Mountaintops

I actually lived in Denver, Colorado until my family moved on my 11th birthday to the desert of Arizona.  My whole body relaxes whenever I see the long line of peaks lining the west side of the city.  I was especially thankful I got a room this year facing the mountains.  It was a delight for my heart.  I love the prairie I live on now too, and it has it’s own beauty as well, but the mountains will forever feel like I’m coming home.

Saturday night my roommate said her husband went to the most amazing restaurant in Colorado several years ago, and we absolutely had to visit.  It was called the Buckthorn something and was filled with taxidermy to the brim, and served all sorts of meat from bison, to crocodile.  I ordered lamb chops, and my friend had a split platter of elk and buffalo.  Honestly, the food was just okay.  (Keep in mind the friend that I was dining with is a food blogger, about to publish her first cookbook.)  The history of the restaurant being the oldest restaurant in Colorado was pretty cool, as several of the recipes have been unchanged for 125 years.

On the way back from the restaurant (it was about 30 minutes from the hotel) I was driving my rental car, and about 3 miles from our hotel, I lost control of the vehicle.  It seemed to be a flat tire, but somehow more violent than that, as I’ve had one of those before.  I was in the right lane (as I was going to exit in 3 miles, and I like to plan ahead) and I was able to pull into the median between the highway and the closest exit.

Then I shut down.  I literally lay my head on the steering wheel and started aiming to control my breath to push back a panic attack.  My anxiety took a death grip on my heart.  My mind was flashing back to my car accident 1 1/2 ago, when my kids and I were T-boned when another driver decided to skip a country stop sign by our house.  My companion next to me said, “What do we do?  What do we do?”

Not looking up, I breathed out, “I don’t know.”

I’m still so thankful that she took over at that point, though she says it wasn’t like her and she had no idea how she did it all.  She called 911, and in about 5 minutes a police officer pulled up behind us.  We tried calling the rental car company, and we just got a message on the roadside assistance emergency number saying “We’re sorry, our computers are currently down.  Please try again at a later time.” over and over again.

The police officer took a look at our car with cars whizzing by on either side of us, and said the tire wasn’t just flat.  The tire was gone, and the rim was broken.  It was a brand new car, and obviously some kind of manufacturer error.  There was a black plastic bag under the rim, but there was nothing in it.  I never remember hitting a bag, but the police officer said there’s no way a bad could have done that damage.

It was around then that the car’s computer monitor started flashing in front of me, “low air pressure in tire.  Please fill soon.” Duh.

My friend finally got ahold of the rental car company for me, and during a transfer they dropped our call.  We couldn’t get them again for awhile.

So then she called AAA since she was a member.  After the AAA guy yelled at my friend on the phone because we couldn’t say more about the car besides that it was a Buick, 4 door sedan, and couldn’t find any other model name on the paperwork.  The tow truck was there about 30 minutes later, and the driver was actually really nice.  She cried, “I’m not a car person, I don’t know what kind of Buick it is.” and he yelled back at her “I’m not a car person either!!”  Yeah, so…

We finally got ahold of the rental car company, and they told us to have the car towed back to the airport where I got it.  The tow truck driver said that he could drop us off at our hotel 3 miles away, after he dropped off the car 35 miles away if we wanted to ride along.  Fortunately for us, the police officer offered to just bring us back to our hotel right then.  In the mean time, I had sent a message to Sally Clarkson, the conference speaker who I had been getting to know, and saying we were stranded and I didn’t know what to do.  Her husband Clay called us and offered to help anyway he could, but by then everything was worked out.

When we got back to the hotel, and tried to breathe deep, I realized I wasn’t sure how long it would take to work out getting another rental car to the hotel the next day, so that we could get to the airport on time.  I walked down to the front desk, to ask if we could get a late checkout if we needed it.

The 2 concierges at the desk were amazing.  As I started to explain what had happened, the tears finally started to come as I was starting to step out of shock.  They quickly lead me to a sofa on the lobby, and brought me a cup of tea.  They sat me down and said they would work out everything in the morning, calling and yelling at the car rental company if need be.  My only thought right now should be drinking my tea, and going to bed.  The next day they ended up ordering a town car for us to drive us back to the airport for our flight.

Like I said, it was a nice hotel.  I have no idea how the Clarksons arrange for us to rent a room there so cheap.

The morning was slow and peaceful.  I went down to the lobby with my laptop to write for a little while, and ended up running into and talking with Misty Krasawski who was a speaker at the conference last year.  We talked for at least an hour, and I left feeling so encouraged.  Clay and Sally Clarkson who run the conference checked on us, and we got to meet their uber talented sons, one a composer whose music was recently performed at the Vatican, and another just finished producing his first movie coming out in March.  Annalise and I went out for lunch one last time, as all the thoughts from the weekend were slowly sinking in.

I was thinking about how people who make a difference in this world seem to be a target for criticism, especially from other Christians.  I was thinking about what the battle it is to walk by faith. I honestly don’t think it’s a mistake that when I reach a point of clarity and encouragement, some disaster happens (so far) every time I have gone to this conference, preventing me from returning home rested.

I was thinking about the fight for joy.  This is something I’ve been talking to my kids about the last few months.  We think that joy should be related to our circumstances.  We don’t understand that joy is a battle.  Joy is not attacked through circumstances, joy is attacked through lies.  Joy is rooted in truth, so if you want to attack joy, you start weaving lies.

Usually those lies include, you would have joy if the circumstances change.
If you had more money…
If you had a better spouse…
If you had obedient children…
If you had a nicer house…

The truth is that joy comes from the Lord, not from circumstances.  Joy comes in knowing who we are in him.  It’s rooted in our identity.  When we seek the truth, we find joy.  When we don’t have joy, we are under attack from lies.  The longer I live, the more I believe this.

And it’s a fight.  Because the lies are everywhere.  It’s like a constant attack.

We need to be prepped for battle.  Lately, my kids and I have been “putting on the armor of God” from the passage in Ephesians.  We pretend to put on the pieces of armor one by one that is described there.  We talk about how they protect us from attacks.  We have been talking a lot about how we cannot rest our joy on our circumstances, but on truth, which does not change.

Honestly, I’d rather be in the battle than on the sidelines.  I’d rather be fighting for joy than waiting for it.  I’d rather be making a difference than playing it safe.  I desire to be fearless.

I did return home rested actually, though I think I’m still unknotting my stomach.  That in itself was a miracle from several perspectives.  I have been thoroughly enjoying hugs from my kids, and I’m so thankful for Knut who did an amazing job taking care of them all by himself.  I am so grateful for that.

Life is still crazy at home.  Nothing has changed here.  My kids are still sweet but mischievous.  My son still argues with me and my daughter still rolls her eyes.  Ingrid still somehow finds pens we hide and draws on everything, and Solveig still refuses to eat any healthy food.

But thankfully, my joy is still here.  I’m winning that battle.  With the added clarity of who I am in Christ, and the encouragement of how important all I’m doing is, I have joy.