Travel

Blogging from the USO

August 4, 2014

Today, I’m blogging hello from a USO in the Portland airport. I have exactly thirty seven minutes before we need to head back to security, remove our shoes, and hope that we don’t contract some sort of fungal foot disease as we walk barefoot through the scanner that peaks through your clothes.

We are headed to Alaska— a random adventure that felt right at the end of the summer. Molly is just old enough to wreak utter havoc on an aircraft and Mike was looking for an excuse to wear pants with unnecessary zippered pockets.

Last night, I spent 90 minutes strategically packing for the baby, counting and recounting her outfits and diapers and ounces of sunscreen.  But when it came time to prepare my own provisions, I remember setting aside a bathing suit, one pair of jeans, hiking boots, and a beanie before growing exhausted and resorting to an episode of White Collar while I painted my toenails. Packing is my nemesis. I always pack light, not because I intend to, but because I lose interest and assume Mike will redeem the situation by letting me share his toothpaste as I brush my teeth with my index finger.

About once a year, Mike and I try to get to a place without many people that has mountains and sunshine and a pocket of silence to explore. We find it absolutely necessary for us to find remote places to sigh deeply and eat granola bars at scenic lookout points. Most of our relationship can be narrated by strategic conversations we had at high altitude, with gravel stuck in our shoes, and a sunburn spreading across our cheeks.

We are not taking a computer with us this week.  This is easier for Mike than it is for me, but I find that I can waste a listening time on production if I’m not careful. It takes a concerted effort for me to choose to be present… even when Alaska is on my front door step.

So here we go on this listening adventure– through security and onto a plane and into a pocket of silence where we can listen and encounter a God that waits for us in the places we choose look for Him.

I’ll see you next week, hopefully with fresh words that I heard in Alaska.