There is something innately and undeniably beautiful about being away from home.
Don't get me wrong...I love my family. I'm a homebody. I love sleeping in my own bed and bubble baths in a familiar bathroom.
As I look out the van window at the world around me, there is a type of spiritual experience I've never felt outside of trips like this.
My bare feet up on the sunny dashboard.
Rich Mullins and Andrew Peterson playing from my ipod thru the grandma van speaker system.
Dressed in my traveling sunday best.
Hair and makeup done ever so minimally.
Surrounded by exposed rock and rolling hills covered in trees.
Underneath a bright blue sky with white, fluffy clouds sparsely littered wherever they feel like existing.
I feel blissfully alive.
Two decently mediocre cups of coffee in my system.
And it is nothing short of beautiful.
Yes, God is moving at home in Zeeland. But at home in zeeland I haven't spent nearly seventeen hours of the past 28 in a van with the same seven people (five of whom are cashed out at the moment).
At home I don't discuss the interaction of faith and modern psychology.
I don't have uninterrupted time to talk and think.
To discuss perfectionism while eating skittles.
I'm learning to be comfortable in this week's discomfort.
This is why I go on trips like this...
(besides the obvious reasons, of course)
it's a chance to refocus
and a reminder of what it is
to feel completely alive.