I don’t generally recommend camping out, alone, two states
away from home, in the yard of someone you met online. 

No, generally, I would say that sounds like a bad idea.

But . . . that’s what I did last summer.  I practiced pitching my tent, then packed it along with a sleeping bag, my journal and a couple of pieces of writing and
drove far into the winding hills of southern Virginia. 

Last summer I attended my first ever writing retreat mostly
because it was inexpensive and being hosted by a woman whose kind and caring nature was palpable in her online presence. 
Camping made the whole trip more affordable and I booked my stay after
confirming I’d be able to catch a shower and a good dose of caffeine each
morning in the main house. 

It felt like a big adventure and it was. 

This past weekend I packed up again.  My husband topped off the fluids in his old Ford pickup truck.  He seemed confident I would make it there and back.  I felt a breakdown was likely, if not imminent.  

I headed south on Rt 81 without A.C. and, except for stalling out a time or two, arrived without incident.  

When you’re accustomed to living your life tethered to others, day in and day out, as I am, it’s good to cut yourself loose sometimes.  Despite the sweat dripping in the 90+ degree heat, I felt pretty cool, rattling along in that little red truck.  

I don’t have words yet to describe the weekend, except to say it was good, so good, for my soul.  

When I got home, my kids were flesh-hungry for me, climbing and hanging from my limbs.  I threw down my things and dove into the dirty kitchen, the dirty kids, the empty refrigerator.  

In the evening John hitched a small wagon to the back of the lawn tractor and pulled it, full of kids, through the lawn.  I roamed the yard gathering yellow tennis balls from the green grass, then hid behind the house waiting for the tractor to whiz around the corner.  

When it came, I lunged, letting loose a loud viking roar and a volley of balls aimed at the kids whose mouths hung open in delight at the sight of their roaring, running mama. 

They screamed. I screamed.  And we played the scene over and over until I was again dripping wet with sweat. 

Yes, my friends, it’s good to cut yourself loose sometimes.

*   *   *

Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.

What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God? 

That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.  

You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder.  Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.  

While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.