More Life Lessons From the Island...

Every year for about five or six years now our family retreats to our little piece of heaven for vacation. It's the smallest little island that my family owns on a beautiful lake, and life there is somewhat primitive. Perhaps not an ideal vacation for most, without modern amenities, but perfect bliss in our book. I always learn more about my children and husband on that island. And more about life itself. One can't help it...surrounded by nothing but nature and one another. It's almost a welcomed "pause" in life.
Every year since we've welcomed our twin boys into the world we've still attempted this trip. And every year vacation takes on a whole new look as they grow. This year was no different. Our first night was spent with such good friends (and technically family, actually) while they finished up their week up to camp. We figured nine kids, four adults and one dog on a small island for one night...why not?! I was anticipating our long, refreshing talks by the evening fire; children tucked all soundly in bed. Fun in the sun lakeside while the littles splash in the shallow waters. Maybe even a two-family-boat-ride by sunset. And. None of them ever happened. Because life is just crazy like that. (Why do I even dream such things?!) In fact, I was a nervous wreck anticipating my boys running off the dock's edge like madmen. And when I started getting them ready for bed, I could almost taste freedom. I laid them snuggled in their portable beds, and when two pairs of eyes stared at me in sheer terror;  four arms clawed for me in pure horror that I would abandon them in such a strange place, my gut told me my vacation was officially done for. I tried it all. I sang to them. I read to them. I pleaded with them. I threatened them. I bribed them. Nothing. Worked. And so...I admitted defeat, laid the mattress on the floor and slept with them. They were as happy as bugs in a rug. I watched the sunset from a distant window, listened to the kids run by and giggle from the dock and the smell of campfire filled the tiny room of my present prison. I was fuming. All gratitude and thankfulness was sunk to the very bottom of the lake. The next day was just as crazy, and by lunch time my nerves were shot. Home had never sounded so good. I laid down with my sleepy baby boys for their nap and tried to quiet my restless spirit. I awoke with the same dark cloud hovering. Knowing my perspective and attitude was off, I remained silent and stoic the remainder of the day. (I'm pretty sure another term for it could be also called "pouting".) And as I prepped myself for yet another sleepless night with the combative-in-their-sleep duo, my oldest daughter came to me. Eyes full of tears and ready to burst, arms tight around my neck. "I'm sorry, Mom, that you're not having a good time. It's just not fair that you can't enjoy it like the rest of us." And she cried and cried on my shoulder. And I cried and cried right back. (We're kind of emotional like that sometimes. Poor Hubs.) These children. Sometimes they know how to call you out on your stuff without even trying to. It's rather humbling.
Now, I'm not sure why God doesn't just make the trip down from heaven and smack us with a giant stick, but He's always so gentle when He speaks to me. And not in an audible voice, though that would make things pretty crystal clear, too. But in the dark quiet of that room that night , with the raspy breathing of my boys lulled to sleep...my spirit heard Him. "What if? What if you just embraced all these things for what they are? If you realized that your happiness and comfort aren't the most pressing events of the day?" It's true. It's what we struggle to teach our own children. Acceptance. Things simply are what they are. Go with the flow of life. Embrace the crazy...there's nuggets of joy hiding in covers of chaos; they just need to be discovered. Such a hypocrite am I. Perspective really is everything. I KNOW this. I strive to LIVE this. Inside out, outside in. It's seeing things through the right eyes sometimes that is the struggle. "Your eye is a lamp that provides light for your body. When your eye is good, your whole body is filled with light. But when your eye is bad, your whole body is filled with darkness." (Matthew 6:22) Sometimes my perspective takes a wrong turn, leaving my eye so dimly lit; my whole body filled with the darkness of doubt, frustration, anger, stubbornness, selfishness, negativity. Those things deserve no residence within this soul. And it's all within my choosing, in all reality.
As I mulled on these things my perspective shifted. I remembered where to discover and unwrap those nuggets of joy disguised as chaos...simply by practicing gratitude. I looked over to my boys. Both snuggled up beside me, mouths gaped open, little boy breath falling on my face.

 I couldn't help but smile. And when I rubbed their fuzzy little heads and stroked their baby soft cheeks, I practiced all over again that thanks-living. The next few days looked completely different. I found joy in snuggling my boys to sleep. Joy in accepting what my role looked like this particular family vacation. Joy in watching all my children create their childhood memories without this Mama's dark cloud of discontent hovering.

We left our week on the island exhausted, dirty and disorganized. But you know what? We left thankful. And with lessons learned for this Mama. I consider that a complete success.