Gentle Readers, or those not so gently reading at this time of the year....
January is a tough, old bird, isn't it? It's cold and dark, even in Texas. Many of us are trying to get back into the rut of routine that drives our lives forward. Many of us have decided we want to change one, two or ten things about ourselves and we are slogging full speed into new destiny. Our mantra, "twenty one straight days is all it takes to form a habit that will finally transform me into something perfect." The stars are still in our eyes, even as the cold and dark bids us to let be.
I am born in such a month as this. A tough, old bird welcomed me into a world swathed in white and dirty grey. At almost forty-four, I wonder, do babies born in January exhibit just a breath more strength than the rest? We arrive right in the midst of chaos without even the sun to give us a cheer.
This week, I was thinking to myself that in the three years I've lived in Texas, I haven't driven myself farther than say, 70 miles one way. Can you imagine that? I've been driven to some places but I've never had any reason to go myself more than an hour away or so away from home. My first few weeks in Utah I drove 375 to Boise through unknown territory, with a ten month old in the backseat and no fear in my heart. My first week in New York, I drove 500 miles to Ohio with two young boys in the backseat, excited for my first opportunity to go home by car. Again, brand new terrain, and anticipation pounding the pavement with every turn of the tire. And, here I am, having never really taken a journey in all this time? The truth is, my life has become so small in one of the biggest states in the union. I am enslaved to something that keeps my life very full, of nothing that matters.
I decided, like many others, to make a change, shaking off the mindset that what I live is all there can be, I am charging full speed ahead with stars in my eyes, toward a new destiny.
Operation: Dinner Out is a go. (IYKYK)
In case you do not know, I will offer some illumination. One of my favorite movies happens to be, Spy Game. (Yes, I cannot fathom how someone well aged can have such allure, but Robert Redford, well, he was blessed to be handsome and full of charisma for the big screen.). In this movie, two unlikely people form a bond and this scenario, an operation, is used twice in the film, both as a gift and as a rescue.
Dinner Out is an adventure this year of my own making. I am facing the start of new chapters in my parenting journey. I am going through the trials of aging as a female that takes a long and doubtful time. I am considering if I am worthy to be one of God's own, consistently struggling to find His family amidst the exhaustion of life. I am entering my 20th year of marriage to a man who I wed as a different version of myself. It is time to sign the contract of tomorrow and rip apart the contract of yesteryear.
Operation Dinner Out began this weekend, of all weekends, the closest we might get to experiencing winter in Texas during this season. Dinner Out will consist of at least one night of camping per month at a new State Park during this calendar year. Our boys are welcome to join anytime, but it will likely be mainly just Ryan and myself as our they work weekends. After our family camping trip over Thanksgiving which felt like the close of a chapter, so beautiful and bittersweet, we had to discard our family tent that we had during all of our married life. For this journey ahead, we bought a new, not too expensive tent that will fit in the bed of a pickup truck. Quite easy for setup/take down, which is exactly what you want if you are camping one night a month. It needs to be easy to be sustainable. We have one air mattress that will fit in the bed around the wheel wells, and it is close quarters and fairly comfy. (Don't worry, should the boys join, we have other options available.) Every park should have hiking and probably kayaking, to free the mind of the day-to-day and learn to be still.
I booked Meridian State Park two weeks ago in preparation. It was not easy to find a reservation despite that there are 88 parks in Texas. January is the month to go, eh, when it's less than 115* in the shade. Ryan and I had to drive two hours northwest but it was doable on a long holiday weekend. The park is small but lovely with a lake that had quite a few fishermen despite the chilly temperatures. Several were in waders out in the water and I personally would have put my foot down on the one, while it was around 60* with the sun out, the wind was already blowing bitter. We hiked a few miles, found two geocaches (I got to clock my first ever find....I'm not too good at buried treasure but the rest of the pirates in my house are sound.) and my favorite part was sitting on a bench, surrounded by a forest of dense cedar and listening to the wind. The trees still bear green leaves or bristles, I can't quite be sure what it would be called, and the branches cracked and ached with the wind. With every swoosh and crack I heard over and over, "I lead you and restore your soul. I am with you. You will dwell in God's house forever." What restoration!
We spent a lovely evening putting up the tent and making the best campfire dogs we ever tasted, but we knew early on, it was time to bed down. The winds were atrocious and the temperature was dropping by the minute. We walked to the bathroom, prayed it would be enough to last the night; we climbed into our tent, shut up the flap, and watched a movie together, refusing to take any liquid refreshment. The wind tore at the tent and the temperature continued to plummet, reaching mid teens in the early hours. As you might expect, because your body simply lends toward betrayal, we awakened in the darkness needing to relieve ourselves. I did not want to go out of the cocoon, even though I was already chilly, I knew it was worse out there. My brain propelled my body from the tent but my emotion kept me from walking too far. It's 15*, I have one shirt, one sweatshirt, two hats, gloves, sweatpants, socks and shoes and it might as well have been nothing. With zero percent shame, I relieved myself there, in the woods, with the truck in sight. It took so long to get back to sleep, I tossed and turned, listened to the wind, felt the wetness of the blankets with the building condensation, and said: brilliant idea, Ang, brilliant idea.
We packed it in around 0830, lasting longer than many of our neighbors, but without our campfire coffee and breakfast. Sometimes you just have to call it. I've spent the remainder of the day trying to recover; it's cold even at our home, because Texas houses aren't built for cold temperatures. I've a work trip this week which requires I drive to Dallas which is about three hours away. I don't want to go, for more reasons than one, but one reason is the drive. I used to be braver than this. I used to take life by much more storm, but my soul has mellowed.
I think Dinner Out is going to be a beautiful thing.
I think it will be both a gift and a rescue for this heart.
May it bring peace to the mind, the beauty from nature, healing to the soul, and deepen the bonds of relationship.