“Be delighted with the Lord. Then he will give you all your heart’s desires.”

Psalm 37:4 (The Way Bible)

I can list a lot of desires which I have.

If I had unlimited wealth, I could pay off the bills, fix up the house, quit my job and still have lots left over to give to friends, family, charities, orphans in third-world countries. You name it and I will give it money.

How about my physical body? I could stand to be better looking. I would really appreciate not having all the aches and pains I have. And I so wish that I had a guarantee that my body is not going to give out as I get older, that when I am in my seventies I can still wash my windows, crawl up on my kitchen counter to get the “fancy” dishes off of the top shelf, stand on my feet all day (hopefully while shopping instead of while working).

I long for my family to have all their needs met, that they stay physically, mentally and spiritually healthy. That my kids find success in their careers and in their romantic lives. That my mother never needs to go to a nursing home and that she passes away blissfully in her sleep when she is much older. That my husband never needs to go to a nursing home either and that we pass away together in our sleep when we are in our nineties, after we have reached every goal we have set for ourselves.

And my list could go on and on. But hold it, what desires are those really? Those are things which I want for my body and mind, but what about my heart? What just is the desire of my heart?

A saving relationship with Jesus Christ. Knowing that my Redeemer lives. Living in the faith that I am never alone, that the King is always with me, at my side. Delighting in me as much as I delight in Him.

I believe I mentioned in a much earlier blog that the world’s largest Indian is in Ironwood, Michigan. The giant stands 52 feet tall, weighs 16,000 pounds and has been standing guard over this retired mining town for over 40 years.

I’ve been there many, many times over the years. In September of 1996, Val, Nick and their cousins Ashley and Raquel visited it for the first time.

We took the usual obligatory pictures and one of the kids looked up between his legs to see if he was wearing underwear. About that time, Ashley let out a scream.

Some insect had stung her on the finger, and it quickly started swelling. We rummaged through the vehicles in search of something to slow the reaction and ease the pain. Someone discovered an anti-itch packet in an ancient first aid kit. It seemed to give some relief to the swelling at least, and Ashley fought off the pain like a trooper.

Then it was finally Val’s turn.

Even though there was a fantastic waterfall right outside the door of the cabin where we were staying, we just had to explore some more falls in the area. Giles Falls, formed at the top of Giles Flowage just outside of Montreal, is a picturesque area with a small park and a few hiking trails.

As soon as we stopped the vehicles, the kids took off running, wanting to explore the woods and waters. Val, who sometimes takes after her graceful Aunt Judy, tripped on something (her own feet?) and went flying. One of her knees took the brunt of the fall, but both hands and both legs showed some of the effects.

Since she fell in the red clay that lined the path, we couldn’t tell at first what was injury and what was just stain. We threw a tearful Val into the back of the SUV and half of us headed back to the cabin. The rest of the group jumped in the car and went in search of a store that stocked medical supplies.

Once Val had been properly doused in the shower, I could see that the injuries were not that bad. The red was more from the clay than from her blood. And the tears were more from pride than from pain.

The family vacation. That’s where I went with this blog back in August, and that’s why the trip to the cabin at Peterson Falls is so memorable. The family.

In the 60s and 70s, the family I belonged to - traveled with - was Mom, Dad and Pat. By 1996, that had expanded to include my kids, and my older sister and her family.

When my sisters and I had gone camping earlier that year, we discovered a wonderful place called River Falls Outdoors, which, in addition to renting canoeing and rafting equipment, rented a quaint A-frame cabin overlooking Peterson Falls. We thought at the time, wouldn’t it be awesome to rent the cabin for a weekend and bring up the whole family. I have those kinds of fantasies a lot, but they rarely come to fruition. This time, though, we made it happen.

The Friday after Labor Day we all converged at the cabin on the Montreal River. My boyfriend Himey, my kids Nick and Val, Pat, Judy, her husband Claude, their two granddaughters, and my mom. I would have never thought that this collection of people would get along so well in close quarters for an entire weekend. We had a hoot!

Instead of sharing with you what we did, where we went, what we saw, let me tell you about the accidents. In no particular order.

I can tolerate most insects, rodents and even snakes. There is one thing which I cannot tolerate, one creature which God put on this earth which completely freaks me out.

We were at Black River Harbor on Lake Superior and the kids were wading in the shallow water. Judy’s granddaughter, Raquel, a year or so older than Val, pulled her foot out of the water.

“What is that?” she asked pointing to what appeared to be grains of long white rice moving around on her foot.

I took one look and let out a blood-curdling scream. Leaches! She had stuck her foot into what must have been a whole bed of leach babies and they all decided to have a party on her lower appendage.

My screams brought people running from all over the beach. I was pretty embarrassed by my over-reaction, but when the good Samaritans saw what the problem was, they all seemed to totally understand where I was coming from.

We got all the leaches off and Raquel suffered no ill effects.

Tomorrow night you will get to read how two others in our group met similar fates.

I hadn’t planned on that simple two day trip to Madison turning into a three day blog. But what’s a girl to do?

After the night of the tornado at home, we checked out of the Midway Hotel and headed to the Wisconsin state Capitol building. Himey had been there many times and was excited to give the kids and me a tour. He rattled off all kinds of facts, such as the building is three feet shorter than the United States Capitol building.

We wandered the halls of the fascinating building, sneaking into the chambers for the Senate and for the Assemby. In the Supreme Court we were in awe of the paintings on the walls, until a gentleman stopped us.

I thought, oh, nuts, he’s going to kick us out. I truly couldn’t believe that they just let us wander around.

“I’m Supreme Court Chief Justice Day. Do you have any questions?”

“Oh, no, I’ve been here quite a few times. My dad used to work here.” My boyfriend answered, nonchalantly chewing on a straw.

“Oh, really? Who is that?”

We were in our vacation shorts and tourist tank tops. It was too hot outside to care much what we looked like and the sweat was probably still evaporating from our foreheads. I am sure he was thinking, your dad must have been the janitor.

“Senator Lloyd Kincaid,” Himey answered without fanfare.

“Really? I remember Lloyd. He worked so hard for his constituents.”

“Why, yes he did.” I had only known Himey for a little over a year. At first it blew me away that his dad had been a state senator, but when I met him, he was just like any other guy.

I had wanted to go to Circus World Museum in Baraboo ever since I could remember. The romance of the circus, the free-spirited performers, the draw of the open road. Imagine a job where you travel from town to town, every day a new adventure. Hasn’t every kid wanted to run away with the circus at one time or another? Probably not anymore, huh?

In July of 1996, when I was well past being a wide-eyed child, my boyfriend of 14 months took me and my two kids there. I think I got more of a kick out of it then they did. We had to go to the “Lemonade and Popcorn” circus under the big top. It would have been much more enjoyable if the heat index hadn’t been approaching ninety-five.

We got through it though and drove unto our hotel in Madison for that night. Lucky for everyone else traveling through Madison, Wisconsin, they tore down this particular hotel shortly after we stayed there. Last time I drove through that part of town, a Walgreens stood on that corner.

The hotel basically stunk. It was old and rundown and the air conditioning wasn't working. Not a good thing at all in the July heat and humidity. We took the kids swimming in the pool but that didn’t even do much to cool anyone off.
The worst part of the whole night was watching the ten o’clock news. Because our hometown was mentioned for a tornado that had passed by. I immediately called my mom.

“Oh, yes, you better call your sister, because she was at your house when the tornado went through.”

“What?” Nick was incredibly bummed out for having totally missed it.

I called my sister Pat. “What happened?”

She and her friend Angie were driving by our road when they saw a funnel cloud approaching from the west. They sped to our house and broke in through a basement window to wait out the storm. There wasn’t much damage in our yard, just limbs down. But a house a mile away was completely destroyed.

In all the excitement, Pat left her Tenneco Packaging cap at our house when she and Angie left after a few hours. We still have that dirty green baseball cap as a memento.

Have I already hit the “wall”? I just could not think of anything inspirational to write today. That’s when it dawned on me; don’t make this difficult, just write what comes to mind.

Everybody has hit the “wall”. Whether you are writing a blog or writing a term paper or writing your resume, all of a sudden – boom – you are brain dead. It happens in all other areas of our lives too.

We need to find the right outfit for a special event and just can’t look at the clothes in the store anymore. Nothing fits or it’s too expensive or now we will have to buy a bunch of accessories because we don’t have anything to go with this dress. We hit the “wall” and decide we just will make do with what we have at home. Or worse yet, we decide we will just not go to this event.

We are cleaning a closet or the basement or the garage. There is just no place to put all this stuff. We already have a pile of things to go to Goodwill and another pile for the landfill, but there is still too much to put away and organize. We just can’t finish, we take a break, and leave it all for another time.

Is it OK to just leave it? To just forget it, to give up? Shouldn’t we persevere and get the task done, no matter what it is, no matter how long it takes and how frustrated we get?

So what does the Bible say? You’ve probably heard the verse about “finish the race and don’t give up”, but there is a lot more.

Ecclesiastes 2:20 reminds us that we are not alone in feeling this way. “That's when I called it quits, gave up on anything that could be hoped for on this earth.” (The Message)

2 Corinthians 8:10 says: “So here's what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started last year and not let those good intentions grow stale. Your heart's been in the right place all along. You've got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it. Once the commitment is clear, you do what you can, not what you can't." (The Message).

But this is the passage that grabbed me.

"By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done." Genesis 2:1-3 (New International Version)

God created our whole entire beautiful intricate world in six days, and then he rested. Maybe I should dive in and get my work done, so that I can relax and enjoy the rest of my day.

I looked at him and he looked at me. We both had the exact same thought, and we both knew it. My stomach fell completely out of my body; someone had stolen the car.

I had started going out with Himey the year before. A mutual friend had introduced us and by the end of our first date we were reading each other’s minds. Though he was from Crandon, Himey had spent a lot of time in Madison, around the capital, and wanted to show it to me and the kids.

We headed south on a warm July day. We stopped in Westfield for lunch and decided to first take in a game of miniature golf. Himey, who plays regular golf, won hands down. I could easily have passed on keeping score all together. The kids had fun, though, so that was what really mattered.

At the end of the course we came around the corner of the Pioneer Golf office and Himey’s maroon Chrysler LeBaron was gone. We were 130 miles from home and didn’t know anyone living nearby. We had plans, we had hotel reservations. We just didn’t need his kind of hassle.

“What are we going to do?” we asked each other.

The kids were oblivious to our dilemma; they just wanted to eat lunch at McDonald’s. We walked out to the parking lot, heading towards the Golden Arches and there sat the car.

We had forgotten that when we first pulled in, we were planning on eating lunch. We had never parked next to the miniature golf place. Himey’s vehicle had been next to McDonald’s the whole time.