Joy to Spare

Daddy and I returned today from a three-day vacation on Catalina Island. It was a fun and refreshing tenth anniversary trip with just the right mix of things to do and nothing to do. This was my first time away from the boys overnight (two nights!), so I had never before had the opportunity to really miss them. Truth be told, aside from a little teariness as we drove away, I didn't miss them at all for the first 24 hours. But my fondness grew as the absence prolonged, and by the time we pulled into the driveway this evening, I was itching to bound up the two flights of stairs to see my angels. We shut the car doors and, as we walked to the elevator (racing up the staircase didn't sound like such a good idea when I remembered the heavy bags that accompanied us), we whistled up at the open windows. We were just out of the windows' view when we heard Big Bro, in his most excited voice, gasp, "They're here! THEY'RE HEEEEEEERE!" After the longest elevator ride ...

I would imagine that most boys and girls spend most of their time indoors. Surrounded by the creations of men. My boys have plenty of enjoyment at home, what with fascinating stories to be read and endless toys to play with. But they tire of these activities and begin seeking strife, food, and television to entertain themselves. Instead of giving into such poor amusements, we prefer to get outside. To most of us apartment dwellers, getting children outdoors means going to the playground. The man-made steps and slides, the carefully contained play areas ("No! The sand stays IN the sandbox!"), the enclosing sidewalk. The plastic bucket and shovel combined with the natural sand and sky make for longer contented play than the totally man-made environment of home. But the playground that God created, which we call Earth, is infinitely better. When we leave all toys behind, when we leave the sterile, manicured garden or park, and tromp around in the dirt, leaves, sticks and spiders...

Yesterday found us back at my favorite earthly place, the lower area of San Dieguito County Park. As we strolled in from the street, we were greeted with the refreshing sound of water from the fountains in the duck ponds. We stumbled over the rocky bridge, through the split rail fence-lined driveway, under an endless variety of mature trees, up onto dark, clover filled grass. This particular day the little white gazebo charmed me up to the top of the hill -- no small feat with two dawdling children in tow. In fact, Big Bro was so slow, and Little Bro so heavy, that I lugged my baby up fairly quickly, leaving the little man to wander over to us at his own pace. While mother and baby sat and marveled at the fat black bumblebees gorging themselves on lavender nectar, Big Bro plopped himself down under a tree a ways down the hill. Soon there was yelling, and more yelling -- all indistinguishable except for many encores of "MOM!" and after a minute I went down to oblige him. ...