We have been camping on the west coast of Canada these past days. I grew up camping and for me still there is nothing quite like it. Having nothing else to do but just be and marvel at the masterpiece of creation. Eating simple food and taking naps. Lingering and making eye contact. Surrounded with the ones I love the most. Being still.
I read my oldest two the last few chapters of The House at Pooh Corner on the beach at bedtime. I cry at the end and struggle to get the words out. Liam asks me why I’m crying and I say ‘because Christopher Robin has to grow up but he doesn’t really want to, not quite yet.’ Even though he just turned eight he nods and says ‘Oh I see’ and I think he really does.
And we take a hike to a mountain lake and I carry my three year old on my back, hard uphill the whole way. Then we hit a flatter spot and she meanders all by herself, full of determination. There are tons of irritating little black flies in everyone’s eyes and ears and nose that threaten to suck the joy from it. But instead I know I will remember swimming in the cold lake at the top so clean and clear that the trees are perfectly reflected with my baby hanging onto my neck and the rest of my loves splashing around.
Towards the end I sit with Aaron at the picnic table overlooking the ocean eating the last of our supper. The kids have all finished and ran off to play with the other kids on the beach. (There is an epic pirate adventure being lived out with sticks and rocks and sunshine and time.) So we toast to our pizza grilled cheese and laugh about our fancy date. I tell you that you are looking healthy and you are, a tan on your face and the sparkle back in those blue eyes the colour of the ocean I fell in love with.
We watch the most beautiful sunset I think I have ever seen. I think about glory spilling over that the heavens cannot hold, onto earth. A broken belief in me is changed to one of abundance and something is healed.
