Dan and I recently stumbled into an unplanned micro-adventure (a micro-adventure defined as short, cheap, local, and low-tech). We zipped up armored jackets, strapped on helmets, and rode Dan’s motorcycle into the mountains on a blue-sky autumn day.
My heart is saddened by recent world events. And not just bombs and killing and war, but also ongoing poverty and deep hunger, injustices, the selling of humans into slavery, and homelessness right in our backyard.
And yet, can we risk delight? If so, how do we live in the tension of acknowledging what is broken around us, while also celebrating and appreciating what is good and fills us with joy?
Photo by Elisabeth Arnold on Unsplash
On a recent 7,800-mile road trip to Alaska that involved a horde of driving hours, Dan and I engaged in several conversations.
Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash
Dan and I hiked up above the town of Seward and crossed a creek where pink salmon were fighting their way upstream. This isn’t the first Alaskan creek or river we’ve discovered with salmon finding their way back to the place of their birth.
Resting in the shallows
The first day of our planned trip to Alaska didn’t go as planned.
Road to Hyder, Alaska (photo: Marlys)
On the way to our mailbox down the street, I noticed a woman slowly rolling a large tire from her car to the side of her garage. My first thought was, “She shouldn’t be doing that. I’ll unload her tires for her.”
But then she fell and together we couldn’t get her up. So I called Dan who showed up just as a young couple from down the street happened by.
Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Unsplash
Road trips. They’re so full of the promise of adventure, of seeing new places and meeting new people and learning new things.
Our home church in Bend, Oregon, has a significant number of families who have expanded their size through adoption. One young couple is currently preparing to adopt for the second time. To help offset the expenses, Foundry Church established an adoption fund, and families in the church are organizing a fundraiser.
