Are We There Yet?

When the Journey Feels Long

How are you doing? No, really…. How are you actually doing?

I’ll be honest. I’ve been fluctuating between devastation prompted by current events to a deep determination to choose joy, and then back to anger and disbelief and sadness and then joyful determination all over again. Can you relate at all?

Two weeks ago, our family of 5 loaded up in the Jeep with 2 storage bins full of ski gear, a couple overnight bags, and enough snacks and backseat fidgets to make an 8 hour road trip to the mountains. It truly felt like an act of joyful resistance, to hit the road with people I love to do one of our favorite things together. We are a mountain-loving family, and somehow, this year I needed those mountains and this road trip more than ever.

I needed to drive past the wide open plains of west Texas and feel the fierce wind tugging at my steering wheel, reminding me of God’s powerful presence in nature.

I needed to see the giant, gnarled tumble weeds cart-wheeling across the road ahead of me, mimicking the way my emotions have been feeling tossed and thrown about… and then lifting my gaze to powerful windmills dancing like ballerinas on the horizon, reminding me of beauty in the midst of chaos. That same wind was responsible for both effects.

I needed to feel incredibly small in the midst of the majestic mountains, reminding me of God’s all-consuming presence.

I think I even needed to hear my kids asking, “Are we there YET?! Why is this taking so long?!” from the backseat, over and over again… because I’ve been asking God the same thing lately. Over and over again.

We arrived in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of New Mexico, which literally translates to “Blood of Christ,” apparently named after the reddish glow of the sunset and sunrise. Truly, God’s presence was everywhere.

Our girls have been snow skiing for a few years now, and they could hardly wait to get to the mountains. It brings my husband and I so much joy to share one of our favorite adventures with our kids; needless to say, we had been looking forward to this getaway for weeks on end.

The first morning, we woke up early, ate a hearty breakfast, and piled into layers of snow gear to head up to the ski resort. The map had consistently shown a 30-minute drive from our accommodations to the base of the ski lift; however, as we pulled onto the road it suddenly changed to 1.5 HOURS. Wait, surely that couldn’t be right….?! There was much groaning from the backseat as we verified that yes, because of the road conditions and traffic, it would indeed take 1.5 hours up the mountain.

When we finally arrived, we unloaded into a parking lot deep with freshly fallen powder. I breathed a prayer of thanks for 4-wheel drive, even as I muttered under my breath about how it felt exhausting even just to get here. We loaded up into what appeared to be an open-air cattle trailer, pulled by a massive pickup truck… the resort’s parking lot shuttle. The girls squealed with delight and excitement.

Finally. We made it…right?!

Not quite. Despite reserving our rental gear online, we had to wait in an hour+ line to get all of our gear, fill out more paper waivers, and secure a locker for our extra belongings.

At last, we found ourselves loading up on the ski lift to head up the mountain with half a day remaining. Shortly after, the sky opened up and a blizzard-like snowfall stung us in the face, obstructing our view of the trail right in front of us. After a quick lunch break, we decided to try again. We got a couple more runs in when suddenly one of our daughters began vomiting. She had mentioned a headache all day, and the adjustment to the altitude turned out to affect her more than we had realized.

All too soon, the lifts were closing and we were trudging back through the snowy lot to our Jeep to head back down the mountain. By the time we arrived at our home away from home, a second daughter had vomited too.

We ended Day 1 feeling defeated and hesitant towards the next day’s adventures.

Now I was the one asking, “are we there YET?!” Are we ever going to actually get there? This is not the vacation scenario I had in mind.

We headed to bed early, cutting our losses instead of venturing out to eat (as previously planned), and we slept hard. The sun rose against a clear blue sky the next day, and the altitude sickness had finally run it’s course. We were ready to give it another go.

The remainder of our trip turned out to be incredible. Our 2 youngest skiers flew down each mountain trail ahead of us, delighted with the thrill of adventure. Our oldest daughter caught onto snowboarding quickly, as she carved her own path alongside my husband and I on our boards.

During one ride up the lift, my middle daughter looked out at the mountain and said, “Just think, Mom. We could have missed all of this if we had given up after yesterday.”

How true is that, in life?! How often do we endure a hard season, an exhausting situation, a seemingly impossible obstacle, and feel like things might not actually get better. Are we ever going to “get there yet?” Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.

Right now, I’m looking around at the world (outside of our vacation), and still asking when we will get there. When will politicians choose principle over party? When will the Church take a stand for loving our neighbors, and become more passionate about the actual words of Jesus than the image of upholding “our values.” When will we care more about the value of life than the price of gas and eggs?

“Are we there yet?! Why is this taking so long?!”

If you’re asking yourself those same questions, know that you’re not alone.

As you feel the winds of change and the chaos of the world threatening to pull you off the road, you might feel like a tumbleweed, careening out of control. But can you also feel the power of that same wind churning those windmills, creating new energy?

As you find out the journey up the mountain takes 3 times as long as planned, can you also trust in the power of our Creator, who never promised it would be easy?

And as you feel like you want to give up, bury your head in the sand, or throw in the towel, can you trust that better days are ahead and just.keep.going.?

Can you consider each day an act of joyful resistance, as you look for beauty in the midst of the journey? Load up the car and hit the road. Or simply cross the street and visit your neighbor. Either way, connection with people around you - and taking time to literally breathe fresh air- is key to keeping our sanity these days.

Are we there yet….

Dr. Peek

P.S. If you just read this and cannot relate to sensing the chaos in the world around you, I have both envy and concern for you. Ignorance is only bliss for so long. Even if you don’t feel personally stressed by recent changes in our country’s leadership… I urge you to look around and find a neighbor who is scared for their family’s future or a friend who is terrified of losing their job. You don’t have to fully understand their situation to have compassion and to acknowledge that a lot of things feel very hard for a lot of people right now. And no, we aren’t quite “there yet.”