happy, and I was able to fill pages in my gratefulness journal, and tuck away memories for the busy weeks ahead.
The cute little store and coffee shop that was connected to the lovely Bed and Breakfast we stayed in.

A stop in the Pisgah National Forest.  There was this little hotel and resturant right on top of this mountain in the middle of nowhere.

Always the photo of the bike.  I have so many of these, but they are almost always a different bike. Nate says he will be able to remember what year it was by the bike we are on. Uh! Yeah honey, right!

The biker man himself.Posted by Picasa