Home.... Chapter One

I waited in line at the airport and thought to myself, "This is absolutely crazy." Everyone in line looked so put-together, and everyone else looked like they had somewhere to be.... but me.
I felt as if I stood out with a sign on my forehead...."Housewife, old but cute, alone but harmless, single but off limits, laughing but lonely."

I glanced again at my watch... 11:39p.m. , just in time to catch the red eye flight out of my life. At least for now, this was the way out of my life, and my best chance at thinking.
I just couldn't hide anymore and I needed to find myself again.

The gate attendant said "Next!" and I caught myself making small talk, complimenting this tired woman on her smile, making the couple next to me feel better about their 'Brady-Bunch' suitcase, and helping the man who was detained at security by reassuring him that this sort of thing happens to everyone. I was happy when he thanked me in a beautiful French accent, and told me he'd had a horrible day. Apparently I was the only person who had spoken kindly to him all day long. He said "Thank you" again and smiled, then went on his way.

Typical. Here I am in an airport at the end of an exhausting day of running my children to school at 7:30 a.m., answering emails, phone calls, picking up prescriptions, making dinner, picking up my children from school... teaching music lessons from 4-8 p.m. and then packing! Oh right, I forgot to eat again. I grabbed a diet coke and a sandwich while I shoved my clothes into my carry-on suitcase. My husband came into my room.

"Are you packed?" He asked. I jumped. He always scares me when he does that.
"Yes, I think so..." I said. He started to thumb through my purse. "Looks like you have what you need." I panicked. I was praying he wouldn't see my hotel papers... I had them hidden in my journal. I needed to have a secret this time. Just something to myself. One thing that was mine.
"Yes, I tried to hurry.... I think I got everything! You and the kids will be fine for three days, right?"
"Oh, sure." He answered and looked away. "I appreciate this so much, more than you know." I said apologetically as he walked back down the staircase.

I knew he'd never understand but I hoped that the cleaning I did the night before and all of the groceries from Walmart that now stuffed the fridge would be a peace offering while I left for the weekend. I just needed to breath... I just needed to be.

The stewardess started talking and I snapped myself back to reality, and buckled up my seat belt, remembering every other time I'd run away. My mind drifted to growing up and the marvelous adventures I'd had when I used to visit my aunt across the country.... I guess I'm a bit spoiled. My Aunt was truly a 'kindred soul' as Anne Shirley would say, one of my most admired spunky spirits.

Why do I run away? I kept asking myself this as we sped down the runway.  I couldn't answer this question in my mind. I'm weak? I'm afraid? I'm hurt? I can't win? I love winning. It's what I was trained to do.  That can't be it. I don't know anymore. All I know is I need to run, as far and fast as I can.

We took off, and for once, one moment of relief I looked down on those lights and the tears finally began to flow. I hoped the nice couple with the 'Brady-Bunch' suitcase didn't notice that I was crying, because I really wanted them to feel better. If they saw me now, they'd know the truth, that I was a mess. The seat belt light went off and a hush came over the crowd in the plane. I was finally able to hide in public, and I found relief in the chatter of other people's problems. No one cared about my makeup. No one would judge me on my tennis shoes or my messy bun, and no one would mind if I cried myself to sleep.

We landed and I was suddenly swept away in another world... an airport which smelled of coffee, doughnuts and strangers. Time to put on my game face and find my way around this huge airport.
As I wandered through shops, corridors, people movers, moving people and cell phones everywhere I suddenly felt awake! I was so excited to get to my hotel room because there was an old friend waiting for me. This time, the wait had been too long.

The taxi dropped me off at my hotel and I checked in. I felt an incredible freedom and a safety with me, I knew that I was in the right place and the right time. Whenever I get that feeling it's because God is whispering to me, speaking to my heart, trying to get me to listen again. And when I can't hear, it's because I've forgotten how to recognize his voice. It's always about me.
I couldn't help but sleep when I found my room. The bed was so soft, and my room was so peaceful.

When I awoke, it was almost sunset. It was time.
11 hours on a plane, 3 hours in a taxi, 2 hours of driving and a year of planning.  It was time to find my old friend. I took the elevator down three flights, went outside and walked straight toward the ocean.

I began to pray and then I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just sobbed. I walked in the water as the sun went down and it washed over my tired feet.
I asked the Lord "Why?" "Why this marriage?" "Why am I so broken?"


"When can I leave" and "When is my pain enough?" My heart just ached. As the storm clouds moved in over that big gray sky, the wind covered my voice and answered me with hope.  My attention turned to the gathering storm clouds on the horizon. For once I found something big enough to hide my heartache in. The ocean was home,  just for tonight.