Thursday, May 7, 2020

Lake Life

1. Sometimes healing happens in the oddest places.


Can we be real for a sec? you guys, my smile is coming back. Not the one on my face, but the one in my soul that I lost right in the middle of life somewhere. Maybe it was during the cross country move, or Brian's heart attack, or my last pregnancy. I don't even know. But it's been gone a long time.

I feel like the smile has been surfacing for a while now, a year or more, but it's been kind of like the fruit fly that drowned in my milk the other day... I could see it, but whenever I dipped my spoon in to get it, it disappeared again, pulled under by all the strong currents. Currents of milk, currents of self doubt, they can both be strong enough to pull something fragile under their surface.

Depression is different for everyone, so it's hard to define and even harder to cure. But one thing is for certain... it is real. And it's good at pulling soul-smiles under.

Anyway, I finally feel like I have a hold of it.  It's a slippery little thing, so I won't pretend I'll never drop it again. But healing is happening. I looked at this picture above when I got home from the lake the other day and I felt it instantly.  That girl up there feels so good.

And this healing is happening, of all times, in the middle of a global pandemic.

God answers prayers in His own time and in His own way.


2. I can't figure it out... is she adventurous or terrified of everything?



Because one moment she'll be scared to let her big toe touch the water, and the next minute she'll be walking into caves and jumping over rocks and boulders at a speed I can't even match.

3. I wish I could see the world through her eyes for a whole day.



She thinks this is beautiful. The dry, hot rocks and the dry, struggling shrubs and the dry-to-the-bone, never-ending dust... I do not get it. We went on this 'hike' together, up and away from the lake behind us, because that's where she wanted to go. She laughed and ran and climbed and walked and walked and walked... I kept trying to get her to turn around so we could hike along the rocks next to the water, but she had other plans. She doesn't see the water the same way that I do, and I don't see the desert land the same way she does.

"What are we looking for?" I asked her at one point as I ran to keep up.
"Lee-zrds!" she shouted back. "We're hunting lee-zrds!"

Soon afterwards a giant lizard ran out from under one of those dry, struggling little shrubs, over the tops of the dry, hot rocks, moving faster than I'd ever seen anything run, kicking up the dry-to-the-bone, never-ending dust behind him. Eliza squealed with delight.

And before I knew it, I was smiling. And then I was laughing. And then I was hunting lizards, too, there in that beautiful desert.

4. First time out of the box and we already lost a paddle.



Sounds about right. They tell you that children are expensive, but they don't tell you that it's largely because they break or lose everything you buy.

5. We always run out of sunlight before running out of things to do.


All three boys got up on skis this first time out on the lake this year. And Carson is really close to being able to drop one. This lake is a magical place for us and we were delighted when the quarantine lifted just enough to have it open back up for us this last weekend. I can't express how grateful I am that it didn't remain closed all summer long.

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