Happy Monday, Everyone! I’m writing to you from the mobile porch this week (excuse any typos as I’m writing by dictation and Siri doesn’t always speak Texan), as The Prayer Box Book Tour has officially begun. Right now, I am in Evansville Indiana after a fun evening with the sweet folks of Forest Hills Weslyan Church. A big dessert social followed the event, and I wish you could have seen the selection. These folks can cook up some confections!
The best thing though (as always) were the stories shared around the table after the event. It never fails that when you tell a story, you end up getting a story back. Somehow, storytelling is always a fair exchange. Tonight at the book signing table, a set of adopted parents shared the most amazing story of taking their 15-year-old daughter, adopted from Vietnam as an infant, back to Vietnam to meet her birth mother. The photos shared and the story of their feelings as they watched this birth mother hold her daughter, and cry, and then sit down to braid the hair of the baby girl she gave up out of love was a moment I will never forget.
These two sweet reader friends were pretty memorable too. They told me about the “barn quilts” (quilt patterns painted on barns) of Indiana and Tennessee, which we hope to see tomorrow while traveling, if we can work it in
So, this week on the porch, we’re talking about mental vacations. Taking a little mind trip to someplace we’ve wanted to visit and dreamed of spending time. Where would I go? Normally, I would give the answer below and Alaska would be my fantasy place of choice (in the summer, of course):
My dream summer would be an into-the-wild summer. At least once in my life, I’d like to take an extended trip to someplace that’s completely off the map, where there’s no phone, no internet, no appointment calendar, where the days are long and quiet, the hours endless like the hours of childhood, where you go to bed at dark because there isn’t much else to do, and get up at dawn to watch the sun climb up over the mountains. I wouldn’t go there by myself; I’d take all my favorite people with me. They could come and go, I guess, if the technology detox was more than they could bear.
But after tonight’s adventures, and taking in some wonderful stories from readers, I think my mental vacation might be too some sort of fantasy camp — Like a summer camp for folks of all ages. What would be so special about this place? No one would be in a hurry. We would all have hours upon hours upon hours to sit around campfires, and lawnchair circles, and picnic benches, and do nothing at all but listen to the stories of one anothers’ lives. Wouldn’t that be the trip of a lifetime?
So there’s my mental vacation for all the minds and bodies out there that, like mine, are busy this week. Close your eyes. Can you hear the campfire crackling, and the rock-bottomed river flowing nearby, and the night birds cooing in the trees, and the insects bleating, and amid all the symphony of God’s creation, the stories he has created in all of us, swirling endlessly skyward?