Ocean Wide...

I have loved Sea World for as long as I can remember.  But, let's be real.  When we all piled out of the mini-van, today, I had a brief moment of panic in the parking lot.  The thought running through my head was, "I don't know how to do this without a stroller!"

I keep saying it.  This era of life is strange and sad and wonderful all at once.  There are no more babies (that's the sad), and yet there is a certain freedom in having kids who are growing up (that's the wonderful).  I was starkly reminded of this truth when no one... absolutely no one... cried when we met Shamu!  OK.  I can do this without a stroller:

So... some highlights from our day...

New experiences are always a welcome treat when your family has sort of mastered the art of Orlando vacationing.  Both Turtle Trek and Empire of the Penguins opened after our last Florida trip, and "Clyde and Seamore's  Sea Lion High" also recently made its debut.  We enjoyed all of these, although we do miss those pirates.  Grace decided to feed the sea lions after the show.  I was super proud of her.  I cannot touch dead fish.  She was amazing:

Experiences that are new for some and old for others are great, too!  It occurred to me, at some point, that Caleb had never ridden any really big coasters until today.  I'm not sure how fair it was to throw him on Kraken and Manta, but he loved them!  Miah also experienced her first roller coaster ever, The Shamu Express!  And here I have to admit that I am having a slightly embarrassing mom moment, because I have roller coaster pictures of everyone but Ian.  Don't worry.  He'll make some ride shots as the weeks go on:

And then there are the perennial favorites that keep us coming back, time and time again.  The first one on my list is petting the stingrays.  That was an adventure all its own this time around, because Miah was really interested.  Our other kids have not been quite as excited at this age.  We had a fabulous time:

Underwater viewing is always a big hit, too.  The best pictures I have are from the Manta aquarium, but the best experience, for me, was probably with the dolphins.  There is something about that exhibit that takes me back to trips of years past... and here I go, feeling all sentimental again...  There might have been a few tears.

It wouldn't be our trip if there weren't some snags along the way, so I guess you probably don't want to know about how we didn't ride Journey to Atlantis, because they wouldn't let us on without our shoes, or about how Ian had the nosebleed to end all nosebleeds while viewing New Horizons, resulting in some barrier crossing and a first aid guy and clean up crew who were exceptionally nice, if far more thorough than this "suck it up" Mom.  You don't want to know, but you do, because as these kind people were providing Ian with gauze and ice packs, I was taking pictures and Ian was saying, "Mom, you're not going to blog about this, are you?"  We had a good laugh over that one.  It still wasn't as bad as when he fell off the bleachers at the Shamu show when he was almost two:

We're heading back later in the week, because Sea World is a two day park for us.  Stay tuned.

L.

P.S.  I wonder how many people sat on balconies in Orlando, tonight, and watched the Hallow-Wishes fireworks show set to the Imperial March...  Oh, wait.  That was just us?

P.P.S.  Oh yes, the all day dining deal.  If you have to pay for it, don't do it!  It came free with our package, so, you know, it was food.  It was more food than we needed, and because I just can't deal with waste, we now have more chicken and fries in the hotel refrigerator than I really want to admit.

Pictures Taken Today: 282 (That's Better)!

Some Things...

… just don’t work out.  And it’s OK. 

This intersection is, perhaps, the best reminder of that, for me:

As I sat down to write, it suddenly occurred to me that I don’t really want to re-hash the story.  I thought I would.  But I don’t.

I hope Phil doesn’t mind that I made him turn around to get this picture for such a short post!

L.

Famous Last Words...

For years I have picked on Phil.  This is how it started.  Early in our marriage, we made not one, but two, moves across the country to Idaho… and back.  There are a variety of stories I could share, and they’d all be good, and they’d all be true, but for the purposes of this post, I will share only one…

It was a simpler time in life…  a time where we were young and ready to take on the world.  I can remember on at least one of those trips, I was reading the Anne of Green Gables series for the first time.  And I was sort of caught up in that picture perfect, fictitious world when we drove through Iowa.  In the back of my mind, I could see us building a little house, nestled in the hills along the highway… raising a family there… being very happy.  It was beautiful!  At some point, I must have made mention of this to Phil – not in detail, but something like, “I would like to live in Iowa someday”.  This was met with immediate resistance, because, as it turned out, Phil would never, ever like to live in Iowa… ever.  But every time we drove through Iowa, I loved it.  And nothing changed for him.  He thought I was certifiably crazy…

I can’t begin to tell you how many times in my life I’ve heard someone talk about how they were willing to go anywhere… anywhere… except “that one place”, but that’s exactly where God sent them.  When we landed in Iowa a few years later… and loved it… both of us… we started making silly comments like that, as well. 

Through the years, when we would sense another move coming, we would actually say things, in jest, like, “I never, ever want to go to Jamaica!”  Very funny… I know…  Funnier than you might realize, actually…

And I’m not superstitious or anything like that… and I legitimately don’t think God is sitting somewhere, unattached from our present reality, just hoping to send us somewhere we honestly don’t want to go.  But I started making a concerted effort to not say things like, “I never want to live in Lincoln, Nebraska”.  Oh my goodness… did I just say that out loud?

I’m a different person than I was all those years ago.  The truth is; I have come to terms with the fact that anywhere can be home if you’ll let it be.  And I was ready to go anywhere… almost.   

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, there has always been this one place I would prefer not to go.  I mean, more seriously than Lincoln.  And we had an interview last week.  And I kid you not, 11 minutes down the express way I found myself sitting in the most dangerous city in the United States… several years running… the city in which I will buy my groceries if we go there.  The only words that really came to mind were, “It serves me right”.  When I uttered these words, Phil got quizzical, and I just burst out laughing.  I mean, I was never, ever going there… ever.

It’s probably a little too late in the process, at this point, to start singing, “Please don’t send us to Africa,” or anything like that…

But who knows?  Maybe we have been prepared for such a time as this…

L.

Panem et Circenses…

This post.  It’s been coming for a long time.  I’m not sure I can get it all out, eloquently, but it is what it is.

For weeks, I had Caedmon’s Call’s song, “High Countries” rolling around in my head.  So much so, in fact, that I picked up C.S. Lewis’, “The Great Divorce” and re-read it some dozen years after it first crossed my path.  And the theme that just kept playing, over and over again, was a question.  “What are you holding onto?”  And maybe more accurately, “What hell are you clinging to at the expense of heaven?”  Ouch.

It’s not so easy for me to get “comfortable” with my surroundings, and I think that what I’ve learned about myself over the past couple of years is that if I do get comfortable, I dig my heels in.  And I’m not going to go around lamenting everything that’s happened in that time frame or living with regrets.  The truth is, I should have dug my heels in when I did.  But maybe I’ve let them drag for a little too long at this point.  I’m human.

A stark reality hit me the other day, and I almost hate to admit it, but here goes nothing.  I’m comfortable here, but I don’t love this place.  This is how I know…

Let’s take a little trip back in time – oh, say, 2002-2003 or so.  I loved where I was then.  I was committed to ministry.  I was committed to my community.  I was committed to ministry in my community!  Oh to re-capture the early twenty-something, girl on fire, taking the world by storm mentality!  But this is the more important thing - I would take walks on a regular basis and pray for the people who lived in the houses I was passing, even though I didn’t know them… even if I never saw a result.  I don’t think I have ever done that here, and I’ve lived here more than three times as long.

I’ve had a tendency to wax philosophical in mid-late July these past few years.  I think that maybe, just maybe, it’s the never-ending circus music or the smell of funnel cakes that causes this.  They repulse me.  And I know… I know… I just lost half of my Facebook friend list, but stay with me.  I was not made for Circus City, U.S.A.  I know that now.

Miah and I took a walk downtown the other morning.  We walked through the blocked off streets, quiet with fair rides and deep fried food that wouldn’t be available for hours.  For a variety of reasons, we took this walk when no one was there... when it was empty:

And I asked myself questions.  “Why don’t you love this place, Lisa?”  It’s been “home” for almost six years.  “Would you feel differently about this place if you grew up here?”  Maybe.  “Wait – why would you want your kids to grow up here, then?”

Life has always been more than bread and circuses for me.  I’m not satisfied with inconsequential means of appeasement.  I’ve been told that I’m never satisfied, and it’s probably true.  You cannot distract me by meeting my immediate, superficial requirements.  I don’t pacify.  And if you think, for one moment, that this is an easy life to live; think again.  The easy life is the one consumed with the ride.  And the truth is - you can’t reach those people.  They’re not ready.  They might never be ready.  Please don’t misunderstand.  Rides can be fun… for awhile.  But over the course of a lifetime?  I’d rather take a journey. 

Now, if you want to hear an honest to the core confession, I don’t want to walk away from the memories here.  I start to tear up if I think about it for very long.  But I think I need to let go now.  I don’t want this place to define me.  I don’t want to embody this theme.  I don’t want to “fall to pieces” over something shallow when I could have something solid.  And it’s harder than I think.

Next week I’m going to have the opportunity to spend an extended amount of time in a place where my life was shaped, formed, and changed forever.  I need that.  I’m really not looking for a “do over”, but a fresh start would be nice.

It’s been a good ride:

L.

 

May All Your Days... Be More Than This: