It Would Be So Nice If Y'all Weren't Here

It was a common refrain in my own head last weekend. But first, a little background...

For about six or seven years, it has been my great pleasure to drive north to the Dallas area to honor Aunt #1 for her birthday. She is the curator of the family museum. While others reside there too, she is the one who maintains the homestead my grandfather built -- and I don't mean he hired a contractor. I mean he held a hammer in his hand, and took a nail from between his pursed lips, put it to the wood and built. his. house. He built it for his young bride and budding family way back in the 40s.

When men were strong. And women were virtuous. And children had respect for their elders.

In the early years of this birthday tradition I started, my efforts unwittingly ruffled a few feathers amongst other family members who only thought to stake a claim on her day at the very last minute (which is to say they didn't bother to call her to invite her to lunch until I had already driven the 200+ miles and settled into the guest room upstairs). But this isn't about that.

At first, the trips were truly all about my lovely Aunt and her birthday. Though I must admit how easily I grew to love spending the night in her home where there is no television and no easily-available internet access.

It is so quiet there. One can hear the Lord in a place like that.

And it surely doesn't hurt any to be awakened in the morning to the sound of her hymn-playing on the piano, or to descend the heavy wooden stairs that are said to have been salvaged from my great, great Aunt's girls' school and installed by my grandfather; there, I am greeted for the day by two of the kindest women I know, just up off their knees after making supplication to their Savior for this day.

When I make this trip, I sleep upstairs in the tiny room my Aunt shared with her younger sister once upon a time, and imagine my father and his older brother in the room right next door. I think about the stories I've heard from those days so many years ago. There's the story of two brothers who couldn't agree on the room temperature and would try to stay awake past the other to either open or close the window to his own liking. I used to like to note the scratching on the door to the boys' room that commanded, "No Girls Allowed," but it's since been replaced, to my chagrin.

I love to move slowly and bend lowly to view the few picture collages that still hang on the guest room walls; I remember my cousins and me the way we were before college or career, husband, hardship and homeschooling.

But perhaps my favorite thing of all is to stand at the top of the landing where there is a window said to be the very one my father would throw open and toss his shoes from in a vain attempt to shush the rooster that awoke him every morning. I'm guessing that is funnier now than it was then.

It didn't take many years of making this trip to realize what a refreshment it was to my soul. A woman who loves her children deeply and spends nearly every waking minute with them can surely benefit from an annual round-trip, solo turn at the wheel. To awaken refreshed to hit the road while it's still morning -- to listen to my favorite roadtrip music at full volume with no need to hear or listen or answer or acknowledge *sigh* it's just nice, that's all.

But this year, for some inexplicable reason, Husband didn't have a peace about me making the trip up the I-35 all by myself. Husband is not a bossy man. If he has a caution, I heed it -- and not only because I'm called to submit, but because I believe the Lord works to protect me through the covering of my authority -- my husband. And I trust his judgment completely.

Husband can also be pretty generous. I know he thought he would rather stay home and scrape the popcorn texture off our bedroom ceiling, but instead he graciously drove the 5 of us to my Aunt's home where we would join the party Friday night and then cater breakfast in for them Saturday morning. Whole grain pancakes, fresh mixed berries, syrup, whipped cream and scrambled eggs on the side. Yum, if I do say so myself.

So, we left on a Friday during the 1:00 hour, swept through Austin with relative ease and then arrived in Temple. Now, Temple is roughly the half-way mark, but on this day it would hold us up for nearly 90 minutes. Parked. People getting out of their cars to see what they could see. Folks four-wheeling down and over the median to make a new route (but we're in our bread-box of a minivan with a low bumper and undercarriage, so we're not following).

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

We have no idea what is going on up ahead -- or how far ahead something is going on. There are prayers spoken for the carnage that must have happened.

An hour and a half later we're thinking that there had better be some carnage up there because if this is TXDOT closing lanes for construction, one (or all of us) is going to have a fairly spectacular hissy fit! When we finally got moving, we saw nothing. No accident -- but no barricades either, so we're guessing we were parked so long so they could clean up the horror of whatever happened.

When I've made this trip by myself, it has taken anywhere from 4 1/2 to 5 hours. So far we've been on the road that long and then some, and we're still 2 hours away!

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

We traveled on, and after calling my Aunt with our regrets about the party that we clearly wouldn't make, we stopped at a Chili's and ordered up some dinner. What large portions! Had we known, we would have ordered half as much and saved twice the money.

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

And then, half way through the dinner she had pined for so desperately in the car, Dumpling decided she couldn't eat. She was tired. I was sure she was about to loose what little dinner she did ingest.

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

Thankfully, she didn't become ill. She truly was just so tired. If we didn't get her to the hotel and onto the fold-out couch fast, we were going to be stuck sopping up a little puddle of 6 year old. When we finally did make it to the room, we got a chance *can you hear the sarcasm* to count it all joy (because sometimes joy is a choice, not a circumstance) when the electronic key for the room lost its charge as we tried to unload the van, and the commode required plunging -- not once, but twice (or was it thrice?). I finally got wise on that one and sanitized the seat so that my darlings could feel free to stop building their little nests with wads and wads of paper.

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

As part of my hotel tuck-'em-into-bed routine, I gave the scary mommy lecture about how truly filthy the bedspread was, "so DON'T TOUCH it!" I checked for bed bugs. I gave the girls closest to the A/C unit the warmer blanket and laid my tired self into a bed that was clearly made up for someone 5 foot tall. I'm 5'8". Husband is 6'3". But, hey! Cuddlebug was comfortable in between us.

*It would be so nice if y'all weren't here...*

Never before has a verse rang so wonderfully true for me as it did that next sunrise:

It is through the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning; great is Thy faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Which is to say that His mercies are new every morning. And it gets better from here. So much better.

We showered, dressed and made our way to Aunt #1's home after a quick detour to Starbucks and then the Walmart Supercenter for fruit, eggs and other fixins. It was a beautiful morning and the house was so lovely. So filled with light -- and Light. It is just nice to be in the company of Aunt #1 and Tia.

First thing, she took her great-nieces out to see the hens and a rabbit and they collected eggs; I remember overhearing discussion about whether to wash the egg with or without soap. After an hour or so, we all enjoyed a delicious brunch together and we eagerly listened to the newest information she had on nutrition and supplements.

Later, Aunt #1 pulled out the flannel-graphs and backdrops painted by her mother so many decades ago and told my girls the story of Naaman and the little servant girl who told her master about the man of God, Elijah. The girls all tried to figure out how she made the paper Naaman dunk in the water and come up cured!

Later, they listened to Fifi play her violin. And we talked. And we felt so loved, and hope they did too.We five -- who can too easily sap any room of all its energy if we stay too long -- left after a few hours ("Leave 'em wanting more!" is our motto) and visited the Sixth Floor Museum at Dealey Plaza because that's where Fifi is in her study of history.

That evening, we caught up with Aunt #2 and Uncle -- you never met a couple who doted on babies better than this one! Of course, we don't have any babies anymore. But Aunt #2 did sweetly pull from her hat, a wonderful meal to share with us and we caught up on some of the changes that have happened in both our families over the near 6 years since we almost completely lost touch. Their nest is empty now. It was very different. Not sad, just different.

The next morning, we attended services at a Bible Church in North Texas, whose Pastor has been a family friend since my conversion in 1997. In our frequent search for a church in our own home town, we've momentarily considered committing to the 5-hour drive -- each way -- to hear Pastor preach. But we're not so completely crazy. We hear him when we can, and he never disappoints. We're encouraged and convicted, and always so glad to have been there.

And then they feed us. Every time we head up that way, we offer to take Pastor's family out for a meal, and every time, his Titus 2 wife is ready with a meal in the oven or the crockpot. She's amazing and I'm not kidding!

This time was especially humbling considering the week they had, and the one for which they were gearing up. Travel, lots of travel -- and time away from one another. But they sandwiched us in, which is better than I'd have thought to do given a minute to think about it -- and I told them so.

As our trip wound to a close and we hit the road under threat of torrential rain and lightning that evening, I reflected on how very much we did on this trip. As a family, we visited with so many of our favorite people.

And I think I was able to say -- honestly -- that it was really nice that they all were here.