Y is for Yurt.

Some of you may know of the chaos that my family has endured since late last fall. While I won't go into detail here, let me just say that in retrospect I'm not so sure why I was stressed out.

Throughout it all I was watching God work. Quite often it's a "hind sight is 20/20" thing, but not this time. I was totally aware of Him throughout it all, watching, in awe of His presence. Thankful for His provision of wisdom, patience, and comfort.

So why the stress? It's just what we do, isn't it. The waters get choppy & we tense up, question motives, jump to conclusions, etc. We feel sorry for ourselves & want to bail.

Well, I stuck it out (I think). I hung in there, saw it through, and then bailed. I am so thankful for a husband who respects my need to vanish. While he held down the fort, I retreated north. Not far, but distance enough to feel secluded & disconnected.

I envisioned a weekend away, quiet, carefree, relaxed. It was all of those things & more. I hiked when the notion hit me. I ate if I was hungry, not because the clock said it was mealtime. I read, I listened to cd's, I enjoyed the sauna (twice), I nearly fell asleep during a deep-tissue massage (the owner is a masseuse), I worked 3 crossword puzzles!

My constant companion was the wind. Even the slightest breeze tickled the canvas of the yurt, and I wished I could record the sound. It would make for an ambient soundtrack for my everyday life at home. For now I will have to settle for hearing it in my memory.

I found that the yurt even offered me its own version of mothering. I awoke every two to three hours to feed the woodstove. Before dawn on Saturday, I woke to find it was 42 degrees along the west wall! So I stuffed the stove, pulled on a stocking hat, and cocooned in the down comforter. I slept like a rock! Not once did I resent that stove. I appreciated the warmth it offered and the attention that it required. I loved hauling wood in from the pile and stacking it, just so. I think a woodstove in my kitchen would be a nice addition!

Sunday afternoon came quickly, and while I was missing my family, I found it difficult to leave the yurt. I lingered, tidying up, loading my gear, shutting down the woodstove. Then it occurred to me that I was feeling sadness over nothing. The yurt will be there for future visits, and I had many hours of enjoyment there. I knew I'd be back, with Steve and by myself, there was no doubt. So I took one last look, hiked back to the Jeep, and drove away, knowing that I had just been blessed.