And that's when God said, "Pahk the Cah."
As our little family of 3 set out early, I mean... EARLY that glowing July 27th morning, my veins were pumping blood like never before. Anxiety wielded itself in that place that rests between your throat and the back of your head...and it just hung out..took residence, like, started making pot roast, and put it in the slow cooker, type of residence. You know that feeling when there's humming in that said' weird spot back there in your throat, that's the "worrier's touch". Adrenaline used to claim that area of my head until Anxiety walked in and scanned the "the ring"..put its foot down and said "YOU! ADRENLINE! YOU'RE OUT......I'M IN!" ... You ever felt that way?
That's the way I felt leaving Ohio and heading out for a two-week adventure with my family. A trip of a lifetime set out before us. Taking our hearts ransom and never returning all of the pieces.
I never knew God cared so much about me. I knew he cared about civilization. But me? Really? So much that he'd get to know my heart and all the little pieces in it and how they yearned for a simple life? So much that he knew the cold ocean and seafoam raised up a spiritual connection within me that made me feel creation's brink? So much that all those slammin' screen doors, and unforgiving hardwood floors, in the oldest part of our country, were waitin' for me on the East Coast? That---my dear friends is a mighty God. He's mighty because, out of all the crazy things in the world he could be wrapping his fingers around, in that moment he chose me... and he said, "You've been dreamin' of this a long time Sis, your time is now."
When the highways changed from Appalachian foothills to steep 'ridgy' hills, I knew we were not at home. As my eyes gazed out the window, the lyrics"Breath; come and breath on the coals of my heart may your fire start.." blared on the radio and it soothed my worry. As each special new skyline lined the horizon my heart got even more thirsty for what was to come.
After a quick visit to Gettysburg and a glance at the battlefields in the rain, we made it to our first real stop--New York. I couldn't believe we had made it. Michael's Aunt Linda and Uncle Fred made us a place to sleep and we shared a home for 2 or 3 days and soaked it up. Uncle Fred is an intelligent man. A man whom you trust your life with. A man who may remind you of the house rules-- but you love him anyway. A kind man who reads you deeply-- not just because he can, but because he wants to. He is precious. He is good. Aunt Linda is perfect. She, oddly enough, is like a cough drop for a sore achy throat. She's not a honey lemon cough drop. She's the good stuff. She's a cherry cough drop. She is sweet to the core and makes you forget about the sad things and the bad things. The things that dry up your throat. And when she's gone, you realized how much you forgot to thank her for soothing you.
We hung out with Mike's other side of the family and visited Sandy and Thorman. Aunt Marci came and visited too. Mike's Uncle Thorman was unlike any man I've ever met. He too, is so good. We took a train into the City; as neighboring New York towns call it, and we arrived at Grand Central Station --like shiny new gifts. We were proud. SO PROUD! Time to explore New York City. Time to wear out our shoes, hail taxi cabs, and eat at a real delicatessen that was in the movies.
When we visited Ground Zero, I will never forget the silence that crept in while staring at the infinite waterfalls, consuming the monuments. We looked up and envisioned where the towers would have been. Where the plane must have hit and then pictured the pandemonium on the sidewalk that day. We cried. We then ventured over to the bay to look at the Statue of Liberty. I looked at Mike and told him, " that's where it all started Love. Your family came through that tiny Island on a boat, from Italy. That's where you got your start in this Great Nation". We smiled.
We left New York and went to Boston. We stopped at Salem, Massachusetts and I relished in the history. I relished in some of the oldest roots around that area. I even made him take me to a grungy CVS parking lot. There in the back of a busted up lot was a section of trees gathered in a patch. A rocky prominence carved the sides of the surrounding oddly, in this pharmacy parking lot, and there it was. The real, recently discovered site, untouched for 300 years; the Gallows. I mourned for a moment... and then off we were to another location.
When we crested into Maine my heart lept out of my chest with force! The sign flashed in front of my eyes, and there it was "Welcome to Maine! The way life should be..." Really? Could this be an honest reverie? I started to cry. We made it! As I whipped out the map and looked at my sleeping child in the back I thought, "This is how God sees me. He sees my weary heart along for the ride and he just keeps on driving. He keeps on persisting. And then he shows up; the final destination."
As we made it to York Beach, Maine, I begged Mike to take me to the Nubble Lighthouse. We drove along the curvy road and saw many rocky-ledged-homes wedged between thrashing, tall waves, and forever-- a horizon awaiting to be discovered. It was beautiful. More beautiful than anything I could have pictured. The waves crashing on those hard, marbled stones, was like the fiercest symphony playing a soundtrack to my life. For such a time as THIS! This was the moment I was born for. To be a seafarer. To feel the cold windy breeze blowing my hair on the sides of my face, to close my sweater together tightly and cross my arms, to gaze into the endless waters thrashing about.
This was... me.
The lighthouse is a beautiful, simple, white farmhouse with a red roof. It is positioned on the perfect island. Impossible to touch, but just on the edge of tasting and it's a beautiful sight. I truly cannot describe what I saw, at that lighthouse. It was a piece of heaven touching the waters. It was fierce. However, it was also simple. We climbed down the rocky ledges and gazed up at the monstrous rock the house sat on. My heart stopped. This was the view on every postcard. Every idea of Maine is this lighthouse. I still have to pinch myself to reveal that I really, was, there. The next morning we visited it one more time before moving further up the coast of Maine and we were blessed to see a wedding being performed on the rocks. How beautiful.
On our way up the coast, we took the scenic route. We passed little cedar-shingled houses with old green ford trucks pahked with Lobstah' traps in the back. We visited Rockland, Freeport, and Ellsworth. We ate lobstah' rolls. We were happy.
When we finally made it to Bar Harbor, my heart settled into a shocking state of utter Joy. I thanked God many, many times over. The air was chilly our first night there. We had to wear Jackets! We bought London a jacket at the LL Bean store. It was a good thing! August 1 in Maine is like fair weather here in Georgetown. It was breezy, cold. Our Inn was called the Coach Stop Inn. An absolutely charming place. A primitive, colonial cottage nearly 200 years old. It exceeded our every need. Glass jars lined the window, an old stove as a serving buffet and iron hardware on a heavy wooden door, greeted us. We unpacked our bags and drove to the Harbor. That's when God said, "Pahk the Cah". We giggled forever over the Maine accents. It filled our hearts with warmth and goodness. Bar Harbor smells like blueberries. It saturates the air with thick aromas of blueberry lemon whoopie pies. It smells like sweet desserts, blueberries, and the Sea. I still couldn't believe we were here. I still wanted a sign from our Father God that this was his treat and not our mistake. The fruit of the Spirit was Joy for that day. Surely goodness!I ventured into a shop. A bright blue piece of glass drew me near. As I reached for it with eager fingertips, my hands trembled. I recognized the tag. There on the tag laid the name of Brown County's own local glass reFactory. It was hanging in a gift shop nearly 1100 miles away from home. What's funny is I was looking for a sun catcher, because I had given my glass reFractory sun catcher back home away to another family who left the area in a move ...(I love that family with all my heart by the way).
I couldn't even comprehend God's love in this very moment. He chased me down. He ruined me for anything else second to him in that very moment. He knew just how to reach my heart in the most intimate encounter. He joined the life I loved to live. The life I wanted to love. He was a part of it. He was there. He wanted me to stay for a while and soak in the ocean life and Acadia National Park. He wanted me to spend time with my Aunt Sherry who randomly was in Maine on vacation the same time we were. He wanted me to smell blueberries and eat rustic lobster bisque. He wanted me to see seals and bald eagles on our boat trip. He wanted us to "Pahk the Cah" and stay awhile. He wanted this because he loved us. He saw no little thing was too simple. I realized that he, unlike any other being on Earth, will irrevocably love us in a way that endures. He comes to us. We have never given up his love. It is too great, even in the times, you didn't think he cared. He brings back your life full circle. He does love you! He will chase you around this God-filled place and seek your heart's desires. He wants to share happiness with us. No job is too big or small for this Heavenly Father. And if he does small, like this, a beautiful place of creation-- God's artwork--in Maine, imagine how he does it big… like in the Kingdom of Heaven...
That's the way I felt leaving Ohio and heading out for a two-week adventure with my family. A trip of a lifetime set out before us. Taking our hearts ransom and never returning all of the pieces.
I never knew God cared so much about me. I knew he cared about civilization. But me? Really? So much that he'd get to know my heart and all the little pieces in it and how they yearned for a simple life? So much that he knew the cold ocean and seafoam raised up a spiritual connection within me that made me feel creation's brink? So much that all those slammin' screen doors, and unforgiving hardwood floors, in the oldest part of our country, were waitin' for me on the East Coast? That---my dear friends is a mighty God. He's mighty because, out of all the crazy things in the world he could be wrapping his fingers around, in that moment he chose me... and he said, "You've been dreamin' of this a long time Sis, your time is now."
When the highways changed from Appalachian foothills to steep 'ridgy' hills, I knew we were not at home. As my eyes gazed out the window, the lyrics"Breath; come and breath on the coals of my heart may your fire start.." blared on the radio and it soothed my worry. As each special new skyline lined the horizon my heart got even more thirsty for what was to come.
After a quick visit to Gettysburg and a glance at the battlefields in the rain, we made it to our first real stop--New York. I couldn't believe we had made it. Michael's Aunt Linda and Uncle Fred made us a place to sleep and we shared a home for 2 or 3 days and soaked it up. Uncle Fred is an intelligent man. A man whom you trust your life with. A man who may remind you of the house rules-- but you love him anyway. A kind man who reads you deeply-- not just because he can, but because he wants to. He is precious. He is good. Aunt Linda is perfect. She, oddly enough, is like a cough drop for a sore achy throat. She's not a honey lemon cough drop. She's the good stuff. She's a cherry cough drop. She is sweet to the core and makes you forget about the sad things and the bad things. The things that dry up your throat. And when she's gone, you realized how much you forgot to thank her for soothing you.
We hung out with Mike's other side of the family and visited Sandy and Thorman. Aunt Marci came and visited too. Mike's Uncle Thorman was unlike any man I've ever met. He too, is so good. We took a train into the City; as neighboring New York towns call it, and we arrived at Grand Central Station --like shiny new gifts. We were proud. SO PROUD! Time to explore New York City. Time to wear out our shoes, hail taxi cabs, and eat at a real delicatessen that was in the movies.
When we visited Ground Zero, I will never forget the silence that crept in while staring at the infinite waterfalls, consuming the monuments. We looked up and envisioned where the towers would have been. Where the plane must have hit and then pictured the pandemonium on the sidewalk that day. We cried. We then ventured over to the bay to look at the Statue of Liberty. I looked at Mike and told him, " that's where it all started Love. Your family came through that tiny Island on a boat, from Italy. That's where you got your start in this Great Nation". We smiled.
We left New York and went to Boston. We stopped at Salem, Massachusetts and I relished in the history. I relished in some of the oldest roots around that area. I even made him take me to a grungy CVS parking lot. There in the back of a busted up lot was a section of trees gathered in a patch. A rocky prominence carved the sides of the surrounding oddly, in this pharmacy parking lot, and there it was. The real, recently discovered site, untouched for 300 years; the Gallows. I mourned for a moment... and then off we were to another location.
When we crested into Maine my heart lept out of my chest with force! The sign flashed in front of my eyes, and there it was "Welcome to Maine! The way life should be..." Really? Could this be an honest reverie? I started to cry. We made it! As I whipped out the map and looked at my sleeping child in the back I thought, "This is how God sees me. He sees my weary heart along for the ride and he just keeps on driving. He keeps on persisting. And then he shows up; the final destination."
As we made it to York Beach, Maine, I begged Mike to take me to the Nubble Lighthouse. We drove along the curvy road and saw many rocky-ledged-homes wedged between thrashing, tall waves, and forever-- a horizon awaiting to be discovered. It was beautiful. More beautiful than anything I could have pictured. The waves crashing on those hard, marbled stones, was like the fiercest symphony playing a soundtrack to my life. For such a time as THIS! This was the moment I was born for. To be a seafarer. To feel the cold windy breeze blowing my hair on the sides of my face, to close my sweater together tightly and cross my arms, to gaze into the endless waters thrashing about.
This was... me.
The lighthouse is a beautiful, simple, white farmhouse with a red roof. It is positioned on the perfect island. Impossible to touch, but just on the edge of tasting and it's a beautiful sight. I truly cannot describe what I saw, at that lighthouse. It was a piece of heaven touching the waters. It was fierce. However, it was also simple. We climbed down the rocky ledges and gazed up at the monstrous rock the house sat on. My heart stopped. This was the view on every postcard. Every idea of Maine is this lighthouse. I still have to pinch myself to reveal that I really, was, there. The next morning we visited it one more time before moving further up the coast of Maine and we were blessed to see a wedding being performed on the rocks. How beautiful.
On our way up the coast, we took the scenic route. We passed little cedar-shingled houses with old green ford trucks pahked with Lobstah' traps in the back. We visited Rockland, Freeport, and Ellsworth. We ate lobstah' rolls. We were happy.
When we finally made it to Bar Harbor, my heart settled into a shocking state of utter Joy. I thanked God many, many times over. The air was chilly our first night there. We had to wear Jackets! We bought London a jacket at the LL Bean store. It was a good thing! August 1 in Maine is like fair weather here in Georgetown. It was breezy, cold. Our Inn was called the Coach Stop Inn. An absolutely charming place. A primitive, colonial cottage nearly 200 years old. It exceeded our every need. Glass jars lined the window, an old stove as a serving buffet and iron hardware on a heavy wooden door, greeted us. We unpacked our bags and drove to the Harbor. That's when God said, "Pahk the Cah". We giggled forever over the Maine accents. It filled our hearts with warmth and goodness. Bar Harbor smells like blueberries. It saturates the air with thick aromas of blueberry lemon whoopie pies. It smells like sweet desserts, blueberries, and the Sea. I still couldn't believe we were here. I still wanted a sign from our Father God that this was his treat and not our mistake. The fruit of the Spirit was Joy for that day. Surely goodness!I ventured into a shop. A bright blue piece of glass drew me near. As I reached for it with eager fingertips, my hands trembled. I recognized the tag. There on the tag laid the name of Brown County's own local glass reFactory. It was hanging in a gift shop nearly 1100 miles away from home. What's funny is I was looking for a sun catcher, because I had given my glass reFractory sun catcher back home away to another family who left the area in a move ...(I love that family with all my heart by the way).
I couldn't even comprehend God's love in this very moment. He chased me down. He ruined me for anything else second to him in that very moment. He knew just how to reach my heart in the most intimate encounter. He joined the life I loved to live. The life I wanted to love. He was a part of it. He was there. He wanted me to stay for a while and soak in the ocean life and Acadia National Park. He wanted me to spend time with my Aunt Sherry who randomly was in Maine on vacation the same time we were. He wanted me to smell blueberries and eat rustic lobster bisque. He wanted me to see seals and bald eagles on our boat trip. He wanted us to "Pahk the Cah" and stay awhile. He wanted this because he loved us. He saw no little thing was too simple. I realized that he, unlike any other being on Earth, will irrevocably love us in a way that endures. He comes to us. We have never given up his love. It is too great, even in the times, you didn't think he cared. He brings back your life full circle. He does love you! He will chase you around this God-filled place and seek your heart's desires. He wants to share happiness with us. No job is too big or small for this Heavenly Father. And if he does small, like this, a beautiful place of creation-- God's artwork--in Maine, imagine how he does it big… like in the Kingdom of Heaven...
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