Today I am heading out with my two teenage daughters on a winter road trip. Or, more accurately, a winter road-boat trip. We begin with a trip to Bellingham, WA, to see friends and meet up with my oldest daughter and her husband. Tomorrow early, we cross the Canada-US border, and travel for another day by car and boat to reach their home on the waters of the inland passage of BC. The last leg of our journey is a three hour ride in small boat, hoping to arrive before dark with our luggage and supplies.
Road – boat trips are the best. I love to travel, and the thought of conquering international borders, ferries, winding roads, and small boat travel to reach my destination is thrilling. I am glad I am not making this journey alone, glad for experienced boat drivers, glad for the company of my daughters and my son-in-law.
Because of the distance and length of travel to see my oldest daughter, I am taking ten days for this trip. My therapist stated that I needed the rest and refreshment – the dead of winter in a remote location with all the comforts of home (except cell phone service) seemed to be a great idea.
Exhaustion has been my companion for many months. Maybe even years. Recently, it’s all I can think about. My need for rest. My need for refreshment. My need for quiet, peace, time to breath, time to be. I pray that this time away, with people I love, in a place that is filled with God’s presence, will tip the scales enough to bring my soul and spirit back into view.
I am bringing a few books, my journal, my knitting. We will play games, cook, sleep and look out on the beautiful ocean, mountains and woods of British Columbia. I will see eagles, seals, and other wildlife. It will be quiet, the kind of quiet that comes from a place where there are no roads or cars, deadlines or burdens to bear.
It is a road trip into my soul. It is a journey into my spirit, the winding roads into the depths of me. My hope is that the borders of my heart that are so carefully guarded will let down the gates and allow God to travel in, without a passport, to speak in a language my soul will understand. That the waters of God’s Spirit will bathe my wounded heart, will become a balm to me. That I will have a time of not forgetting myself, a time of remembering who I am created to be, that I am Beloved.