It seems counter intuitive that structure and schedule gives freedom and exhilaration; but, nonetheless, after a long summer of fun and flexibility, structure is a welcome change.
The last few weeks of summer were very challenging. The kids were fighting constantly. The house was in disarray. Activities had run dry. This combination makes for a tired, crabby mama.
Our last week we were trudging. The kids asked me nearly every day when school was going to start and I was desperately trying to fill the hours.
Our last big "hurrah" was a labor day weekend "family camp."
Family camp was always one of those things that seemed like it would be good to do someday, but it also seemed like a lot of work.
Our good family friends had invited us to partake in this family camp experience for the last few years; finally, we felt like we could accept this year and actually have a good time.
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| Washington Family Ranch |
The thought of being disconnected from technology for the weekend and spending focused, uninterrupted time with my family was something I was excited about.
I was also excited to spend some intentional time with dear family friends of ours, ones we've know throughout our entire married life. Remembering vividly the day their first daughter was born, she now is 11; these are the people and relationships that matter. The older I get, the more I recognize the absolute gift it is to be surrounded by people with whom we can trace these roots. However, I also realize that the busyness of life can cause these precious relationships to slip away so easily if we are not careful to nurture them. So, this was a weekend of intentionality, of committing to pouring into relationships that matter, both within our family and friendships.
After packing an absurd amount of stuff, we sat on our suitcase and zipped it up.
We left midday Friday and drove through the mountain to the other side.
I've not been to the other side of Mount Hood a lot and the landscape is a whole different place. It's brown, and desert like and hilly. It's completely different than the lush, green vegetation I am used to here in the Willamette Valley.
We drove through small towns, no towns, ghost towns....through a seemingly abandoned town of Antelope, Oregon. The only reason I know of Antelope, Oregon is because John and I watched the documentary series, Wild Wild Country, a netflix series about the Rajneesh Cult that once took over this region. One of the reasons I was so intrigued by the Washington Family Ranch camp is because after it got shut down, it was purchased and occupied by Young Life.
Now a beautiful oasis built for the cultivation of friendship and fun, Washington Family Ranch is truly a place of respite and reconnection. The camp was full of so many people we've seen and known through our school and church. It was a weekend of strengthening and building new connections.
Coming back from the ranch, we launched right into school. Blessed school.
We spent the day before getting new shoes, hair cuts, labeling school supplies...Tuesday was Open house, or as I like to call it, false start.....and Wednesday my house was so quiet. John and I woke the kids up a little earlier than usual and surprised them by taking them out to the pancake house for breakfast. Once they were sufficiently stuffed with too much sugar and carbs, we deposited them at school and bid them farewell.
Then John hopped on a plane to NYC...and me, well, I basked in the peace of my own dwelling. The boys were only there for a few hours before I had to hop in the car and pick them up. We ended up playing on the playground for another hour as I chatted with moms I haven't seen all summer and caught up with friends whom I missed! It felt like I was reconnecting with co-workers or something. It was very energizing for me.
I am fully entrenched in my two communities of West Hills and Bethlehem Christian Preschool. My seemingly empty calendar is suddenly filled to the brim with functions and events. I love it though. I love this time of year. Of new beginnings. Excitement. A fresh start. It's just the best.
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