Howl like a coyote.

Three weeks ago, the littles and I set out on a cross country trip back East  to fundraise, meet with our board, meet with mission teams who will be coming this year and some who came last year, see friends and family and play a little along the way.  J and Grandma E flew in and met us and flew back out as quickly as they landed.  We had a great trip, ministry wise.  We met with a church we hope to partner with, I spoke at a church we already partner with (who has a team coming out this summer) and J met with several key players who are involved in our ministry.

Personally, it was a difficult trip.  The girls didn’t want to take the trip to begin with, Little Man doesn’t remember much about living back East other than that’s where Gan, Pop, Nana and Papa live and there’s a beach.  He remembers our house when we pull up…mostly because he knows its right next to Nana and Papa.  Mouse told me while we were packing she didn’t want to go back East because she didn’t want to be where everyone looked like her.  She sobbed as she told me she didn’t want to leave her sheep, her dog, her friends or her home.  Sissy didn’t want to leave either.  She was worried about leaving the sheep and horses, they were worried about not having the freedom to run and play and they didn’t want to miss any time at the churches we work with. When I got ready to pull out, I hugged J and started to cry.  His response, “I’ll be with you in a week.”  My response, “Its not you, I don’t want to go.”

“I don’t want to go.”

I never thought that would be in my vocabulary when we left the island.

I didn’t want to go for many reasons, mostly I didn’t want to go because I didn’t want to leave my people. My family here.  While I was excited to see people back East, I knew that seeing the mesas each morning, missing the transition from winter to spring, watching the birds come back to my living room window and missing three weeks with the ladies I’ve grown to love working with through co-op and Sunday School would be almost unbearable.

My gut was right.

While there were good things during our trip, the kids and I missed home miserably.  Little Man kept asking when he could go home and play in the dirt.  When could he go home and see his sheep…

The girls kept asking how many days until they got to see the dog, the sheep, Grandma E and Masani…

When we crossed the state line on Friday night, three minutes from home, my kids began howling like coyotes.  Yesterday, they played outside from 9 am to 5 pm and only came in for snacks, lunch and water breaks.  The were enjoying the freedom of our life here, the freedom they’d missed for three weeks, a freedom we didn’t realize they needed until God brought us to the Rez.

I learned a few things on our trip though…

My kids and I are made of tougher grit than I ever imagined.  Five days driving cross country, as the only adult with three young children, is not for the faint at heart.  I faced some tough news as we were preparing to leave and while my beautiful friends were by my side, all I wanted to was to be home…and home was five days away.  We did it though.

I realized that my kids are really pretty great human beings.  Notice I said, human beings, meaning they aren’t perfect…they are kind of amazing though. They were road warriors on the way to and from.  On the drive in, they were already missing home.  On  the drive back, they were past the point of missing home and had moved on to misery.  Nonetheless, they were troopers.  We had very real conversations about what our drives would look like each day, we worked together to make a plan for when and where we’d stop throughout each day and there may or may not have been multiple rewards along the way for excellent decision making. (There might have been Starbuck’s cake pops involved in one stop daily.)

My husband is my best friend and my most precious gift aside from my salvation. Life is hard.  Being a parent is hard.  I was reminded of how much joy it brings me to know that we’re in this together every. single. day.

God confirmed something I already knew but tend to take for granted on this long haul.  He has given me, literally, some of the most gracious, loving, gentle, kind, selfless, inspiring, non-judgmental people to surround myself both near and far.  I can’t imagine doing life without each of them doing life with me.  For that, even on really hard days, I am so thankful.  My heart fills up each time I think of the goodness in the people He’s given me.

Lastly, I learned that He unequivocally wants us to do life in relationship with others. We aren’t meant to walk this road alone, friends.  He has given each of us safe people, people we can share our hopes and dreams with, people with whom we can acknowledge our worst fears, people who will walk us through the really dark days and rejoice alongside us on the really sunny, bright ones.  Finding those safe people isn’t always easy, sometimes we have to wade through really deep, murky water to find them.  Sometimes, those people seem to fall out of the clear blue and others walk into your life without you understanding why or how they came.  All the time, though, He’s giving us the gift of relationship.

If you are struggling, find your people. If you are walking through life effervescently without a care in the world, find your people.  Wherever you are in your walk of life, find your people.

Howl like a coyote and find your people.  Either way, there’s joy abundant.