May-bert Family Hike: A Culmination

A couple of days ago, four of us set out on a trail to Crystal Lake. We were staying in a house just down the road from the trailhead, and Brandon discovered it one morning. None of us had ever been, so we decided to try it. My brother, sister-in-law, husband and I (the Mayhew's and Gilbert's, aka May-bert's). It was not a fourteener, and we barely had to drive to get to the trail, so it was hard to see it as a serious journey, in comparison to some we've done in the past. It was exciting, though, because it was new to every one of us. We were anxious to see what it would be like and where it would end.

About eight months ago, the same four of us began a journey together in a similar mindset, not really knowing where it would lead. We merged our two families together under the same household. It was exciting, in a way, because it was new. At the same time, it didn't seem like such a big deal because we all knew it would be a temporary situation. I doubt any of us knew the magnitude of the lessons we would learn from life and from one another during this transformational time.

As we started up the road, the path was wide but also steep. There was plenty of shade from trees along both sides of the trail. When it comes to anything requiring physical exertion and the four of us, I will finish (mostly because I'm stubborn), but I will finish last. At the beginning, though, I was feeling really good and I led the way for a while. We were enjoying ourselves, looking at exotic wildflowers, the birds-eye view of Lake City and just spending time together. We knew it was a four-mile hike that would gain 3,000 feet, but since none of us had ever done it, it was difficult to judge how close we were along the way. After crossing water and hiking next to a meadow for a while, we entered a narrow trail through a grove of Aspens. It began to get tougher, longer and though it was beautiful, it was a little harder to enjoy with less oxygen.

We talked off and on, but the longer we went, the more silent it became. I began to wonder what the other three were thinking and then began to think about the journey the four of us have been on for a while together. When Brandon and I moved our family into Josh and Shauna's home, we definitely had expectations for what was next in our life, but not necessarily for this 'stop' on the way. We were (and are) beyond grateful for their generosity and the sacrifice of opening up their home to us, but there was no way to anticipate what we would gain, which has already exceeded our non-existent expectations.

There was no way to know that during the time that we were here together, we would all experience some of the toughest times we ever have. In our marriages, within our own individual struggles, in parenting and in relationships with family. We had no idea we would need one another the way we have. We did not realize that this 'stop along the way' was really full of purpose and God's perfect timing, in a way we never could have imagined. This really has been one of those moments that you recognize that the journey is actually the destination.

As the hike got harder, we would stop along the way to rest, make sure everyone was ok and would frequently change positions in the order in which we were making our way to the lake. There were many different kinds of terrain to maneuver, including dirt covered with Aspen leaves, large rocks, smaller gravel, trees that had fallen across the trail, and ALL of it was uphill.

The one constant that has remained, other than the obvious constance of God's presence, has been our dependence on each other. We have made ourselves available, encouraged, provided accountability, advice and always pointed each other to Christ. We have each taken our turn to lead by initiating tough conversations or follow by simply offering a listening ear.

God has gifted each of us in unique ways. Josh has an innate sense of direction, a great ability to navigate situations and read people and a strong, confidence that can lead and figure out a way. Shauna is strong, recognizes her weaknesses and dives right into working on them without fear, and is disciplined in health, studying God's Word and prioritizes her husband and son, with a deep desire to serve them. Brandon has such a sense of discernment, compassion for people and passion for truth to be exposed and shared. I just want everyone to get along and love each other, and I'm determined to see and help others see that no matter what happens, we must keep going. These unique areas of gifting have come into play on this 5-hour journey, as well as the 8-month journey. We compliment each other and help the others see a fresh perspective that isn't always easy, but it's definitely worth it.

As we continued along the path, I suddenly knew that this part of our journey together will be coming to an end soon. I don't know how it will come about or the day or hour, but I know that it's coming, and it is almost unbearably sad. As we were hiking (myself panting) up the trail, tears began to roll down my cheeks as I came to the realization that we will not get to have this amazing opportunity to be so geographically close forever, not even for much longer.

Finally, after 2 hours and 45 minutes, we arrived to what I can only describe as an other-worldly paradise. Crystal Lake was absolutely still and provided a perfect reflection of the beauty encompassing it. Not another soul in sight and only the sounds of wildlife kept us company. There was an island in the middle of the lake that looked like it was right out of a storybook. We sat at the picnic table to devour our food and then spent some time exploring, relaxing and just taking it all in. Brandon laid on the table and took a nap, Shauna took off her shoes and put her feet in the water, Josh took pictures and I walked around trying to decide what I would do if I encountered any huge wildlife. It was the epitome of escape, if only for a little while. Then, it was time to leave. The clouds were rolling in and the thunder was getting louder, and we knew we had to start back down. After a couple of group pictures, we begrudgingly gathered our stuff and began to make our way back. Out of this utopia and back to reality (as 'real' as Lake City feels anyway). We commented on how hard it was to leave such a beautiful place and then like a switch went off, our mindset changed. We had reached the destination, the high, and the direction our thoughts now took were about what time it was, how long it would take us to get back, would we get caught in rain? The BIG unknown of the journey was over and now it was just finishing what was left. We did encounter some rain, but most of it was shielded by trees. We also fought crazy swarms of mosquitos, to the point where Shauna and I looked like our arms had transformed into propellors and it's a miracle we made it down without losing our balance and getting seriously injured.

Once we made it down, there was a great sense of accomplishment, a satisfaction in the discovery of something new and majestic and an irreplaceable memory that symbolized, in a nutshell, what an incredible journey we have been on together. We are a family, and we will make so many more memories in the future. We will go through lots of ups and downs, mountain-top experiences and valley lows. But there will never be another day or another hike exactly like that one. When I think back to the night before, I was seriously contemplating not going. I had mosquito bites that were making me miserable and just didn't feel up to it. How sad it would have been to miss it! It reminded me of how Satan strives to distract us and redirect us from the journeys God would have us take. Although it may seem difficult or even impossible when you're standing at the bottom and looking up, the tougher the task, the greater the reward.

the pre-schooler in all of us

I watch my 3-year-old son and my 4-year-old nephew interact with my 10-month-old. They are so loving toward him and in awe of him. They fight over giving him hugs and kisses and giving him toys and food and other things he doesn't always need. It's usually really sweet. Until he interferes with their plans or their stuff, as babies tend to do. Then, they are ready for him to go. "Will you pick him up and take him away?", they'll ask. He is no longer welcome in their play area. Often I will see the older boys sit in front of him with a toy and start playing with it, within his reach. The next second they are whining to me that Luke is trying to get their toy. It's so logical to me that the wisdom of that move was absent when you brought the toy and put it right in front of him and then expected him to not reach for it.

Sometimes I get frustrated and cannot understand how it's possible that they don't see the cause and effect relationships at play here. Then, I begin to see how we, as adults, do many of the same things. Let's take change, for example. I tend to welcome change, but only when it's on my terms. I love to move furniture around, try a new restaurant, travel and try new things. I don't even need a rigid, structured schedule all the time. However, if there is a plan in place and someone attempts to change that plan, especially at the last minute, I am not a happy camper. I like follow through, I want people to do their part and I want to stick to the plan. I, I, I sound like a pre-schooler, as if the world revolves around me.

We say this a lot at our house. There are times when I need to say it to myself.

Another instance is the temptations I allow into my life. Just like the boys want to be close to Luke and play next to him, they really don't want to share with him or let him get too close. I do it with food. I sit by the bag of chips long enough to finish them, knowing I don't want the consequences of that but I just get too close and sit with the temptation. I do it with exercise by sitting down and getting involved in a project, TV show or book instead of intentionally putting on my running shoes. I do it with my quiet time, by keeping my priorities in close proximity to me. My phone, computer or the remote is most likely within arm's reach. My bible, however, is usually on the shelf and not the first thing I reach for.

So, when I am tempted to become frustrated with my 3-year-old because he doesn't 'get it', I am reminded that there are times that I don't either. Or I choose to ignore it. I remember that I sometimes pout when things don't go my way. I can be selfish and particular about details that aren't really important. I even mindlessly put things in front of me that I know aren't good for me and will not yield the results I want. It helps me to remember that I, like Calvin, still have a lot to learn about life: letting things go, treating people as more important than plans and being kind and generous is always a good idea.

Don't growl in the house...

It's amazing...the things that you say, as a parent, that you never really imagined yourself saying. We are living with my brother, sister-in-law and 4-year-old nephew right now. Sometimes we will be having a conversation and just stop for a minute to think about what we're saying. It either sounds crazy or somehow doesn't make sense.

Here are some recent ones that come to mind:

"Why are you peeing on the floor right in front of the toilet?" (yeah, just happened tonight. and there's no stopping it once it starts.)
"Thank you so much for telling me you need to go poop in the potty during dinner!" (sincere.)
"Growling is for outside, not in the house." (cort and calvin make horribly loud and annoying growling noises, pretending to be who knows what animals, monsters, etc. it gets old fast.)

Then, there are the things you say that remind you of your own parent. *Gasp* Even though it's perfectly logical that we would use the same phrases that we heard growing up, we are somehow surprised and disgusted that we sound like our parents did.

I guarantee you, Joel and Jonathan, when you have children of your own (which better be in a million years), you will tell them to "make wise choices" and "live for the glory".

I tell Calvin "Don't be ugly". Even as I type it, I'm laughing, because he can't help how he looks. Of course, that phrase when I was a child was always in reference to having ugly behavior or an ugly attitude. That's not how it sounds, though. I probably say something to this effect to my 3-year-old every day.

When I lived in South Korea and taught, I got to teach with some awesome foreigners from all over the world. One day, we were in between classes and sitting at our desks (where the adorable Korean children constantly came to talk to us). One of the little girls was putting on quite a show. When she left, I looked at my co-worker, Ita, and said "She's such a ham!" Ita, who is from Ireland, gave me a funny look. Not too much time went by and I said to Ita, indicating another student "He's such a turkey!" This time, she said "Why do Americans refer to kids as odd animals or lunch meats?" Try explaining those expressions!

I think one of my favorite things about being a mom is watching the moms in my life with their grandchildren. I love listening to my mom sing songs to Calvin and Luke...some she sang to me when I was little and some she didn't. I love watching my mom-in-law play with my boys and joke around with them. I think it's beautiful, because it is relaxed and the agenda is fun, period. Our parents couldn't completely relax with us, because they had an important responsibility and a job to do, and thankfully, they took that seriously. Now they still want to point their grandchildren in the right direction, validate them and protect them, but they get to enjoy their time with them a bit more because the ultimate burden does not fall on their shoulders.

Nonny & Calvin were hunting sharks with balloons in their safari hats and nerd glasses. I hope I'm a fun grandma like Nonny someday.

I wonder if, as parents, we intentionally took time to really just have fun with our kids, what difference-if any-it would make? If I took time to pretend and make-believe more often, would it teach Calvin that it's ok to have a big imagination? If I took time to make a really big mess with them, and not only refrain from saying anything about it, but not even allow myself to think about how long it might take to clean it up, would it teach them that time together is more important than keeping things clean and orderly? If I more often made spontaneous plans to go do something fun and different, as a treat, without feeling the need to thoroughly plan and prepare for every activity, would it teach them to live for the moment and to delight in the unexpected? If I didn't put pressure on myself to make the best and correct decision every single time when it came to my kids, would I be a better parent, free from the chains of perfection? I probably would be more relaxed, more pleasant to be around and healthier overall. We can't let grandparents have all the fun, right?