light.

there was something that seemed just plain wrong about announcing that chad and i were headed out of town for a 40th birthday, 13th anniversary weekend get-away with family and friends this past weekend.  it seemed……

 

dangerous.

 

not that trout wouldn’t completely dis-limb anyone who tried to step foot in our house unwelcomed…but still.

 

well…we went.  and we are back.  and it was magnificent.

 

we flew, just the two of us, to kansas city…where we were picked up by chad’s brother and sister-in-law.  the four of us drove to the quaint, christmas lit plaza area to our beautifully restored, 1920’s hotel where we met his sister and brother-in-law.  our best friends from des moines came in the next day and we painted the town red…or silver…because we are just that fun…for the weekend.

 

we got to wear things like sweaters, knitted hats and scarves and properly initiate the adorableness of the winter wardrobe in weather that was below 60 degrees.  we shopped the plaza…

 

 

where we found Jesus.  and let’s just be honest.  everbody needs to find Jesus.

 

but best of all…we celebrated this man.  we celebrated his life…his impact on the people in his life…on the world.  a lot of jokes were made about the daunting numbers 4 and 0, and he kept asking me what i thought about being married to a 40 year old man.  but by the end of the weekend, i looked at his salt and pepper hair and the faint lines that showed up around his eyes when he smiled and appreciated the wisdom, heart softening, and growing love that they symbolized.  and i realized that without that pesky number 40…all of those things might not be present.

 

apparently, my affinity for hats goes right nice with his affinity for plaid shirts.

 

all of us missed our children, and our children certainly missed the always welcomed time with each other…but to be able to spent time together over un-enterupted coffee, beer, dinner, and city scaped walks lent itself to a greater appreciation for each other.  the funny was let loose in some of us while relaxation flowed freely in others.  each night has it’s own favorite punch line in the way of a comment or circumstance that is better left between the 8 of us.

 

it’s always hard for me to tell people i love goodbye.  and it seemed appropriate that we left our magical weekend with our airplane powerfully lifting itself through a dense fog…where we couldn’t see anything beautiful to save our souls…only to break through that fog into the splendor and warmth of a sun streaked cloud bed.

 

it was an instant picture of how keeping on through the fog…with your face toward the sky…eventually gets you to the beautiful place that God had waiting for you all along.  the fog always lifts…if you plow your way through it with faith that, although you can’t see it, the sun is there…waiting for you…and laying out the most glorious red carpet in the form of puffy, white clouds.  there is always a light at the end of the tunnel.  there is always hope.  there is always the promise of the sun.

 

and let’s all be grateful for that.

 

here’s to looking at things differently than the rest of the world.  there is admittedly a lot of fog…but there is also a lot of goodness…kindness…grace…love.

 

there is a lot of light.

 

****

 

i almost forgot…

 

 

it’s important to note that real men drink lemon drops and appletinis without apologizing.  take that america.