Prone to Laugh

I felt that maybe we should have been wearing a label.

"Prone to Laugh." At everything.

In January, at a Mission Conference, I discovered that Sue Gilmore, a Capernwray legend, would be speaking at a woman's conference in Canada in May.

I sent out an email, would my Capernwray girls like to go to Canada?

Johannah was having a baby in March, Canada would not be realistic.
Chrissy was going to Disneyworld, in the opposite direction.

But Traci and Sara were up for the adventure. So we went.

Sara picked me up, whisked me out of a mind-bogglingly stressful May, and drove me up to Seattle to Traci's house. Somehow, I shed 20 years in the drive. Life became a thing to be laughed at again.

We left at 5am the next morning and headed for Thetis Island. A journey including 2 ferries and lots of driving and much laughter.

This is Capernwray Harbor. Unbelievably beautiful.

We saw Sue within minutes of arriving. She was surprised and astounded and happy to see us. And she somehow made us feel like we were AMAZING women for braving the journey to visit her, when really, the AMAZING is all on her side.

As a speaker, Sue was hilarious and challenging. She has lived her life for Jesus. Unabashedly. She is full of the joy of the Lord. She is feisty.

This is our little cabin in the woods.

If I had a dress or a pair of pants that I wore 20 years ago at Capernwray, I wouldn't be able to fit into them. Life has changed the shape of me. I was immensely relieved that I could still fit into the psyche of a young girl laughing at life. That with Sara and Traci, the core of who I still was rose up and asserted itself....even though Traci and I were asked how many grandchildren we had, by an obviously seeing-impaired elderly person. Even though I was asked if I home-schooled because, "you just look like a home-school mom." (Good to know. I obviously wasn't showing my tattoos and body piercings off enough. Probably because I don't have any.)

Trying to escape "Grandma"

And when we told people that we had been to Capernwray together 20 years ago and they replied that we had just given away our age. Traci piped up, "Oh we were very young!" and I backed her with, "We changed each other's diapers." Sara had to think hard about this comment, because we did so many wild things at Capernwray, she wasn't sure if I was joking or not. I was, but the three of us were laughing....laughing.....laughing.

I was glad to get home. Glad to see the faces of my kids.

But I also felt, that in a sense, I had left home behind me. That those girls, that place, that sound of laughter, was my home. That snuggled next to my friends, telling the stories of our lives, singing around the campfire, downing dessert, laying on the dock, worshipping God, listening to Sue and her English accent, were as familiar to me as my daughter's face. And just as dear.

Artistic Therapy

I know I am an artist because I like to make smoothies that match my outfit.

Today I coordinated with cherries, vanilla yogurt, and a banana.

I sat in the sun on a reclining chair sipping my hot pink drink (out of a straw) that matched my light-weight hot pink sweater, and I was comforted.

I needed comfort because hot pink is a trying color for my complexion. It brings out the bags under my eyes, and in general, my face is not perky enough to compete with hot pink.

This last month has been a harrowing kind of month. An analogy may be helpful. Today, on my way to pick up the oldest two from Algebra 1/2, I noticed a flowering tree that I particularly enjoy the scent of. I got excited, for a moment my face matched my sweater in general cheerfulness, I inhaled deeply. I inhaled again. Then I realized that I was in a car, going 60 mph, and the windows were up. The tree was about 1/2 mile behind me when this realization hit.
Ah yes, I am going too fast to appreciate anything!

May is a wild, bronco bucking kind of month. I find I hold on best by indulging in artistic vents.

I have recently put in a large order for tablecloths from April Cornell. Tablecloths which will go on the outside table next to the reclining chairs. Tablecloths which are smattered with large hot pink roses. If you drive by my house in May, you will probably see me sitting there in my hot pink sweater, with my matching drink and tablecloth and sunglasses (did I mention the sunglasses?). Please look the other direction, I will be normal again soon.
Relatively speaking.