2020

Let me start by apologizing for leaving you hanging last year. Last I wrote we were being cast as characters in a Truman Capote novel, witnesses to the crime of the century in Kansas. That was "Leg 21." There were other legs. We went on to tour museums in Missouri and stay at an epic campground in Illinois and sleep in the Friends United Meeting parking lot in Indiana and eventually made it to Ohio, where we slept in the RV in a short-term parking lot at the Columbus airport waiting for Randy's daughter, Danielle, to arrive to retrieve Van. Once Van and Danielle were safely back in California, Randy and I hit the road again. We went to Toledo for hot dogs, slept in a Home Depot parking lot in Michigan, climbed sand dunes in Indiana and swam in Lake Michigan with my brother and his kids, played baseball on the Field of Dreams and attended my grandmother's memorial service in my second childhood home of Hubbard, Iowa. We broke into the home where my grandmot

I was very much looking forward to our trip to Wyoming. Between my junior and senior years in college I spent the summer at Yellowstone National Park in the northwest corner of the state. It was by far the most foundational summer of my life. My parents probably thought I'd "gone prodigal" (to steal a phrase from Greg Laurie) because I wasn't much interested in hearing from home. But it was the first time I'd ever been immersed in a culture so different from the one I had grown up in. And I couldn't get enough of it. When you are surrounded by people who have always been where you have been and have grown up the way you have grown up, no one thinks to ask who you are. They assume they know. They assume you are just like them. And you can start to assume you are too. But these people I spent the summer with were people from every state and multiple countries and a variety of backgrounds and they all wanted to know: who are you? what do you like?

If you’ve never taken a road trip with a 10-year-old boy, here is my depiction: Rand : “Hey Van, look, a volcano!” Van : “Cool.” Rand : “Hey Van, look, a buffalo!” Van : “Cool.” Rand : “Hey Van, look…” Van : “What’s for dinner?” It has taken me a few states to get used to this. Rand and I imagined Van being mesmorized by literally everything that passed our windows. Lassen volcano, a Bengal tiger, the ocean... but we can’t even get him to look out the window! The couple of times we’ve tried to force him to he’s simply fallen asleep (this kid can nap for hours!). To be honest, I was pretty disappointed at first. I had the expectation that experiencing this trip through his eyes would be a new way of seeing the world, with child-like wonder. But he’d rather read a zombie book for the third time than marvel at the random waterfalls along the highway. Disappointment was my attitude going into our trip north to Mt. Rainier in Washington state. It was recommended to us

Because we were having so much fun hiking the Redwoods, we left California late on Saturday afternoon and rolled in to Portland, Oregon, around midnight. While there was much to see in between, we rushed to get to Portland so we could go to church with Randy's brother and sister-in-law the next morning. Roy and Suzanne were enjoying a neighborhood progressive dinner while waiting up for us, so we all mutually agreed to go to the late (11:30 a.m.) service the next morning. I was so glad we were able to make it to church. Many of you know that I’ve been claiming a “ word of the year ” for the past 5 years. This year’s word is “fierce.” While I no longer dislike the word like I did in the beginning, I haven’t exactly owned it either. So I was thrilled when the band started playing a song I’d never heard of – one called “ Fierce ” – that was all about the fierce nature of God’s love for us. (Apparently I've been living under a rock – or in Mexico – because this song came ou

If you’ve ever looked at a U.S. map, you know that we had to drive through Nevada to get to California from Utah , but we were on a mission for the first time in weeks: to get to our oldest granddaughter’s graduation. (You know Trinitie already. She was on Leg 1 of this journey with us, giving a thumbs-up while Randy changed our flat tire.) So we blazed through Nevada in one day, only stopping for a good night’s rest (perhaps the best of the entire trip so far!) alongside the beautiful Walker Lake, (which appears to be free to campers all along its perimeter... yay!). It was such an honor to see Trinitie walk with her class, receive her handshake and diploma, and toss her mortar-board into the air. It brought back a flood of memories of my own high school graduation day, 20 years ago (20 years!). I remember my dad handing me my diploma (not too many people get to experience that huge honor!), my valedictorian speech (it had something to do with snowflakes--I got the ide