For when everything changes in an instant

I like to plan. Loosely. In three years of off-and-running adventures from weekend camping to 10-mile races, I realize Ben and I operate on our own schedule. So the principle of "flexibility" comes fairly naturally to me. It might have been programmed into me as the daughter of an up-and-coming officer of the Air Force, but however so, I'm a very fluid person.

Last summer as we embarked on our three-month honeymoon, we knew the big things we wanted to accomplish - the John Muir Trail, a visit to our family in Oregon, a hike up Longs Peak - but basically we planned it along the way. So it surprised me when Ben and I had our summer '13 Wyoming trip mapped out a couple of months in advance. We already knew we wanted to climb all the mountains in the Cirque of the Towers and several routes up the Grand Teton. It gave us plenty of time to complete our climbing rack and figure out what we need to know for our first taste of mountaineering.

In light of everything I've just said, we really should have seen this coming:

Last week several factors completely canceled our already-planned trip. A wedding, a can't-miss/can't-reschedule doctor's appointment, and the fact that there's too much snow to climb anything in that part of Wyoming...as far as we could tell.

We tried to quickly rethink and replan after the first two hit us, but the wedding called us to California and the doctor kept us in Minnesota an extra five days. The snow - the fatal blow - dashed any hope of three full weeks of climbing in true wilderness. I won't lie to you. We mourned. We grieved a good three days. We went through all the stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. And then we pulled out the map and calendar and planned a new and improved and awesome-in-different-ways trip to California!

We leave tomorrow and throughout the rest of June, we will climb in the desert of Utah, the mountains of California, and the peaks of Colorado (in that order). We'll stand by our friend in Redding, CA who stood by us when we were married last year. And we'll be back in time to pack a trailer and move to Kentucky.

Big and small, we all have plans that don't work out. It's the nature of being human. And so we, like all other aspects of nature, adapt. Breathe in. Breathe out. Change. Call it open-fists or a loose grip or whatever you may. You have to adapt to enjoy life. The way I see it, you can either plan, encounter unforeseeable road blocks, get mad, feel entitled, and do nothing. Or you can hold onto a big picture and let the details work out themselves. In my experience, the second has opened me up to a lot more thankfulness and a lot more life.

Because we couldn't leave as early as we planned for our adventure, we were able to stay a few extra days at my parents in Bismarck. On our way back to Minneapolis (the opposite direction we planned to go, but a necessary one for the doctor), we stopped at a friend's lake and spent quality time with quality people. And now instead of feeling rushed between work and graduation and our big move and this trip, we've had time to focus and pack for California. I'm honestly thrilled that I don't have to hold the master list of things to get done and details to consider. I'd go crazy. I almost went crazy just packing today:

I think it is fundamental to anyone adventurous, artistic, entrepreneurial, inventive, passionate, and ALIVE to embrace change with flair. Setbacks happen. Dreams morph as they become reality. If you don't feel resistance, you're not doing it right. Fight for the big picture and close your fists around the details that really matter. Let go of the rest. This isn't a passive "let go and let God" way of thinking. Flexibility is not fickleness. It's equal parts "don't take no for an answer" and "it is the LORD's purpose that prevails." If you really care about where you're headed in life, it'll hurt when plans are canceled and people bail and the winter lasts longer than usual. Grieve. And plan again. Then enjoy your adventure all the more because now you know you're not just there by chance.

And check back often for updates on our Summer '13 adventure!

Climbing the Devil

Sundays we go to church because that's the day everyone is there. People are baptized, communion is shared, the Word is preached. An infinite God loves you and loves me and gave us life while we lived in death. The One who paints the sky that gorgeous shade of orange and pink that fades into blue and green stirs inside my heart as words like, "Did you feel the mountains tremble? Did you hear the oceans roar?" pass through my lips and I answer, "Yes."

In September, I went to church with only two people. I woke up one Sunday morning in Spearfish, SD; I dressed, loaded the car with Ben and David, and watched the darkness lighten out the backseat windows. We looked for Devils Tower, not knowing it would seem so small from the road. And so high at its base. We hiked at 6:30 in time to see that morning's sunrise reveal rock and river and meadow. For 45 minutes, we were alone. For 10 hours, we climbed, and I knew the gift it is to be human - to know God with heart and mind and strength. To know Sundays in the pew and Sundays on the rock. There is more to thrill-seeking than adrenaline. It's seeking God in the cathedrals not built by our hands - His omnipresence. It's challenging every faculty, every muscle because it's what we were made to do.

We were impulsive. We settled on our climbing location only one week prior. Only one of us knows how to safely place protective equipment - we trusted Ben. We wanted the risk. We wanted the memories. We didn't take the time to plan it out because all the pieces were already there, and we simply wanted to go. We'd fit them together on the wall. We drove west. The climb was physical and long - full bodies jammed in cracks, breathless. We learned. We loved each of the eight pitches, especially when they scared us. The same philosophy we believe on Sundays at church holds here: This isn't a fluke. This isn't a once-in-a-lifetime (or even a once-in-awhile) thing. This isn't just for honeymoons or Sundays. This is who we are and who we are continuously becoming. We are creatures with heart and mind and strength, and we want to use it all. We want to reach the edge of our capabilities. And then we want to go farther.