The Family Road Trip

It started with my visionary husband's idea for a mercy ministry that integrated financial advice and the gospel in a biblical way. Over a year ago, he decided that he wanted to get the curriculum and training from the Chalmers Center to implement in our church and community, and none of my "Honey, let's just do the raising kids thing for now" would phase him. Last year he wanted to go, and I said, "Please wait for next year." This year, the training was at a church in Normal, IL. He would take vacation time to go. Maybe I would go with him. Maybe the kids would go with us too. But this would be the summer trip. I did not want this trip to happen, but sound doctrine being the wonderful thing that is, I realized that my job as a wife is to help my husband fulfill his mission in life and not the other  way around. Since he had decided to do this, I needed to encourage and support him as cheerfully as possible, and not kick and drag, because that doesn't glorify God and it ain't fun for nobody.

I looked up Normal, IL. It appeared to be about as uninspiring as its name suggests. Our only summer trip opportunity - no mountains, no beaches, and no historic sites, just a mildly depressing, flat, midwest town. Then it occurred to me to check how far Normal was from Caleb's mom's house - where we had never yet visited in our seven years of marriage, because we'd been having babies all that time, and the drive is eleven hours. Waukegan was three hours away from Normal - and that became our trip plan. Take two days to drive to Grandma's house in Waukegan, with enough days at her house for Caleb to be with us before and after the class, the children and I stay with her while he drove to Normal for two days training, and then came back for Sunday and her birthday which conveniently occurred on the Monday before we left for another two day trip back. It would be an adventure, and I knew it would be utterly exhausting. I'm already tired from doing the three kids thing at home. But that made me pray about it a lot, which was a good thing. And the closer we got, the more I was determined to go, because I didn't want to miss that time together, however grueling it was.

When we told Caleb's mom our trip plans, she said "We could go to the lake!" I knew that she lived somewhat near Lake Michigan, but I didn't realize it was only six minutes away from her house. As I thought about it, the whole trip began to take on a new color. I would be able to relive with my children childhood trips to Michigan to my grandparent's farm, which was also not too far from the lake (on the eastern shore). Every summer time, my heart feels a compass needle pointing north, tugging me with longings for the region of my birth and of my happiest memories. I would try to be content to tend the garden in our West Virginia country home, only dreaming of aspens, pines and clear, cold lakes twinkling in the light of long northern summer days. Because of the way our trip plans had formed, these feelings had not been part of it before. I knew we would have to drive through Chicago to get there, and I didn't realize that the beauty of the north country lay beyond it. But Waukegan was beyond what I had expected in similarity to Michigan, and during that week, the children and I went to the lake three times - once with Grandma and the baby, and twice just by ourselves - and every time there was such joy and beauty in it and a refreshment of spirit hard to describe.

Caleb never went to the lake with us. And I had learned to know him enough that I didn't mind. Sand and water does not spark joy for him, and he had other projects to complete. He had decided to clean out his mom's garage which had suffered greatly from the influx of adult children's apartment clean outs on top of multiple teacher's job switches and classroom clean outs. I marveled at his servant's heart that was not only content, but cheerful to entirely miss trips to the beach in order to spend hours upon hours in dust, cardboard boxes and the discovery of random memorabilia. He really got as much joy out of that garage clean up project as I did from the shining stones and sparkling water of the lake front. And he and his siblings were able to give his mother a massively improved and organized garage for her birthday.

One of the difficulties of the trip was our vehicle - a 1999 Chevy Malibu, which is neither large nor new. We all fit in it quite snugly. I had our local auto place give it a tune up before the trip. The man did his best and then advised me to rent a car for such a long trip. We looked up rental options, even explored the possibility of purchasing the long anticipated mini van, and then decided to go with our car anyway. That is, until our pastor, who loves all of his little church family quite a lot, heard it, and said "You're not doing that. Take my car" (which is just as small, but not as old) and we let him make us do it. Traveling in that car made us feel the love and care of our church family with us all the way. And while we wanted to have a safe trip for our family in any case, it was especially matter of gratitude that we were able to pull into our driveway a week later with the loaned car in need of no repair but a good wash.

I wanted to face this challenge because I knew it would help our children to grow and mature by facing extended situations outside of their home routine and provide more practice for my husband and I in fulfilling our marriage roles. We got more time together in those hours, and hours, and hours on the road and at rest stops with excruciatingly long potty breaks with children and a nursing baby, to learn to bear with one another when we were so tired that we kept making poor decisions about when and where to stop, to encourage instead of criticize, and laugh with one another; to exercise repentance for failures in kindness, and to simply love being together in the bond of grace that carries us through difficulties together and forgives and enables forgiveness. This was truly sweet and God's gift.

I have so many good memories from our trip - memories of beauty, and of lessons learned. One of the beautiful memories was the time we spent off of the turnpike on the way back, driving through the heartland of Indiana and Ohio in a beautiful golden evening. We had left the terrors of Chicago traffic far behind and now passed farm after farm - old family farm houses and community churches and grain elevators and train tracks and mown grass - and Amish country with its horses and buggies and hardware stores and a young courting couple on bicycles. I felt that I was seeing America the way it had been and always ought to be. There really is nothing like the American road trip. I don't know how long our land will endure. I know it won't be forever. But while it lives, it has been a blessing to belong to it.

The time Caleb picked the hotel on the way back, and instead of the cheap hotel with the poison ivy tree by the parking lot that we had stayed at on the way out, it was (to my weary mind) a towering white castle of rest that he had provided for us.

Final mentions: Audio books:  Swallowdale by Arthur Ransome carried us over many a mile, alternating with WORLD radio podcasts. The Swallow series are such perfect summer trip books. The prize for best car snack goes to clementines, which provide air freshener, hydration, carbohydrates and entertainment all in one appealingly rotund golden package. Psalm 90 and a pillow in front of my face carried this country girl through rush hour Chicago traffic (and looking out the window at the faces of the other drivers who seemed un-fazed by their proximity to certain death) The more time I spend with my husband's family, the more I love them and the more I am thankful that I got to be married to the best of the lot ;) Two days after getting home, we are still exhausted and paying off our sleep debt, but I wouldn't have traded this trip for a week of 8 hour sleep nights. Some things are better than sleep, especially when you have the assurance that "All the way my Savior leads me".