Raison de Voyager

DAKOTA RIDGE RV PARK -- Golden, Colorado -- Traveling West on I-70 just before Mile Marker 306 you will crest a hill and suddenly, opening up before you, will be the the great expanse of the Rocky Mountains, the very backbone of North America.

Where for hours there have been only clouds dotting the High Plains horizon, there is now a snow-capped wall of mountains rising sharply into the sky. Seeing them makes my pulse race. Since leaving Germany, where we lived in the foothills of the Alps, I have missed the mountains terribly.

"Denver 24 miles," the sign reads.

Marley has an appointment with Colorado Christian University today, one of only a few schools in the area that offers a masters program in Christian Counseling. So we're moving with a purpose.

The French have a saying: "Raison d'etre," rendered literally "Reason to be." A better translation though is probably "Purpose in life." While I might save such lofty musings on that topic for later posts, it occurs to me that this might be a good time to offer our raison de voyage -- the purpose of this trip -- in more specific terms.

First and foremost, this trip is about building memories with our kids. Perhaps the greatest gift my mom ever gave me was a sense of adventure, formed and molded with many trips both near and far. Her motto: Don't give things, give memories. I want to give our kids that same gift. The gift of rich stories.

On a more practical levels:

There is Chris, Marley's brother, and his bride Shannon who have just bought their first house outside Seattle. Chris works for 1st Special Forces Group at Fort Lewis, Washington, doing things he's not allowed to talk about. He will one day soon, however, leave the Army to pursue a career all together different in computer animation, which will begin with a four-year art school degree. He is a true renaissance man.

And there is Scott, a chaplain, counselor and friend from Germany who has since retired from the Army and opened a private practice in Montana.

And there is Angie, Marley's cousin -- more like a sister, really -- and her husband Brett and their three kids who have all just made a brave move from Texas to Minneapolis.

All three of which we long to see and reconnect with.

Finally, there is also a quiet whisper.

Marley is on the cusp of finishing a Bachelor of Arts degree. An Air Force veteran and fluent in Arabic, she is one of the smartest people I know. Taking a break in her career to move to Europe for my career and begin our brood, she is also what some might call a non-traditional student. Despite her cloak and dagger background -- most of which, she too can't talk about -- her real calling is in counseling. And that calling is becoming an audible whisper. It's time to find where she should get her training. And so we are looking for the best fit.

A school in Seattle has emerged as what appears to be the best candidate. Scouring the Internet, she happened upon Mars Hill Graduate School. It seems a good fit on many different levels, some of which we may get into in future posts. But in what might be described as a wink and a smile from God himself, I will offer this one: Marley only just recently learned that Mars Hill is right across the street from where Chris will be attending art school.

And so, we're checking it out. And, if just to have some basis of comparison, we're looking at other possibilities along the way.

Denver is a major draw because a favorite church makes its home here. We've followed the sermons from Lookout Mountain Community Church ever since a great friend slipped us a CD of a teaching by their senior pastor dubbed Stuck on Jackass Hill when we coming through a particularly difficult period of our marriage. We've been hooked ever since. I visited here about a year and a half ago and for some time now, this has been a place where we have considered putting down roots.

And so, we'll spend the next few days here, visiting schools, looking at neighborhoods, hiking the mountains, attending services -- in general, getting a sense of the vibe.

Yes, the mountains here are awesome, inspiring even. It occurs to me now they've often been the place where men great and small have gone to find -- and often get -- answers from above. Maybe that's why my pulse is racing.