i am glad i'm alive. i am glad i am chosen. there are so many beautiful things in life and in mine, i feel i've been given a double portion. rarely have i ever felt alone. my family, my church, the friends i've been given have surrounded me my whole life and though there have been moments when i've felt that loneliness, i have known that underneath are arms. everlasting arms. so much to love and so much to be thankful for, i cannot imagine why God loves me so much.

last day and home.

so slightly a lot delayed.  let's just say...i was detained.  but to sum it up,  yep. we had a blast. and then we went home and daddy had the kitchen clean, dishes washed, supper on and he made dump cake.  amen. so there we go, blog. your first road trip.

six

day six: i zone out easily. the bad thing about that when you're in a house with lots of other people who have to go the same place you do that night and who all need to take a shower before then, is that when you easily lose track of time you may lose as well any chance of a shower...  when mercy and i realized it was time to get ready there was a long line for the downstairs' shower and we only had 30 minutes to get ready [hey, for a girl that's a blink].  the good thing about houses, though, is that they generally have a spigot. we made good use of it.  the event we were getting ready for, by the way, was deborah's graduation from radiology school.  she finished strong from an intense program, making 2nd highest grade in her class - woohoo!

 

house and town

day five:
   tyler is a charming place.  i wanted to go for a long walk. but they wouldn't stop the car.

 

i'd just like to say that joseph is a prison guard and goes to work every day at 6.00, but he stayed up with me and watched Star Wars Episode One with me.  yes. he's a hero. not only did he stay up, but he answered all my questions, and explained the reasons why people were or weren't doing something and why the 'little planet naboo' was actually huge.  it was my first time seeing it, and i am now able to check it off my list. only two more star wars episodes to go before i am able to check it off the list for things to watch this summer. thanks, joe.  but then, after we finished that, the girls decided they wanted to watch one about Hawaii (abe! that's fo you!) so we did, but mercy was perplexed the whole time because it wasn't even set in hawaii the main portion of the movie and in the end the guy didn't get the girl, plus all the good people died, though they had some pretty sweet hawaiian jigs.  still, we were mad at Clive for leaving the poor princess on the beach.  she had to throw away all her shells and that was tragic.  we went to bed and slept as fitfully as possible for a pack of girls who have just witnessed such pitiful injustice over a screen.

la vida buena

  Day three:  My uncle is 1.5 spaniard, as are the rest of his siblings.  Not only is he dark with thick brows, black hair, and calves that looked like a stone cutter sculpted them, but he also inherited the peculiar pep and gusto of that culture.  (can one describe it as pep and gusto???)  Mama missed out on the olive complexion, but she got all the spirit a body could wish for.  (My mama knows how to make a party out of anything and she can do anything.  I promise.  I saw her once drive a stick shift while having a phone conference with a client, and drinking a sonic drink, then also answering some questions for me.) You can imagine then what it is like when we all get together.  A while back, Mama and Anne and I watched "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and throughout the whole thing we would point out different things 'yep. we'd totally do that.'  By the time we finished that movie, we felt so bonded to them we felt like we'd been at a family reunion.  Loud, dramatic, animated, you can't beat it. With supper at nine, shouts of laughter and talks that go on long into the night, the family being together is not merely a nice event, but a reason to celebrate.  The Machiavellos 'kill the fatted calf' as it were and treat everyone like kings. I don't suppose anyone in that situation could help but feel contented and rich,  knowing we've been incredibly blessed.

 

bayouana.

Day 2: 'Oh I get it,' Dawn said. 'Louisiana is one of those places like Alabama. It's right in between where you need to go and takes forever to get through. Little Beka says she wishes an earth quake would absorb Louisiana. Everything would be simpler that way. I mean, it's not even pretty.' That seems to be the prevailing sentiment among the people I've talked to about Louisiana. What is it with that state and Alabama? But despite Dawn's initial distaste of the place, we discovered some interesting and beautiful things in Louisiana. It was flat and dry and all the corn was dead. We drove past a field of golden something and far across the field we saw a train chugging the same direction as we and decided that the blue of the sky, the rust and black of the train against the gold somethings was one very pretty sight in the long state.

The disadvantage of being a photographer who is driving is that you have this *almost irresistible urge to whip out your camera and get just a few - because this place is really cool and the way the light is bouncing off that thing and we're going seventy miles an hour and there's only a little window of time to get it - but.

You're driving. So you can't. Handily, though, I happen to have a few extra pairs of hands and one of them was in the Co-pilot seat. All the pictures you see of the city and bridge were taken by Moriah Dawn, and if I do say so myself, she did a fine job.

With all of Louisiana's trains, fields, cities with murals on the walls of buildings and mentions of Bayous by far the most memorable sight in that state was at a McDonald's. We had stopped and were filing back towards that blessed sign with the letters 'WOMEN' in bold when, as I passed a line of booths, I saw two pairs of feet hanging off the side of the seats, longways. Slowing down, I passed that booth deliberately. Inside, I found a couple who forever changed my views of a good time at McDonald's. Pillow and book in hand, the woman stretched out comfortably while the man did the same with his nook. 'This' I thought to myself, 'Is how every person should enjoy a date to McDonald's.'

When we finally got to the Mach house, Uncle Dave waved from the deck and yelled to us that he had the remnant of the water from Texas in his pool. And the rest the day was wrapped fantastically day with swimming, running [I find I can only run half of what I do in Ga as it's 100+degrees here, but Jacob told stories to me about his crazy football coach, so we managed to make it further than expected]. We had hand churned homemade ice cream and watched 'Signs', during which I clung to poor Joseph who bore it like a saint, but I suspect came out with a few bruises. What I couldn't understand about that movie is why two grown men with little kids who they were supposed to be protecting did nothing in self defense! I mean, don't stand there waiting for the things to beat down your door - go get a kitchen knife or something because the ONLY thing they had in their hands were the kids, and I don't think you're supposed to use a kid as a weapon of self defense. I was glad when that movie was over, and I never plan to see it again.

to there, one.

Poor forsaken blog. I haven't looked at you for a long time, but it's not that I don't love you. I do. It's just life. Maybe you'll understand when you get older. But for now, I'm going to tell you about road trips. Do you like road trips? Here's the goal. Make an entry every day and post a few pictures, but not edit the pics.... I know, but I'm going to try. So here goes. Your first-ever blogged road trip.

First day: Vicksburg - where Liz keeps vases of gerber daisies and gluten free muffins. She lives in an apartment where, if you look out the side window, you could imagine yourself in some forest cottage. There's a giant fig tree growing in the neighbor's yard and if you were to open the kitchen window you could easily snag a few. Hattie has an amazing straight fro and raises a quizzical brow but grins when her daddy comes home. Liz hangs clothes from a line in her kitchen, her towels smell like lavender. She says 'I'm all about dead sea lotions now,' and tells stories of neighbors who are subtle enough to question and strange enough to endear. This whole morning has felt like a sea morning. Early grey, wind and patches of white sun coming through green. Vicksburg has a lot of tree tunnels, and the most hobbit-like church I've ever been to.

Moriah kept me awake last night while driving. She said 'I feel it's my duty, Gabe. And also, it's not my nature to fall asleep on trips. Do you want to know my life goals? Finish reading through the Bible, go to Dreamland, oh - and I've always wanted to do this: go hot air ballooning.'

come

More and more I want to see Him. I want His beauty in my life, His Spirit, His strength. I want to go home. Life – ah that battlefield - we run but are constantly beaten down, we fall, we forget, we fear. We wonder how in this place we are supposed to live? It’s gruesome and our enemies swarm and are so thick it’s hard to imagine how we can survive. Pain. Fear. Screams. It’s dark and the clash and heat of battle, the disgusting smells, the blood, the dirt, the sweat and weariness is thick. There are many fallen. So we begin to slack, begin to doubt, and unbelief in the ability of our Source of strength makes us weak. This weakening of the Pilgrim is noticed by our enemy. They gather the weary into cradles and rock us. Lull us, deaden us. Why all this apathy? Why can’t I feel Him close? Why don’t I trust Him more? Do you ever wonder that? I get frustrated because I notice it in myself. My heart is deadened and I can tell. But then something – a voice or a warning call sounds and startles us. ‘Run, Pilgrim,’ it says. ‘Flee while you can’. So we do. We leave our cradle and run. We fall again and feel the enemy at our heels shooting their fiery darts and when we are at the end of our strength there is something we discover – arms. Breathing. Someone’s shield blocking the fire hurdled towards our body. We are being carried. We close our eyes to the confusion and when we open them again we see that He has led us to a table spread with His own provision in the middle of the screams and smoke, the combat and defeat, the cries of pain, the blood, the torment, agony, the swelling numbers of enemy. He sits with us still holding us in His arms and speaks. He says ‘Peace. Peace, Pilgrim.‘ We show Him our wounds and wonder ‘God how can you love me when I fall again and again? Why don’t you find some strong soldier who will get the job done like you want? My God, I’m disfigured, I sin over and over – I let the enemy lull me asleep, I was in their camp – God why, why, why do you love me?’ But He takes our marred face in His hands and looks us in the eye. Even our scars are beautiful to Him. He opens His hands and shows us His own. ‘For you, my love. For you. Pilgrim, Lift up your eyes. I have raised my standard and from the four corners of the earth I am gathering my people. Look for my armies, look for me. I am coming, Pilgrim. I am coming.’ He hands us our banner and we run. We run for Him. We run knowing that He is getting ready to take us away. We run knowing this cursed place full of the screams and groans of sin is not our home. We run knowing He is coming. Even so, Lord, come quickly.