You have circled this mountain long enough. Now turn north... Deuteronomy 2:3

I wouldn't call it a mountain, this place we've circled. But I agree it's time to turn. Bye-bye 27th street. See you later "multiple trips to Market Basket" to get two more items I've got to have, that I forgot I needed four hours earlier when I was in there. Adios Netflix and Hulu who steal our time.  See ya in July, yippy dogs of ours. 

We're saying sayonara to southeast Texas for a spell. We're putting down the rat race baton for a while.  Jason has pastored First Baptist Nederland for five years and the church has graciously provided us a month long sabbatical. 

I'm feeling extra loved by our church who lovingly gifted us, before we set out on our journey,  with good, good things including a rotating S'mores fork that will be put to use immediately upon arrival. And I'll take pictures. 

We're headed to Colorado; a place where there's not much cell reception but I can have all the fried burritos I want. I plan on reading, writing and swatting flies.   I'm going to watch lazy seeds from cottonwood trees float on a breeze. 

I'm going to wrap myself up in a light jacket, in June mornings up in the mountains. Afternoons, I'll be warmed by a sun that seems higher than in Texas, though it's rays still reach me.  

It won't be like usual summers, I pray. 

I came up with terms long ago to describe summers as compared to the schoolyear. The schoolyear, for us, is routine chaos. Summer is chaos (minus the routine). Both "chaoses" consist of going and doing, with few of our activities bearing lasting importance. I hope to do little going or doing, once we park our trailer in its numbered slot. Mostly I plan on having no plans.

We're headed North. 

 I want to become an empty page, leaving space for God to write. I'm asking for ears that hear his voice over the noise. I will listen for his quietness. 

 I pray I'll be one who welcomes His interruption into my dreams (even fried burrito ones).  

I've packed light, making room for plans he has stored up for me.  

I want to soak up the beauty in creation and be reminded of his majesty. I want to see that which I typically pass over. 

I want, in my minutes and miles, to be aware of his presence, instead of filling time and space with worry that strips me of joy and finicky pleasures that don't last. 

Out of the north comes golden splendor; Around God is awesome majesty. Job 37:22

I want to bottle up what's there; both cherishing and sharing the gifts before me. 

We're heading North. 

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