Underwater

On our second day in Hawaii, decked out in snorkel gear, we set out on a boat with two marine biologists, a captain, and two other couples, with high hopes to see some dolphins.   

I was excited.  But I could not have prepared myself for what I was about to experience, since I had never been close to dolphins that were not in aquariums at Sea World.  This was the real deal.  We were taught how to correctly use our snorkel gear, a lesson I know Cody wishes he had heard on our honeymoon when he ended up with a leaky mask for half of our underwater excursion.   We learned how to swim with the dolphins, rather than at them.  We were told to swim shoulder to shoulder, mimicking the way the dolphins swim fin to fin in their pods, in an attempt to get them to accept us.

Two things have stuck with me since this experience.  First, I found it way more than ironic that we were instructed to imitate the dolphins so that they would accept us.  We, as humans, are constantly working to gain acceptance.  We do things that we think others will perceive as cool or smart or noble or whatever.  We spend so much of our time here on Earth trying to get people to like us.  To accept us into their circle.  And there we were, in the middle of an ocean, trying to gain the acceptance of a pod of dolphins.  And it was such a huge victory when they circled back around to us again and again, declaring that they had indeed accepted us.  They were comfortable, because we were trying so hard to look like them, swim like them, and behave like them.  

I was amazed as we watched from the surface, looking down on this underwater world that was so foreign to me.  I was completely captivated.  An overwhelming urge to become part of this that world of fins and flippers consumed me.  I wanted to be accepted.

The second thing that left a huge impact on me was the peacefulness that rushed my soul as soon as I stuck my head underwater.  I was nervous, since I had not snorkeled since our honeymoon, and I was a little leery of what else besides dolphins might be lurking in the water below.  But something seemed to change when I was underwater.  My heart continued to race, but my mind quickly abandoned those anxious thoughts as I became surrounded with silence and stillness.  Even the way the dolphins swam was calm and relaxing.  It might have something to do with the fact that we were observing them during their resting time.  Swimming in circles and figure-eights is their method of rest or “sleep,” as we call it.  I kept thinking over and over how much more peaceful I’d be if this was what I did at night instead of tossing and turning, caught up with the thousands of thoughts racing through my exhausted mind.  Everything about them exuded peacefulness.  What’s funny is that as soon as I pulled my head out of the water, that feeling was gone.  As the morning continued, I started to crave the silence and that peaceful feeling I got when I was observing this underwater world that was so different from mine. 

It wasn’t all silence, though.  The same pod that kept coming around to us had a baby in their pod.  And boy, were they chatty!  We heard them squeaking back and forth, and I couldn’t help but wonder if one of them was talking in his sleep.  Or maybe it was a Momma and Daddy discussing who would be responsible for coaxing the baby back to sleep.  Or maybe they were looking up at us, chatting about the strange intruders lurking in their bedroom.  Who knows, but it was awesome to be that close and to hear them communicating, even if we couldn’t understand what they were saying!

 

After swimming with the dolphins, we rode out to what the marine biologists call the “Turtle Cleaning Station.”  The turtles swim to this large rock where a certain type of fish hangs out.  These fish clean off the turtles’ shells, hence the name “Cleaning Station.”  We saw six turtles and none were too small.  They were not shy either, and it sort of freaked me out how comfortable some of them were with us.  

 

I was truly in awe of this world that exists under the water.  So much is still unknown to me, and I think that it what is so intriguing.  I learned so much about these creatures and how they live, and became extremely conscious of how my carelessness can affect them in all kinds of ways.  I left that day with a renewed responsibility to make wiser choices about how I live, in order to protect the world God has created and the fascinating creatures that live in it.

Exploring

One of the things that Cody loves about vacation is getting to explore.  He hates to read tourists flyers that suggest the hot spots every traveler from out of town should visit.  He would rather ask the locals where they eat dinner, and find the hidden gems on his own.  He really should have been more open with me about his expectations back when we were dating.  You see, I think he thought he’d be getting a co-pilot when chose me to be his wife.  He got a wife, all right, but I am not the person you want sitting next to you telling you which way to turn.  Even if I am holding a map, and a GPS device, and the directions are already loaded into that GPS device.  I’m just not wired that way.  I still joke that sometimes I get lost in our subdivision.  I only wish it were just a joke.  I might be able to get you from Point A to Point B, but I cannot promise we won’t take a back road or two, and I can almost guarantee that we will get lost at least once on our journey.  It’s cute that my husband stills thinks I have potential.  It’s amusing that he still thinks that one day, one day I might learn how to read a map or get my bearings without having to study one for half an hour.  

In spite of my navigation incompetency, we had a blast exploring Oahu.  We drove all the way around the island in our little white Jeep, and were truly amazed at how much beauty could exist in one small place.

 

We hiked up Diamond Head and imagined what it would have been like to look out over the top of the crater, searching for incoming ships, ready to defend our land. 

We were literally blown away by the wind tunnel at Nu’anu Pali Look-out.

In awe, we looked out over the city of Honolulu.

I was weak in the knees as I stood on the shore and watched my husband lunge off 
"Jump Rock" at North Shore. 

 After he jumped, I read this sign.  Then he jumped again.

We were deeply moved when we visited Pearl Harbor and looked down on the sunken Arizona, and all who were buried underwater that fateful day. 

 

 

 

 

 We snorkeled and swam through the coral reef at Hanauma Bay.  
I kept joking with Cody that I was swimming with my dinner.  
I know.  Kinda creepy.

 

 

 

 

  

We covered a lot of ground in our little two-door Jeep.  We left no corner undiscovered, and thoroughly enjoyed each mile we drove, each step we hiked, and every memory we took with us when we left.

Beauty

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory.  Isaiah 61:3 (NLT)

When we flew over the island of Oahu, it was an absolutely magnificent view, and all I could think of was “beauty.”  If ever a place of beauty exists, this is it.  A breathtaking combination of mountains covered with the most interesting vegetation, valleys lined with stunning waterfalls, and the merging of water and land, as the Pacific Ocean laps up onto the shore of this island created from volcanic ash.  Beauty from ashes.

I read this verse from Isaiah the week before we left, and it has been rolling around in my head ever since.  So it didn’t surprise me that this was the first thing that came to mind as we set out to explore this stunning island.  

From my own experience, I know what it’s like to watch God dig up something I thought was dead and give it new life.  I have been utterly hopeless, yet God gave me hope.  He has taken every one of my tears and turned each one into pure joy.  I don’t fear the darkness anymore, because that’s where I found Him, and began to see Him so much clearer.  My faith is not newly founded; I’ve been talking to Jesus since I was a little girl.  But not that long ago, in the midst of the loneliest, scariest, darkest season of my life, he gently reached down and lifted my face to His and spoke into my heart.  His message was simple, but powerful. 

“You are not alone.”

“I am walking each step with you.” 

“This is not your fault.”

“I am creating something beautiful, but it may take time, and it will require you to fully trust in me.”
 “I will turn your tears into joy.”

And you know what? He did. 

Lots of people know that we waited over four years for God to bless us with children.  On the outside it probably looks a lot like this:  Couple wants children, so they pray.  They pray, and they trust God.  They wait a long, long time.  They suffer a couple losses, but they keep praying.  Then, God gives them two babies, and they are filled with joy.  

That’s not quite the story, though.  There is so much that is left out of that version.  Like the part about being filled with joy.  Joy came before the blessing, not after.  I found joy in the midst of the tears.

Isaiah 45:3 says, “And I will give you treasures hidden in the darkness— secret riches. I will do this so you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, the one who calls you by name.”  This is another verse that God keeps bringing me to over and over again.  I guess it’s because of everything I have discovered in utter darkness.  Things He taught me about Himself that truly changed me from the inside out.  It was not a pretty process, though, by any means.  It was full of pain and grief and tears and loneliness like I’ve never felt before.  But all of that darkness was required so that I could focus on the light… His light.  And in the process, a part of me died… the part of me that thought I could control my life.  The part of me that desperately relied on and expected perfection in every aspect of my existence.  The part of me that was convinced I must have done something wrong to be brought to this place.  He has asked me to lay so much at His feet.  And I am so relieved to let it all go.  

I am not the same person.  Nope, I’m not.  My joy did not come at the news that two babies were on the way.  That was a joyful day, no doubt.  But true joy came in the darkness, long before my prayers were answered.  That’s the part of the story I cannot leave out.  

This verse makes a lot more sense to me at this point in my life:  “What you sow does not come to life unless it dies." 1 Corinthians 15:36 (NIV)  

As I looked around this beautiful paradise, I realized that if it were not for the eruption of an underwater volcano and heaps and heaps of ugly ash, this tropical paradise would never have become what it is today.  A million years ago, this island did not look the same.  Beauty was a process, and God was in charge of that meticulous, perfect process.  Why? So that He could get all the glory.  And so that we would know He is the Lord, the One who calls us by name.

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:5 (NIV)

Leaving... On A Jet Plane

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. 2 Timothy 1:7 (NLT)

 

Anxiety sure crept up on me this time, and totally caught me off-guard.  I have been looking forward to our trip to Hawaii since last August when my husband surprised me and told me he had booked a flight to Oahu for a week.  Just the two of us. 

About a week before we were scheduled to leave, uncontrollable anxiety plagued me like never before.  We had planned ahead of time to leave Jake and Lilly with Grammy and Pop, so that was not the source of my worry.  I left both babies when they were just six months old for a girl’s weekend, so it certainly wasn’t the first time I’d been away from them.  Cody and I even left them just this past February for a weekend getaway with some friends to Fredericksburg.  So the complete assault of fear and anxiety totally threw me off.  

My mother-in-law was so understanding when I told her that I would be calling her every day right before Jake and Lilly’s bedtime, just to check in.  I know.  I’m usually not like that.  But something was different this time.  Maybe it was the fact that we were leaving for a whole week, and we were putting an entire ocean of distance between us and them.  Cody’s response to my irrational behavior was, “Well, at least you’ll be drinking while we’re there! They’ll be fine!”  

As we waited for our flight to board, Cody pulled me close and we prayed for safe travels, for the kids to behave for their grandparents, and I’m sure he silently asked God to calm his quirky wife’s nerves.  Those words he did not speak aloud, but I’m sure God heard them.  

As our plane took off, I started praying, again.  I had eight hours to cover all of my fears and hand them over, one by one.  I can just hear Him saying the exact same thing my husband says, “Here we go again.  Didn’t we already cover all of this?  Why are we still talking about it?”  But maybe, just maybe, He understood how hard it was for me to leave my precious children while I flew off to a beautiful place so many miles away.  Maybe He knew I would be talking to him most of the way to my destination, and maybe He didn’t mind at all. 

When we were about halfway there, I think I took my first deep breath.  We were hovering over the Pacific Ocean, halfway between California and Hawaii, or at least that’s what the huge screen in front of my seat was telling me.  I’m not sure why anyone needs to know at any given moment while in flight the exact altitude of the aircraft or what body of water you are flying over.  That little monitor full of information did nothing to calm my fears!

As I sat there trying my hardest to relax and trust that God would take care of my family, I realized that this was too big for me.  He would have to help me understand and see it His way.  My biggest fear was that something was going to happen to us or that something was going to happen to them.  That was what I feared.  Not how they would behave.  Not what kind of weather we’d have all week.  Not any of that.  But right in the middle of my restless prayer, God gave me peace.  

I was reading Kay Warren’s new book, Choose Joy, and was about halfway through when I left on this trip.  God knew I would be packing it to take along to read on the plane, and He knew that at the moment I desperately needed Him to take control of my out-of-control fears, I would read a portion of this book where Kay explains a fear of her own.  A specific fear.  A fear of flying on an airplane and leaving her kids and her grandkids miles away.  The exact same situation I was in.  The entire chapter could have been a page out of my own journal.  And she explained the peace God gave to her as this: “Even if it’s not okay, I will be okay.  I will be okay no matter what happens because God is with me and he will be enough.”  Instead of continuing to tell myself it was going to be alright, I decided to listen to what God was telling me… that I would be alright, no matter what happens.

And I was alright. This is the view captured on Cody's phone as we peered out the window of the plane.  I cannot tell you how relieved I was looking down on the first piece of land we'd even had a glimpse of in hours.  I let myself enjoy my husband and the beauty God created in this amazing place.  Due to the five hour time change and the fact that we rented a Jeep and drove everywhere with the top down, I never managed to make a single one of those before-bedtime calls.  It was either too late or too noisy to call while in the car. My mother-in-law sent pictures and text messages which meant so much to me.  In my panic, I guess I forgot that she is a mom too, and she knew exactly what I was feeling.  Grammy’s daily assurances that “everything was going great” helped me relax and enjoy our trip and let my kids enjoy theirs.  Jake and Lilly were on an adventure of their own, and I know they loved their vacation as much as the two of us did!

I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me.  He freed me from all my fears. Psalm 34:4 (NLT)

Home

It’s good to be home.   

We had an amazing time in Hawaii, and it was a trip I will remember forever.  It involved conversations that actually began and then ended in an organized and sequential method, instead of the start-stop-start-stop system of communication we've adopted since twins entered our crazy lives nearly two years ago. It involved dinner for two, with no special request for a table that would accommodate two high chairs.  We were free to focus on us. It was absolutely wonderful, and I loved every second of it.  Over the course of a week in the most beautiful place I have ever been, I began to grasp how truly blessed I am to be head-over-heels for the same guy I fell in love with over a decade ago.  In fact, I think I'm even more crazy about him now than I was back then.

As we got home and took care of restocking the fridge and tackling piles of laundry, I realized how many things I missed while I was in “paradise” for a week with my guy.  It dawned on me how much I love it here.  I’m not going to go on and on about the beautiful Texas weather, because I just cannot even fake it.  The humidity hit me like a slap in the face as soon as I stepped off that airplane.  I cannot tell you that I inhaled that hot, sticky Texas air without another thought of the absolute paradise I left eight hours prior.  That would not be true.  But it really has nothing to do with where I live my life.  It has everything to do with who I live my life with.  It has to do with family.  This family began ten years ago when I married a guy I couldn’t imagine living without.  Eight years later, two tiny heart beats on an ultrasound screen delivered more joy than we could have ever fathomed.  But family started with the two of us. 

I think we’ve both had that rug-being-pulled-out-from-under-us feeling from time to time over the past two years.  For eight years, we had our routine, and that routine involved just us.  Don’t get me wrong, we waited years and years, longing for children.  In some ways, I think it made our transition to parenthood even tougher than normal, and I know without a doubt that taking home two bundles of joy made it feel like we had just jumped off the side of a ship without life jackets.  But over the past two years, a new routine has emerged.  And it is beautiful.

Oddly enough, I realized today that I really don’t mind having an audience while using the “potty.”  (OK, that might be a little too much information, but if you’re a mom, you know what I’m talking about!) And I actually enjoy the noisy background music of my life these days, which includes but is not limited to the following: streams of incomprehensible babble, all-too-familiar strings of “no”, laughter with spurts of uncontrollable giggling, and the occasional temper tantrum…. or two. It just took a week of peace and quiet, listening to nothing but the sound of the ocean rolling in to realize that I kinda like the sometimes-chaotic-clatter that fills this house. 

 I also decided I really don’t mind peanut butter crackers for lunch.  (Especially when it involves watching my goofy little girl smear it all over her face in pure delight!) Nor do I mind our regular Tuesday pizza night, even though a week ago I was sitting outside with an ocean view sipping a mai-tai and eating fresh seafood.  I'll be honest. I think I get just as excited as the kids when Daddy walks in with that big white box of Palio's pepperoni pizza every Tuesday night after work.  That box means so much more than dinner.  It represents our routine, which some days I know I take for granted.  But those are the moments that truly make my heart smile, over and over again.  The regular, everyday moments.  The usual stuff.  

 I may have enjoyed every blissful moment on a tropical island many, many miles away, but it could never compare to this place…. Home.

Ten

Dear Cody,

Ten years ago we said, “I do,” and our adventure began.  If given the chance, I wonder what would I say to twenty-one-year-old me on our wedding day.  First, I think I’d point out how young we were.  Really young.  Some might say, stupid young. But young or not, I’d tell me not to take this man in front of me for granted.  I’d want to make twenty-one-year-old me understand that God chose you just for me.  That He hand-picked you with me in mind.  God chose well.  So well.  I could never have truly comprehended this in that moment standing at the front of the church in my white dress that I had dreamed about since childhood, but I would find out in the years to come.  I would get to see just how blessed that day was, ten years ago.

What I found, in the past decade of my life, was not a perfect husband, but a man who loves me deeply, my flaws and all.  What I found was not someone who could fix all of my problems or heal all of my heartaches.  What I found was a friend, a best friend, who is willing to walk through a fire with me, arm in arm, with eyes fixed on the One who can solve every problem and heal every heartache.  

I wish I could say that the past ten years have been pure bliss; that we never, ever fight, or say stupid things.  I wish I could say that every year since our wedding day was filled with happiness, but that’s not life.  I have come to realize that life is messy, and it’s OK.  I am not perfect. You are not perfect. But if we trust in Him and His perfect will, He promises to be with us every step of our journey.  

Sometimes I wish we could get a travel itinerary, a schedule of events about to take place, so we could plan accordingly.  But, God does not operate that way.  We are on a need to know basis and some stuff we just don’t need to know right now.  Like where we will be in the next ten years.  What is on the horizon, I wonder?  Maybe if we could see ourselves at year twenty, there would be no need to trust in Him to get us there safely.  Or maybe we’d just jump ship and bail.  I look back on our journey to here and smile, thinking about how much life has taken place since the day we said, “I do.”  

I look forward to the days when the sun is shining on us, but I’ll take the storms as well.   Because it’s in the darkness of the scariest storm that He brings His peace, and reminds me that He’s given you to me for times like these.  He reminds me that we are not alone. That arm in arm, following Him, we can get through anything.  Anything.

 

I’m just so glad I get to share my messy life with you.   I love you!
Kel

Hanauma Bay, Hawaii