“Let go and let God” was something my grandmother used to say to me. Often. And, actually, my dear 95 year old Grandma still has occasion to say this to me. God continues to work on this with me and this past week was another reminder of that. Perhaps you can relate.
To begin with, an incredible off-season deal meant we spent our week in a charming cabin and were able to take a break from motorhome living. Ah, the delightful indulgence of a bath tub! Of an oven. Of not one but two actual bedrooms with real doors. Of a flatscreen TV with cable. Of a dishwasher. Of the space to conduct an art lesson and a large table on which to paint. Of trees and nature all around, ready to be played in and explored, coupled with the ability to leave said nature and retreat to a place warm and dry without, er, going stir crazy or annoying one's siblings, one's children, one's parents, one's spouse or oneself to the point of distraction. Of a ten-minute walk down to the Bay of Funday with its 50-foot tides.