In the middle of January, when we were about to collapse at the thought of another snow day, my husband asked me where I’d like to go for spring break.
Spring break has become our annual family trip. It’s the one week we take off work so the kids can see parts of the United States like my husband did when he was a child. My in-laws drove their three children and niece all over the place during the summer so that they could experience the terrain and art surrounding each spot.
In our 13 years together, our children have hiked in the Smoky Mountains, experienced our nations’ history in D.C., felt the different sand textures on the Chesapeake Bay and in Destin, FL. They have driven through the rolling hills of Iowa, felt the sticky heat of Missouri and climbed bluffs in Wisconsin.
My children don’t realize it yet, but these trips are a blessing. Not only have they seen parts of the country that many children do not get to see, but we also learn so much about our individual personalities, and how they mesh together in way we don’t get to experience in a day-to-day routine.
But I am a whimsical woman. I truly just want to live in a “let’s see what will happen today” mentality. And after being stuffed inside our seven room box since October, I just wanted to go. No planning. I just wanted to pack up the tent, drive for five hours a day, and see where we ended up.
There’s so much to this world I have yet to experience. I hope that when I die, God will let my spirit go into the depth of the caves and oceans, that He’ll let me climb into the thoughts and feelings of men and women and that He will let me crawl into bars in Los Angeles and New York. There is so much to this world, and my life is but a spec.
I don’t know if it was the long winter or a change inside me, but I have really craved my independence lately. Wouldn’t it be cool to just live out of a suitcase and couch surf through 50 states? Or carry a tent on my back while hiking the Appalachian Trail? What if I just flew out to Seattle for a few days?
As a mother, and well, a human being, this mentality is rarely (okay, never) acted upon because we all have limitations and responsibilities. Also, I love and live with four planners.
Before I knew it, we were going to Albuquerque. I stayed out of the planning, the routes and restaurants. I just knew I needed an adventure, and I needed warmth. And I knew that what I really needed (really, really needed) was a spark inside of me.
Of course, we always look for a spark outside of the beautiful things we have right in front of us.
Maybe I would rediscover my curiosity in the naturally running water at Devil’s Den in Arkansas? Or fall in love with the kind heart of the hotel clerk in Oklahoma City? Where was my sense of awe and wonder as I hiked through the sandstone and gypsum layers at Caprock Canyons? Or my excitement as we watched prairie dogs chirp, mountain goats climb or roadrunners scatter? Why didn’t I want to spelunk in Carlsbad Cavern or climb to the top of Guadalupe Mountains? Where was my childlike spirit as my family sledded down the White Sand Dunes? And why do I want to be at the Garden of the Gods in Shawnee National Park when I’m looking at Pikes Peak from the Garden of the Gods in Colorado?
Crazy. I know. I just kept thinking about Mahomet. Mile after mile I discovered that our route through the southwest wasn’t what I had expected it to be. In this part of the southwest, we saw miles and miles of sand and yucca plants. Of course all of our stops were amazing creations of God, and I did feel the awe in that. But I also struggled to reconcile how these gems were only a very small part of the picture.
Our 2,000 mile trip included a whole lot of time in the car. Spotted throughout the barren mountains and flat lands, I swallowed what rural poverty and wealth really look like. I took note of how people in many regions try to make a living from what the land can provide. I noticed that pictures of beautiful landforms do not paint a picture of an entire region. And in the silence, I thought a lot about how lucky I am to live in Mahomet.
I feel like I am often without options Central Illinois, but from Mahomet, we can get to large cities within two or three hours. We may not have large establishments here, but when we go out, we are more than likely to see our friends. We may not have mountains, but within an hour or two we can play in lakes, climb through rugged terrain or walk on calm paths. And most importantly, in Mahomet, most of us can find someone we love no more than 10 minutes away.
After we left Carlsbad Caverns and discovered a refuge for bears in the Guadalupe Mountains, the five of us shared our ideas on how God manages His creation. We listened to each other. And while seeing the vastness of this world prompted this discussion, we didn’t need to be in a car to do this. Now that the kids are getting older, we sit around the dinner table after we are done feasting to share our stories and ideas.
I went on a trip looking for a spark, but found my spark remembering the blessings I have right here. Some people spend their whole lives looking for someone they can unfold into. I have that. Some people long to get out of abusive homes or troubled neighborhoods. I am safe here. Some people want a house, cars, gadgets and food. Honestly, I have an abundance of those things here. Some people dream about putting their talents to use in a profession. I am living my dream.
During the trip, I thought a lot about people who spend their whole lives trying to fill a void by going somewhere else. I remembered how I’ve wanted that several times, and how it has never been the answer for me.
The truth is, adventures, like all things in this world, are best when you’re not looking to take something away from an experience, but willing to invest yourself and give something back.
And so, I am home with a new resolve.
