Tonight We Drive

We're heading out to Michigan tonight. We'll be driving through the night and so we covet your prayers. In the meantime, I have much to do around the house. I figure schooling today will be light as we prepare for the trip, pack, clean, nap, etc.

Last night I received a special dispensation from my wife to travel up the road to the library by myself. I found three audio books for the trip: (1) The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, (2) Whiteout by Ken Follett, and (3) Lewis & Clark: The Journey of the Corps of Discovery by Dayton Duncan and Ken Burns. All told it is nearly 28 hours of listening pleasure (I hope). Although, I will only need to fill up 24 of those hours. If you know anything of any of the stories, please let me know. I have good recommendations on Kite Runner and Lewis & Clark so the only one I'm nervous about is the Follett book. (Though if you've read Kite Runner and there's plenty of "new vocabulary" for the kids, let me know. They should be sleeping during the trip, but I don't want anything explicit on the speakers. Well, not too explicit.) Also, if you have any recommendations for driving music, I'd appreciate it. I just thought about the soundtrack to Rain Man this morning, which has some great driving music on it. But if you have anything else, or if you want to set up a nice driving mix for me on iTunes, just let me know before dark tonight.

Blessings to you and yours on this most excellent feast day approaching. Merry Christmas to all and to all a prayer-vigil-for-weary-travelers kind of night! Pray for us, St Christopher.

Christ is born!

Resurrection

The trip home was iconic of this weekend's liturgies: the drive was snow and gray. It was dark. We traveled through the night and woke up in our home, to spring. What a resurrection - blue skies, new leaves, flowers.

Peace to you, my brothers and my sisters. Christ is risen!

Full

The trip was (1) germ-free, (2) vehicle-problem-free, and is (3) over. It's such a long drive, with children.

Thanks for your prayers.

I'll be doing some catching up with blogs in the next day or two. I also will be working heavily on a novel (novel - what a strange-looking word) in the upcoming months.

Yes I am.

The book has been conceived. Now it simply requires some womb time - cramps, backaches, embarrassing piles, peeing myself when I sneeze or laugh, restless nights - a little labor, and then delivery. Easy stuff.

Anyway, self-mockery aside, it is time for me to be more fully who I am called to be.

In the meantime, in my day job, I will also be who I am also called to be - a father to a newborn, a toddler, and a preschooler (feeding the hungry, clothing the naked - the liturgical, rhythmic work of home). Pray for my wife: it will be a kind of death for her tomorrow, leaving Jack Henry for school.

I wish it were different, Laura. I'm so sorry that it isn't.

The Great White North

We decided, somewhat impetuously, that we were heading up to Michigan for a few days. Please pray for us as we travel. And it's supposed to snow the entire time we're there.

Hello, Spring!

Our van is jam-packed with children, and soon my veins will be running dark with Starbucks coffee.

Also, while you're praying, pray that our van travels well. Our last trip ended badly with a gastro-intestinal plague plus the added bonus of a broken vehicle that resulted in a three-month hiatus for my sweet, pimped ride.

Menagerie

The tram was full. It was a teacher work day and parents had decided that the 70-degree, blue-skied day was one for the zoo. I was among them, though I had forgotten about the work day (my wife's schedule is different than the rest of the county's). I was next in line and told the tram operator who was loading passengers and had looked my way, "I'll just wait for the next tram if we can't all sit together."

"There's room for you to sit together here," she said. I started walking toward the back of the tram, pushing Will in the stroller. As kindly as possible in front of so many passengers with cell phones and the Department of Social Services on speed-dial, I encouraged Anna and Avery to walk quickly. I unbuckled Will and told the girls to get up in the seat. The tram driver took my stroller from me to store in the front, and I climbed into the last seat on the tram. Or tried to. Anna wouldn't move over. "C'mon, Anna, move over so Will and I can sit down." She and Avery finally scooted over toward the thirty-something father next to them with the three-year-old towhead on his lap.

I sat down and thanked the man for making room. His daughter looked at me and said, "I think you might be too big to ride on here."

"I think you're right," I said.

As the tram began moving the little girl asked if the two girls were my little girls. "Nope," I said, "I just found them wandering around the park and I picked them up." She stared at me as she tried absorbing the information until I relented and said, "No, they're my girls. This," I said placing my hand on her head, "is Avery, and this," I said, moving my hand, "is Anna."

The little girl's dad, who held her tightly, said, "I told you he was their daddy, Sweetheart."

One of the tram operators got on the speaker as we came up on the tram stop halfway back to the park entrance. "Can I see a show of hands of anyone who would like to get off at this stop?" Several hands shot up, including the man's next to me. The hands went back down as the tram drove silently past the tram stop. I turned to him and said, "I guess they just wanted to see."

The Drive

I will be traveling tomorrow with three little people: a five-year-old girl, a three-year-old girl, and a crazy toddler boy. They're all mine, as far as I know. Laura and Sophie can't go because of school. So it's just me and them for twelve gr***ing hours. I am traveling to the edge of the Great White North - to Michigan - for an interview or two.

I had a dream last night that my wife told me she didn't want me coming back until I found a job. I was crushed. But then I woke up and now I'm okay. Mostly okay. Really. Mostly.

So here I am contemplating this trip from The Place That Shall Not Be Named (that would be "Hell" for my slower readers). And twelve hours, by the way, is only the trip there. At some point we will need to make the trek home, unless my dream prove prophetic.

Anyway, I'd appreciate your prayers throughout the day on Tuesday. I may just buy diapers for the older kids and slap them on them for the trip. Maybe for me too. That'd save some time. Now if I could only find some legal, ethical way to make the children sleep the entire trip. I'll have to burn some new music for the trip - something that will drown out my yelling and crying, preferably, and something that will keep me awake. Any suggestions?