Every Road Leads To Somewhere

Roads are traveled, some well worn, some less traveled. The earth is wrapped and weighed down by the trail of roads.  They intersect with one another, giving travelers options and connections. I am on a road, and I know you are too.  We can't stay in one place. We travel. We take steps.  Place to place, town to town....one journey to another.

Cement roads, dirt roads, and trails take us places, but there are also the spiritual highways that blaze a road on our hearts and minds. 

Sometime we know where we are going, and other times we don't.  On some roads we take people with us and enjoy the company.  On another road we may leave others behind.

Some roads have unexpected detours, and it isn't quite what we had in mind.  Definitely not what we dreamed of and find ourselves waking up and wondering how we even got here on this road.  

Sometimes the road is long and seemingly never ending, and it would be nice to just park for a bit. But rest is hard to find and there is a "no parking" sign in view. We wonder if this road we're on will ever end. It's the one that requires an extra dose of endurance. A hope in Someone Greater, who can make sense of the road we're on, praying He will one day help us understand why we had to take this road.

At times the road needs a face-lift and construction slows me down to a halt. It's painful to wait and wait and wait some more. I know where I want to go and I'm ready to get there; however, there is a submission to the one holding the sign.  I must wait in line until it is my turn to move. At this point I have decisions to make...will I sit in my car and complain and stew about the kink in my plans or get out of the car to see what is going on ahead as if that will hurry things along?  If I only knew what was ahead, had a little more information, I think I can figure out a way around this standstill...another route of my own. 

Or I can wait patiently. What a novel idea! 

I can sit back and enjoy the company of those on the trip with me. The ones who are my traveling companions, living life with me, watching my cues of how to handle these types of travels. 

Trusting we will make it to "somewhere" at the right timing. 

There are signs along the way.  Signs that may distract us from our initial route and destination and prolong the journey; however, pit stops are needed at times.

And then there are SIGNS...signs that weren't there the day before.  Creatively displayed for your spirit to see and God to speak...

But what about Dead Ends?  Some roads end.  They seem to lead nowhere.  Brent and I had lunch in Homer this week, and we drove out to the Spit where the road literally ends.  The end was something beautiful.  Maybe nowhere means now-here!

The end of the road might be mistitled.  Instead of dead, it can be full of beauty and the start of new life.  We often don't know the purpose behind the journey that lead up to an end. We just know we traveled the best we could and came to that point.  We can feel as if we have failed or missed our turn or we can trust that God had His reasons.  It's time to turn around and head back the same way we came, but now we know more.  Now we travel on the other side of the road with a different view.  Dead ends still lead us somewhere. 

(Just don't forget to grab some halibut fish & chips and salt water taffy before you head back.)

Every road we travel presents us with multiple choices and decisions along the way, and naturally consequences and lessons follow.  The decision may be as simple as where to go to lunch or it can be large enough to change the trajectory of your life.

Is life really about destinations?  
Getting somewhere? 
A stop that tells us "we made it"! 

Maybe I've been looking at life all wrong. With an end in mind.  Finding my place in this world. Proving I made it.

Perhaps the "somewhere" is something here right in front of my eyes.  It's the way I adapt to the winding roads of the south. The steadfastness on long, straight, never-ending northern roads carving off my impatience.  The wait building my trust on the Solid Path.

Life can be defined as "the capacity of growth and continual change preceding death."

I guess if we aren't growing and continually changing, we're not living up to our capacity. We could be declared dead. 

Every road does lead us somewhere.  It may be a long road, a tiring one, a foreign one, a rough one with lots of pot holes, or you're waiting to gas up.  The roads vary.  We travel alone and intersect with others at times, but still a road is before us. 

The question is: am I giving this particular road I'm on permission to grow me and change me for the better, allowing the purpose of the travel to do its thing?  Or am I the child continually hollering out, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

Maybe it is better said,

 "Every road invites us to experience the capacity of our lives." 

I like that better!

The Other Bluff

I grew up on a bluff and then I married into one.

Funny it is - to live my entire young life looking out over the bluff and then later to find an intramural softball umpire who was also a bluff dweller.  It was a match made in heaven. He spent his summers on a bluff in Alaska, fishing below with his entire extended family. I was quick to snatch up and reel in this fisherman and make him my husband. 

It felt like home when I first visited the Alaskan bluff - very similar to my native one yet the view was a bit different.  While I grew up overseeing the beautiful Boise valley and river below, this bluff was the front row seating of scenes I'd never seen before.

Cook Inlet it's called, with bald eagles flying overhead, indescribable backdrop of Mt. Redoubt, beautiful spacious skies, purple mountain majesties...it's everything the song describes about America!

Since I married this bluff dweller fisherman, I had to learn the ropes of being a commercial set-netter.  This type of thing was new to me, but it did help that I had some previous tractor experience.  It was an adjustment at first, a stretch at most, and after nineteen years, I have just as many memories of this bluff now. Moments that have shaped me. 

Brent's grandpa, Wendell, always said fishing was a gamble, and he was sure right. But that doesn't stop us from coming up to Alaska even with the odds against us cause it's much more than fishing around this bluff. 

Fishing is what brings families together.

It's about learning the family trade and being a valuable contributor to the team. Just by working side-by-side you learn things about your grandparents and aunts and uncles you never knew before. You hear their stories while sitting for hours at the net racks. A priceless gift of your own history.  

It's about enjoying the unexpected surprises...like the swoop of a Bald Eagle grabbing a snack for the day or a Moose sighting with her baby... It's a time to stop and watch life take place in front of you.

It's about nestling up in Grandma's lap...

It's about having plenty of time for a competitive game of cards with Grandpa...

(Isn't there a heavenly light that shines over your grandpa?)

It's about working together as a family....

And treating yourself to fine dining...

It about three unrelated walks of life becoming family...

It's about running to Tesoro for dessert. It's celebrating just to have an excuse to gather up the family and eat more dessert.  It's about capturing a photo of a great catch...(my catch is the photo bomber)

It's the joy of watching our children explore the world, get dirty, use their imaginations, play barefoot all day long, pick flowers, and hunt for valuable Agates on the beach because that's what great grandma Mamoo did!

Alaska is about unwinding, taking deep breaths, sorting through thoughts, absorbing small ordinary moments usually unseen in the hustle and bustle. I come to find healing and rest for myself, to let my heart honestly feel the array of emotions I've hidden inside. They are free here. I don't have to keep stuffing them and trudge on. I have nowhere to go.  It is safe for me to let go of them, handing them back to God as an offering and allowing Him to teach me valuable lessons through them. 

My hope is that I'm a good student. There are lessons I really want to get this time, once and for all.  Some lessons are repeated ones cuz I can't seem to get over myself and into God's hands.  It will be hard work, but I'm ripe and ready this time.

Alaska couldn't come at a better time.

I'm not just a country girl from Idaho, but I'm an Alaskan set-netter now.  And one thing I know about fishing is....when the "run" is here and you have more fish than you think you can pick and your fingers are swollen and you think your back is going to give out any minute, you dig deep and keep on picking, knowing the reward is greater than the aches and pain of the work being done. It's the struggle and heartache and work that gives it such worth.

Here's to fishing and all that fishing brings this season!

Permission To Land

Last month I wrote about Ecclesiastic Times - that there are seasons of life, and JULY means it's "time to fish"...

It's a long journey from Atlanta, Georgia to Kenai, Alaska even when you're flying. 

Nine hours of flying time and 4,450 miles (almost the same amount of miles if we drove across the U.S. and back again), a lay-over in Seattle, and a three hour lay-over in Anchorage because there are no flights going to Kenai at 1:30 in the morning. 

So we bundled up on the couches in the airport nursery with our 14, 12, & 9 year old babies and took advantage of a little shut eye before our 30 minute flight to our Northern cabin-home in Kenai.

At 4:30 am, the five of us boarded the 18 or so seater airplane, with a new excitement, and burst of energy knowing we were minutes away from our destination. 

The girls asked if this was the type of plane that crashes. How do you answer that question? It felt like we were in a banana with wings. One propeller motor started right up. Why wasn't the other one?  Stay calm.  I could see the pilot.  He looked confident like he knew what he was doing.  I'm trusting he knows what he's doing.

We take off. It's loud, but I knew this would be a beautiful flight just a few thousand feet above the ground, overlooking lakes and the Cook Inlet nestled next to Anchorage. Of course, it is light at 4:30 in Alaska on a summer morning.  It is dawn. The sun is just about to peek its head over the high peaks of the mountains. It won't be long now. This long night will finally end... 

Then all of a sudden the plane turns around as if it is heading back to Anchorage. I look back at Brent to say,"What's going on?" Maybe the pilot is getting a better angle to land? The pilot announces that we have NOT been given permission to land due to fog. Everyone in the plane looks out the windows to see what is keeping us from our destination. 

Fog? I could not see any fog. I could see the amazing snow capped mountains in the background. I could see the oil docks right next to our family's fish-site. What are they taking about? I didn't understand!

The pilot informed us that we had enough gas to circle for about 10 minutes and hope the unseen fog burned off within that time. Otherwise we would have to head back to Anchorage. What! Did this pilot understand that we had been traveling for over 14 hours? 

Then I look at my girls with a very calm and loving demeanor and explain gently what the pilot is saying. I give them a picture of a flexible mom, fully confident in the ones who are in charge. I let them know it will be okay, and we will eventually make it to our destination.  

I turn away from my girls faces and look out the window, fighting off worst case scenarios in my mind.  A little self talk helps - I have to trust this pilot and the "powers that be" who are completely in control of my life right now.  

All I can do is look out my tiny window over the wing.

The sky lights up even more signally the approaching sun. A parade of lights and colors. 
It is coming. The plane turns around again. The plane circles repeatedly and each time it turns back toward Anchorage, I am gifted with a new glimpse of the rising sun. The sky and clouds change colors each time, and each time I try to capture the beauty of it with my cell phone through the dirty window. 

We probably circled the same area 10 times, and it was much longer than 10 minutes.

I've complained that I don't get to see the sunrises & sunsets at my home in Georgia as our house sits down amongst a crowd of trees.  Just the other day, I had the girls grab a popsicle and follow me up on the roof of our house just to see a small glimpse of sunset between the trees at that moment. I was desperate. I didn't care about the mosquitos. This was important to me.  Now Ava frequently asks to go up on the roof to eat popsicles or play games!

Looking out the window, God says to me, "You want to see a sunrise? I'll show you a sunrise...and you can see it over and over and over."  Ten times to be almost exact. 

At that point, I settled into my seat to enjoy the ride and appreciate a moment I've been longing for. I accepted the fact that we may not arrive at our destination in the timing we thought. God had a detour, and I let my spirit embrace it. It was freeing. Giving up control does that. I had my precious family with me, and that's all I needed.  

Once I found value in the situation, I was able to trust that the pilot was making the best decision for us. 

We circled again, and the pilot announced that we were finally given permission to land! 
I couldn't believe it. We were more overjoyed to land now after circling for a half an hour. More grateful and excited than if we hadn't circled. More appreciative of our pilot. So thankful for him!

We have this natural inclination to want things to be easy and smooth sailing. We want to get where we want to go.  We have plans laid out and within our timing.  We like the safety of being in control.  But God's ways are higher than ours and sometimes his lessons are too. He gives us detours in life which create confusion for us because we can't see the unseen. We can't see the fog.  We feel like we're circling, going no where but really God is molding us, shaping us, pruning us, and teaching us to rest in the Pilot's hands. 

Kevin Myers from 12 Stone church says that physically we go from dependence to independence, but spiritually we go from independence to dependence. 

As we were landing, I could see the runway clearly through the front windshield of the plane. There was no fog in sight. Did God just blow that fog away in His timing just to give me some extra time to learn a lesson in His classroom above?  

I wondered until the assistant pilot told us they could see the runway the whole time we were circling....but there was fog over the weather station who was calling the shots.  Even though the pilot could see the runway clearly and could safely land the plane, he had to follow the orders of his authority.

Sometimes God gives us the clear vision to see where we are going, and we are ready and anxious to get there, yet God says to wait. Are we willing to wait a little bit longer, circle again to catch another glimpse of Our Maker's beauty and majesty and power.  To know Him in a new deeper way that would anchor our hearts in future storms and detours. A stripping of independence that moves us closer to complete dependence and trust in the One who will grant us permission to land in His perfect Ecclesiastic timing and season.

At 6:00 am (Alaska time) and 18 hours after leaving our home in Georgia, we arrived at Azarel - the fish site established by Brent's grandparents, Wendell & Joyce Honea, in 1961. 

Our entire family is so grateful God gave Wendell and Joyce permission to land in Alaska!