Travel Needs

I had an epiphany this morning about travel.

My ex-husband and I have been apart since the middle of 1995, so all the traveling I've done since then has been because it was my idea.

In November of 1995, I took the kids (ages 8 & 10) on a nine-day driving vacation to the Grand Canyon, Bryce, and Zion National Parks. (Thank God for the audio cassettes of the old-time radio shows, "Suspense!" and "The Shadow.")

In June of 1997, I went with church friends on an organized trip to Poland.

In July of 1998, I drove the kids (ages 11 & 13) on the scenic route (Tombstone, AZ, the UFO Museum in Roswell, NM, White Sands, NM, and Carlsbad Caverns, NM) to visit my sister in Texas. (Audio cassettes: "A Prairie Home Companion")

In May of 2001, I flew to Washington, DC, for a couple days for the National Day of Prayer event there.

Then in May of 2004, my friends and I went to Washington, DC, for a week that included the National Day of Prayer event.

Normal vacations like normal people.

But in the last couple years, I've probably done more traveling and travel planning and travel wishing than I did those first nine years. Photography workshops in Washington, DC, and San Antonio, a weekend drive to Albuquerque with a friend, the planned drive with the kids up the Pacific Coast to my parents' place which got canceled when my dad passed away the month before, and upcoming plans to go back to Poland and to go to Indianapolis and, finally, to drive around the country with my mom in her RV. To say nothing of my attempt at becoming a flight attendant, which would have let me travel anywhere a lot of the time.

This morning when I got out of my car in the parking garage, I don't know if it was the cool breeze or the whisper of God in my ear, but I knew that my longing for travel is because I don't like where I'm at.

When I was content, I didn't feel the need to get on a plane or get in the car and just go. I could listen to other people tell me about the places they visited, without wanting to go there myself.

I like having my home, a haven I return to at the end of the day, where my stuff is where I can find it and my bed has the right amount of covers and the right number of pillows and my little dog Abby knows right where to go to get her treat. When I'm content, that suits me just fine.

So all my travel plans have concealed a message that I only discovered this morning in this particular way. I need to work more on contentment, on finding peace in the midst of unpleasant circumstances. I need to learn to not need to travel. Sounds kind of Biblical somehow...