I am a Dumbass

Note: I tried to post this last night, but we were too far off the grid. Sorry for the delay. I will try to post some pix later today, hopefully from Idaho.

ANTELOPE ISLAND, Utah -- Any idiot should have been able to figure this out. The physical toll from a week of nearly non-stop travel. The stress from a series of near catastrophes. A car/home in need of a thorough cleaning and general upkeep. Plus, Marley wrestling with an extra dose of hormones – and I say that matter-of-factly not disparagingly in the least. It is what it is. And me, still recovering from an emotional crucible on Sunday.

It all so obviously added up to a much needed down day. A real Day of Rest. Otherwise, you’ve got a cocktail more dangerous than any Molotov. Any idiot could have seen that. But clearly I am not just any idiot.

No, instead we pressed on Monday. We had an imaginary schedule to keep. On the surface everything was fine. But every time Marley and I tried to talk about the events of Sunday conversation trailed off into uncomfortable silence. Things were strained between us, which is so very rare these days.Trying to process a day of magnitude while traversing dizzying high-altitude passes in a 30-foot RV is probably not the best idea in the world. We were stressing. The kids were stressing. The roller coaster was hitting a gut pulling low after the soaring highs from the day before.

But we soldiered on. Until everything melted down this morning. I was wrung out, Marley was wrung out. Recriminations were flying. We were on the verge of disaster. Everything was falling apart.

And then…

And then something magical happened. Instead of descending into a death spiral, I reached out to my wonderful, amazing, crying wife and I held her. And then we prayed. At first the prayer was awkward, clumsy, unsure. But it steadily became more open, honest, naked.

We allowed ourselves to let go of our angst-bombs that were ticking, ready to explode and just surrender our brokenness to God. We acknowledged our inability and our lack of strength and asked our heavenly father to pour out His ability and His strength.

And suddenly, the dam burst. Crying in each others’ arms in the very heart of the Heart of Gold we made amends first with God, then each other, and then with our kids. We laughed, we hugged, we cried some more. Noah, returning with his sissy – who as part of God’s very gift to us – had been just outside giving us just the privacy we needed to work through all this, stepped in asking innocently, “are you alright now?” Oh yes, we were definitely all right now.

The fog had lifted. It was a new day.

And so we didn’t rush out of Utah in a blaze of dust. We lingered. We had breakfast for the first time on this trip in a restaurant. A waitress brought us coffee. We had seconds, even though it wasn’t very good. We left when we were good and ready. We laughed and smiled and finally talked as we drove along the byway.

We did not make it to Idaho, but instead Marley found the coolest of diversions. For the first time on this trip we are actually camping. The place is Antelope Island in the middle of the Great Salt Lake.

We got here by early afternoon. We hiked out over half a mile from sandy beaches across salt flats and into the water to swim in its cool brine-filled waters. Like the Dead Sea, the salt is so thick here that you can literally float on top of the water if lie flat on your back. We cooked steaks over an open fire as the sun set behind distant mountains dancing red across the water. A pair of coyotes stalked rabbits a few hundred feet away, eventually disappearing in the scrub brush. As we finished our meal, I think they were beginning their own, howling – I swear -- in long victorious cries as the crescent moon peeked out over a nearby ridgeline.

I like to think that I will never again put an itinerary before the needs of my wife or kids or even myself. But if I slip, which knowing me I probably will, I hope that at the very least I can remember this day and how it so quickly began anew, stripped down and naked before a loving God, broken and healed at the same time.