Top Ten Things One Can Learn in an RV

10. Bugs brains really do squish onto the windshield. Usually their bodies are left fairly intact. I’m thinking that we’ll have to do our next Homeschool Science Project on labeling the bugs we are collecting on our giant windshield as we drive northeast.

9. Parking by a highway can produce a kind of white noise that is similar to the ocean. Oh, a train whistle too…hmm…an ocean liner perhaps?

8. I still have an imagination at age 35…I’m pretending that I’m at a resort by the ocean and not parked in an RV Park in the middle of someone’s farm right off the highway…yes. That IS the ocean I hear…not the semi-trucks and the train flying by. Ahh…paradise.

7. I can laugh. I must laugh to get through this ordeal that is my life. The hilarity is vast from pushing my grocery cart laden with groceries to my “house” parked on the outskirts of the lot, to eating Subway in the Wal-Mart parking lot with my family, to the fact that I’m sitting in the middle of a field right now by the highway actually feeling the vibration of that train still rolling by…and don’t even get me started on how hysterical it is to actually pee while driving down the road. I never cease to be amused at that fact.

6. The RV can be smaller than 350 Square Feet. In fact, quite a bit when your brand new hydraulic pump quits and the slides don’t move out unless you bang on the hydraulic pump with a rubber mallet and move it out inch by inch. (This is also giggle inducing) 1 hour later, after banging away at the motor, that extra 2 feet feels gigantic. I’m going to start doing carpet angels while it’s out.

5. I am thankful for people who work on the weekends. Unlike those who work for our RV company in the Technical Help Department. I mean, one can’t drive until jacks are up and the slides are back in and one can’t put them up and in without a working hydraulic pump, but what the heck? Service people need a break too. Coffee anyone?

4. We will need to purchase the extended warranty. Guess I’ll need to get a job. Maybe I can offer my services as an RV Housekeeper. I’ll get paid by the minute since it takes only about half an hour to clean one of these. Or maybe I can get a job in the Technical Help Department for Monaco. I hear they keep great hours.

3. Humming keeps big RV’s on the road in high winds. At least that is what I keep telling myself while my husband drives dangerously close to the side of the road and as I keep myself from screaming by humming as loudly as I can. It works. Like Magic.

2. Wi-Fi doesn’t mean High Speed. I’m sure you all knew that. But I didn’t. Until tonight when it took me two and a half hours to check my email and I still couldn’t reply to anyone. So if you are one of my friends who is waiting for a reply, be patient. I’m not mad at you or ignoring you or distancing myself emotionally. I just can’t make this internet connection any faster.  Maybe it’s because I’m at an ocean resort in the middle of Paradise.

1. And the number one thing I can learn while living in this RV is gratefulness. I am grateful for this weird experience to teach me gratefulness. As I stare out the window (between bug guts) at the world going by, I’m noticing things like how I’m seemingly chasing Spring across the country. I get to experience it twice—once in an Oklahoma State Park and now as I travel. The purple on the Crepe Myrtles is bright here in the Northern part of the country—the trees just beginning to bud and it is spectacular to see it in its beauty for the second time this year. What a gift! And tonight I was thrilled to inhale deeply the smell of this field (ocean) after receiving a good soaking today. It smells like Minnesota grass and childhood. I wanted to take my shoes off and sink my toes in. To be grateful, one has to slow down enough to notice what is around them. And that is exactly what this RV has done for me. Helped me to slow down, breathe in and live the moment.

350 Square Feet and a Whole Lot of Room for Growth

A husband and wife, two kids and a dog crammed into roughly 350 square feet. I have to admit, it’s been rough to adjust and just when I think I’ve accepted my circumstances, I trip on the dog or bang my knee on the corner of our bed while making it and I lose it once again. I haven’t been able to find much joy in my present circumstances but not because there isn’t anything in which to find joy. The truth of the matter is that there is always joy to be had if I’m living in the knowledge that all things are for my good and have eyes to see how bountifully I am blessed. Yet I’m failing miserably. Often. So these small spaces are squeezing me internally---squishing out sin that I didn’t even realize was within me. Ugh. I confess, it’s ugly in this here tin can of a home.

The thing is, I’m not necessarily unhappy about our RV and the fact that I’m living in it. It’s beautiful, warm when it has needed to be, cool when the sun beats down. There’s a decent bathroom with a shower---and now that I have figured out how far I can spread my arms, I no longer hit my funny bone while washing my hair. I have my kids close and at night, when all is still, I can hear their breathing. It reminds me of the nights I used to tiptoe in and listen at the side of their cribs for the sound of their life-giving breath…and that is charming, sentimental and wonderfully good. So what is my problem? Why have I so often sulked in silence and stared out the windows into sunshine feeling sorry for myself? What culprit has stolen the joy rug out from under me? Self pity overwhelms me at times and I am angry at myself for allowing it and seemingly helpless to stop it.

I think part of it is the fact that I feel displaced. Military moves (or any moves for that matter) are charged emotionally in ways sometimes unexpected. The move alone would be difficult enough, but we are in limbo here as we wait out the next 6 weeks to actually move on. Our anchor has been pulled, however, since we have sold our house and yet we are tethered here by military red tape and paperwork. So we are both here and not here at the same time. It is so difficult to even write about this strange existence and effectively communicate the emotional disarray I am experiencing. I am trying to live in the moment and enjoy with fullness the time I have left with dear friends but it is hard not to look 6 weeks out when the goodbyes really will take place. I’m grateful for the time with them but yet anxious to get it over with—rip the bandaid off and get on with the adjustment in Ohio. In essence, I’m feeling a bit schizophrenic! A perfect example would be this morning as I am bracing my feet against the side of the “tub” putting on makeup while the RV is moving out to another lot---I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of getting ready in my bathroom while it is driving down the road and yet cry at how unstable my life is right now! Calgon can’t take me far enough away at times.

And I am responding the same way with my family. One moment I am happily embracing the elements of the RV lifestyle and the next, I’m freaking out at my husband for having his things on every single available space. I am at peace, I am not. I have a home, but I don’t. I am Christ-like and I am Satan in human form.

But there is hope. Christ is not finished with me yet. He is using even this experience to show me my wretched sin. He is showing me that stability doesn’t come in a house’s foundation but in Him as a foundation for all things. He is showing me my selfishness and allowing me to deny self and serve Him in all things. He is showing me how I idolized comfort and giving me opportunities to get cramped, dirty and have to work a little harder for things. Who knows what He is prepping me to do? Mission field? Hold a baby that is filthy with lice-ridden hair and tend to her with love? Reach out to unknown people and love them without fear? Perhaps this will serve as a stepping stone from rich, worldly living with solid doors and locks to living in a hut in Africa with God alone as my safeguard. So, while I am terribly annoyed at myself and circumstances, I am also very grateful. (another sign of schizophrenia!) I am so immensely glad that the Lord loves me enough to show me where I am not pleasing Him and that He has brought me to a point where my self-dependence fails and I have only Him to do a life-changing work in me. And He will. With patience and unfailing love that I do not deserve in the slightest. So even in these tight quarters, there is a ton of room to grow.

A Party with No Balloons

I've reached box number 150 in our inventory of worldly belongings. Packing is overtaking my life but so is self-pity. I'm throwing myself a big ole' party while wrapping breakables and meticulously arranging items from my kitchen cupboards into cardboard. But instead of bringing joy into my life, this party is bringing such sorrow. It has festered within my heart anger at my husband, discontent with the job he has that demands so much of his time and controls so much of our lives. After all, this job is the reason we are moving, right? But is it? Do I not believe in the Sovereign Hand of God on High? Have I not implored my children to view this move through His Sovereignty? If I believe it, I would celebrate that instead of plodding through my pitiful, self-induced get together with the only guest being hateful, angry me.
Yet even as I write this, I am struggling to accept it. To want it. It hurts too much. It makes me acknowledge that I am not in control over my life and it also makes me aware that I am far too spoiled and self-reliant. If I am to accept God's control over my life, I can not blame my husband, the Air Force or all the work I have to do right now for my own sourness. I have to blame myself and be accountable to God for the spoiled rotten daughter that I have become that feels entitled to comfort and ease and getting what I want when I want it.
Oh that my heart would change---Lord, help me accept your Sovereign Hand as good, right and profitable even when I rail against it. Forgive me for my temper tantrum and fill me with your peace, joy and a desire to obey with joy that surprises an onlooking world.
Back to the boxes...not the pity party.

SOLD

We came home from a whirlwind, denial-inducing, family-soaking, and RV-buying trip to Texas to a bright gold sign with bold blue letters saying "Sold" in our yard. We met it with mixed emotions. Thankfulness at having found a buyer in a sluggish market, absolute relief at having passed inspections with flying colors and a marked sadness in our hearts at the finality of it. SOLD.

As I walked in the door to put things away I was almost annoyed at the absurdity of putting anything away knowing that in mere days the boxes would begin stacking up in our various rooms with all our worldly goods tucked in them to store for an indefinite amount of time. I walked through the rooms and looked with eyes that acknowledged that this was not my home anymore. It was someone elses. My new home was parked in a sales lot in Dallas getting cleaned up and prepped for pick up the following weekend. Then a thought crossed my mind that was completely riduculous---I wanted to drop down to the floor and spread open my arms and legs as far as they would go and do "Carpet Angels"...I know. Ridiculous---yet I already feel spacially challenged even thinking about climbing in that RV and want to feel the space around me as much as I can. So in the next few weeks don't be surpised if you see me do odd things like that. I might stretch out, stroke a wall and walk around aimlessly in my 2100 square foot house just because I can...and we might be in the middle of a conversation. I'm just warning you.

So as I was thinking that ridiculous thought and sorting the mountains of laundry I was about to start in my giant, brand-new-- but now forfeited to the new owners of my home-- washer and dryer, (boo hoo!) Jordan walked in and said, "I'm so sorry". This took me by surprise (even more so than the idea of my doing Carpet Angels). He went on to further explain how much he was sorry for our lifestyle, the leave-taking and the sacrifices I have to make as his wife. I must admit, I wanted to say, "You should be." But I had already reminded him earlier that morning that he was absolutely lucky to have me and didn't feel that my journey to being a godly, dignified woman would benefit from another ugly statement. I was reminded that I instead need to choose to see joy even in the midst of saying goodbye to a house, space, and brand new washing machines. So I said to my much-loved husband, "It's okay--in fact, it's good that we have to go through this." Now, I'm not necessarily prone to "Pollyanna" platitudes. I like sunshine as much as the next person, but try not to blow it up places where it doesn't belong. (is that a dignified statement?) But this wasn't said without conviction. I believe that it is good.

How can I say that? The pain is excruciating as I prepare to leave friends and prepare to give up comfort to honor my husband so it's not because this is without pain. But it's good because shallow roots on this earth leaving me longing for heaven. Temporary homes leave me longing for the eternally permanent. And knowing that time is short with those I love let me more fully enjoy their company while I can and rely on the hope of reuniting with them in heaven one day. So I can choose Joy even in the sorrow. Furthermore, and most importantly---I don't just long for heaven but the Heavenly Father as his grace is absolutely sufficient for me. Sufficient in grief, sufficient in loss and sufficient in the stress of upheaval. He is more than enough to bring me comfort and peace and my heart is learning to treasure Him above all worldly comforts and items that can be stored away in boxes. It is a good God who will strip us of our earthly treasures that rust and decay and comforts that make us soft and stagnant and instead replaces them with Himself. And there is deep and abiding Joy in Him. He is sufficient and He is good. So good.  

A Lot of Words

Words. There are a lot of them. Words that feel like sticks and stones. Words that mend and encourage. Words that make you laugh! (those are some of my favorite!) Words that make you weep. (Like, "We're Moving") But my favorite words in the world are God's Words. These words have power. They are sharp, active and can pierce the dullest soul and cause it to live again. They reprimand. Comfort. Teach. Inspire to believe in the impossible. They are my delight, a lamp to my feet so I might not stumble, they are edible, sweet and like honey to my mouth! (Or dark chocolate)

So I chose words to write or speak carefully. Sometimes. I can be very careless and often not very tasteful. But I'm working on that. Or rather, God is working on that. Someday I might be a very dignified woman. There is always hope. The verses you will find on this page are ones that I would like to say apply to my life perfectly. That I have grasped what it is to live content in any and every circumstance. But I haven't. I keep those words here  to meditate upon and remind myself that only in contentment will I ever truly live a joy-filled life. And that is my desire. "The Joy of the Lord is my Strength" is a verse I live by because I really believe that. When I am filled with the joy of the Lord, I can not be toppled by the circumstances I live in!

Life is about to change rapidly for the Lee family. I am about to embark on the dream of my husband's heart--living in an RV for the next 2 months at least. It is going to get interesting. And challenging. But the question that I keep asking myself is, can I choose to live joyfully in the tin can that will be my home? Can I choose Joy while tripping on my children and dog and cooking on a two-burner stove? Can I choose Joy when I'm sharing a bathroom the size of my front closet with three other people? Can I choose Joy in these circumstances? I can. With God's help. I can do all things---even live in an RV for two months through Christ who gives me Strength.

So join me on the journey---not just the literal one we're going to take from Oklahoma to Ohio and then who knows where---but the journey of my heart. A journey that will most likely have a few detours. I may get a couple of flat tires, run out of gas or crash but I'm going to keep traveling until I get home to heaven.