beach talk

I am back. And have not stopped feeling like the big pink rabbit that calls itself the Energizer Bunny yet. As soon as I got home, the van had problems (literally, on the way home, but that's for another post), doctors appointments were waiting each day and there were plenty of other things to keep me busy - and only right now have I stopped and remembered that I need to tell you of my trip...

My lovely trip started early on Friday morning - as in we loaded up all the kids to take me to my friend's home before 8am. I was jittery and excited and my wonderful husband could barely keep up with my chatter-box jibber-jabber. My oldest spent a long weekend with my parents and my younger two had some glorious Daddy Days that they are still talking about and savoring.

On the 6-ish hour drive to the ocean I talked to my two friends. But not just talked. I mean poured out my heart and soul like purging drugs from one's body. I was headachey and shaky and felt like I was detoxing from the stress of the past months. I had compassionate ears and loving hearts in these two women, both moms of boys about my son's age. And so I poured and poured and poured out. I do not know how they tolerated it. Yes, I listened as well, and it was conversational, but I did a lot LOT of talking. If they were not such precious Godly women who listened so willingly, I'd have felt bad about it. But they at least acted like they wanted to hear what I desperately needed to talk about. I assure you, there is no human counselor or psychologist or other therapist-type who could begin to meet the need they met for me. They had insights that not all peers could offer, as well.

Once we settled into the 20th floor condo overlooking the pristine ocean, I found time alone in my room to lay across my bed - thinking surely I needed a nap. But no slumber would find me. Instead my eyes slowly leaked tears as I was able find words to speak to my Heavenly Father for the first time in weeks. It was not that I'd been angry at Him, or resisting Him, or ignoring Him. Quite the contrary. I needed Him desperately and knew it. I have just not had words that I could utter. I needed the Spirit to intercede for me. My eyes would glaze over when I would open my Bible. My world was so insanely complicated I was lost. I could hear my mom pray on the phone with me and I'd weep in pain for my son's needs and a longing to help him and fix whatever was wrong, but no words could fall from my mouth.

I intended to take my Bible with me on this trip, but I forgot. And honestly, I just loved being still and knowing God in those moments, rather than trying to play catch-up on months of reading. He came to me, He met me, He had been with me all along - which I knew - but I felt His presence so closely it ached.

We ate a ritzy restaurant that first night, created to feel like a balcony setting with outdoor lights and phenomenal food. The kind of place you might see the President at (apparently, he ate there once). And then we sat up very, very late and talked girl talk and laughed ourselves silly before succumbing to the sleep that was grabbing at us.

The next morning, we took our lazy time with breakfast and coffee and getting ready for the beach. Then we sat before the vast ocean, collected shells, talked, avoided jelly-fish, and talked some more (they swam or jogged, I waded in a tiny bit, but I'm not an ocean-lover, just a feet-digging-into-sand-while-watching-the-ocean-lover). We left the chairs and umbrellas while going inside for some lunch then meandered back out when we were ready, doing more of the same. After we'd had our fill, we took our time cleaning up, chatting, and getting ready to head out for souvenirs and dinner (I absolutely had to find fun things for my kids). King Crab was the theme of the night, which had been my pick since I never get crab any more. It takes too long to finish while the kids are sitting by waiting impatiently. Another late night with silly talk and serious talk and droopy eyelids followed.

Sunday morning we slept in (mostly me), cleaned up the condo, had some Starbucks, and did the rest of the souvenir shopping before heading home. Decadent is all I can say. I succeeded in getting the requisite souvenir shirts, sharks tooth/sea shell necklaces, ball cap for the hubby, and some changes-colors-in-the-sunlight fun stuff for the kids (rings, key chains, nail polish). I even saw some amazing prices at the hotels down that same strip and we're going to check the budget to see if we can swing a few day at the beach with the kids soon.

We arrived home drowsy and content - the kids were asleep and I could barely unpack my bag. Another day would have been heavenly, but it was nice be with my husband, kiss my the faces of my sweet kids and sleep in my own bed.

I have felt hopeful this week - crazy busy and longing/looking for the right help for my son, but hopeful for the first time, not just beaten down with endlessly trying. I think we're on the road to some answers, though it will still take a bit of time to be sure it's the right road. In the meantime, I'm ready to keep trying rather than throw in the towel.