I wrote a series of posts about living in the wilderness five years ago when I had two babies under two and a six-year-old. This series focused on living in the promises of God.
Life is much different now, but it feels very much the same with all that’s going on the world and our looming adventure. The promises of God still ring true over the fields and through the woods and over the fear that settles nearby like a low-lying cloud.
We are literally moving to the Wild West – near Colorado Springs, but we’re not doing it the way anyone else does it. We’re going to brave the wild at 8,000 feet above the sea in the snow in a camper with three kids.
If you’d asked me five years ago if I would ever do such a thing, I would call you crazy. But this is my reality. My husband is wild. I’m wilder than I knew I could be.
We embarked on a strange and wonderful adventure last year to travel where the work took us in our camper with our kids. We’ve seen so much. We’ve made so many new friends. I’m actually sad to stop the nomad life, but I’m also excited about the thrill of hope this new rugged place we’ll call home brings.
I’m excited because it’s totally been a “God thing” that led us to this step of our wilderness walk. We were in South Carolina sweating profusely and exploring the marsh. I was looking for a way to get to some elevation (in the Smoky Mountains, not the Rockies) when my hubby came across an opportunity to stay self-employed AND live in Colorado.
This was a dream we had two years ago when we spent a month traveling in the West. We then spent most of that December looking at towns and places we could live.
And then life moved on. Hubby went to North Carolina for a solid year. The dream of living near Pike’s Peak still peeked over the horizon from time to time like a mountain sunrise when we were daydreaming, but we couldn’t justify it.
We had to go where the work was, and then an opportunity just fell in our laps. We thought it was too good to be true. We decided that if it were God’s will, the doors would stay open and we would walk through them.
The door to the wild has stayed open, and it’s been a bit of an Oregon Trail journey so far. We about never got out of Florida this spring with COVID and truck repairs. Now, our wagon is broken at the axle, and just like Western lore, we had to find a new axle and blacksmith to fix it.
It’s funny because I read historical fiction voraciously. I’ve been on a Wild West kick the past six months. Maybe that’s been my preparation for life in the wild, woolly West. We’ll see.
I’m excited about the new journey. I’m nervous about learning to drive in the mountains in snow, but I have a great teacher.
Hubby met the manager of our campground today, and she is from Lake Charles. She wants me to bring catfish when I leave Mississippi, so she can cook for us. I think I’ll bring some shrimp and grits too. And I’ll be wearing my “Live the Adventure” t-shirt when I come driving ’round the mountain. It has the perfect reference for this new phase of life:
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11 NIV)
Don’t forget in these trying times that He has a plan for you. The thrill of hope is what keeps me going most days. If you don’t know this thrill, reach out and we’ll talk (via Zoom of course :)).
Be blessed, my friends.