I quietly asked God for a surprise. He is so good.
He has been showering me with community and provision, ever since I arrived in Boulder.
My life is very very blessed.
Still, settling in an unfamiliar place after months of traveling has it's challenges.
I was feeling them.
Grandma Judy was driving down from Bellingham with the rest of my furniture.
I'd been camping out in my home since I'd moved here.
I was excited to sleep in my very own bed.
She was driving straight through to Colorado from Washington.
That evening, on Facebook, I saw this check-in:
Bonnie Brennan Hollingsworth is with Judith Knudson in Baker City, OR
NO WAY! The surprise I asked for!
Not gonna lie, I was moping around for most of the morning.
Went for a run, still couldn't shake it off.
Excited anticipation to dashed hope.
"Hope deferred makes the heart sick"
Grandma pulled in around 4PM. I tried to be happy to see her,
but when I checked the cab for any possible sign of mom, my heart sank.
She saw it. I confessed that I hoped she would be bringing mom along, too.
"Oh, sweetie, she wanted to come. She really did."
Grandma flew into the house and started to laugh at me.
"You're just so cute when you're upset!"
"Mmmm. That was not the correct response, Grandma."
Grandma bursts into a hysterical fit of laughter.
I bursts into tired tears.
"Oh, Rachael, we are going to have such fun, tonight!"
I turned to walk out of the bedroom and
my MOTHER leaps from behind the kitchen counter.
"SURPRISE!" sunflower in hand.
More tears. Big hugs.
My family is sneaky and good at surprises.
They arrived during a freak rainstorm week.
Brought the Bellingham weather with them, I suppose.
Went spent hours at LEAF.
Vegetarian restaurant. Falafel. Flourless chocolate cake.
For some reason, the three of us had two bottles of wine.
Things were said.
Some of them will not be shared here.
"You aren't going to the bathroom, you are going to Narnia."
"God gave me this kind of family because I can handle it."
We stayed at a funky little bed and breakfast in downtown.
Mom brought sandalwood bath salts.
She knows me the best.
Mom and I are more like friends than anything else.
We looked at all the strange paintings and artifacts and made jokes about how creepy they were.
We had our own room and giggled until late at night and probably annoyed all the other guests.
Breakfasting then back to the apartment.
Mom is a wizard. We got everything into the house and unpacked in an afternoon.
She also organized the ENTIRE kitchen (keeping my left-handed preferences in mind)
Went to the Nepali restaurant that everyone's told me about.
Their milk tea tastes like the real deal.
As if some old old Granny is out back stirring a caldron of it.
In the last year I'd slept in:
Swedish ski cabins, Norwegian churches,
Spanish hostels, German hotels, Irish buses,
Swiss attics, Nepali basements, my Father's basement,
living room floors in Latvia, airport floors in the UAE.
Mom's couch, half a dozen strangers couches,
the back of my car, the back of YWAM Norway's car,
Danish spare rooms, Megan's spare room,
in ice caves, on Viking graves.
In the Tetons, in the Alps, in the Himalayas, in the Rockies.
On Orcas island, on Meløy island, on Vancouver island.
Under mountains, under the Northern lights, under the midnight sun.
It had been 379 days since I've slept in my very own bed.
It was a good night.
THE NEXT MORNING:
Cold and foggy.
Drove out to the Denver airport and said goodbye to Mom.
She had to fly back and go to work in the evening.
Drives non-stop from Washington,
in Colorado for 36 hours,
and moves everything into my house?
Unbelievable. She's incredible.
I'm so undeservedly blessed by her.
Upon returning home, I immediately starting hunting for plane tickets.
"Mom, I was SO sad when I believed you were coming, and then you weren't!"
"Let that be a lesson to you, then. NEVER, EVER to give up hope!"
God has been teaching me to always expect good things from His hand.
Yet, another lesson in trusting those expectations.