You have to love vacations, especially in our family. Take our trip this weekend, for example. Us ten children and our dear parents installed ourselves within our 15 passenger, AC-free van, and drove up to NY for my grandmother’s 80th surprise birthday party.
We left at 11 am, just in time to hit as much traffic as possible. Within five minutes everyone in the car was sweating. My dear father, who has put a great deal of time and effort into the air circulation of the cooling system, wanted us to try the AC. This was great for those seated before vents (3 people) but the rest of us stifled for an hour or so, before finally compiling a revolt and insisting the windows be opened. This was much better, and we sat in a wind tunnel for the next six hours.
Our van does a great job at promoting family cooperation, and provides many opportunities to serve and humble ourselves to one another. The topic of windows being open is a frequent opportunity. The traffic is slowing – should we shut them now? The person sitting right in front of the window has been sitting in huge gusts for two hours, and the person on the back seat is still desperately gasping at the stray puffs of air that sail their way. And what about when it rains? Some people receive a steady spray of cold water from the open windows, and some enjoy a cool breeze. The van, when loaded, also presents opportunity – whose feet should be on the seat, and do you get to put your feet on the seat if they are huge? Some people are cold, but only a few brought blankets – should Brian have to unroll his painstakingly compressed sleeping bag to provide warmth for the blanketless sardines on the back seat? And do we really have to make a half hour bathroom stop for one person? These questions and more were all topics for discussion in the sticky confines of our vehicle this weekend.
The first half of the trip, I rode in the back seat with my brothers Matt and John. Although the hottest (or coldest, depending on extremes) seat in the car, this wasn’t so bad. Matt solemnly sat beside me and played with Matchbox cars, and John played Catchphrase with Abi. I tried to find places to put my feet (much to the annoyance of Zach, crammed in with Abi on the seat before me), and knit gauge swatches for a sweater I’m trying out. This knitting project was its own Jonah experience, because although I had 16 hours in the car this weekend to work on it, I came home with one finally completed gauge swatch, and a final determination of which needles to use. And no progress whatsoever. I ripped it out and started over probably 17 times. Rather frustrating, but it was better than sitting idly.
We stopped for the bathroom after 3 hours or so, parked in a shadeless area, and stickily stampeded towards the air conditioned building ahead. Ah, heavenly bliss – we stood about absorbing that for a few minutes. Our family tends to draw significant stares at rest stops because of the obvious family resemblance between 12 people, apparently minimal gaps in age, and sheer impressive amount of humanity contained in a small area. We aren’t always together that way, and people always do double takes.
We made it through that day somehow, and I was very impressed that we only had a few fights – God really blessed us with peaceful attitudes for most of the trip. We reached my aunt’s house, unpacked the car, and then us 6 girls went shopping for dress clothes for the next day. Shopping for clothing with modest girls is never a fun experience – adventurous, sometimes exciting, but rarely enjoyable. There are so many points for something to be wrong on, and each girl has different body types, and therefore different areas to watch out for. A low shirt is worse for some than others, shorter skirts are essential for some and impossible for others. Etc. And when you find something with a high collar, its sure to have a short skirt. Or be too tight. Or have a sheer negligie-like overlay. Or be ugly and make you look oddly obese. And then there’s price. Does it match other stuff I’ve got? Will I wear it frequently? Will it wash well? Do I even like this thing?
And so on. It takes hours, and you’ve got to show it to the other girls and see what they think, and in our situation, we only had a few hours to gather specific items – a pink shirt, navy blue shoes, and a dress for one girl.
So we did that, tromping from store to store, and took a wonderful break for some overrated NY pizza and Italian ices (sorry Mel) 
. Of course we had great girl chats as always, and found most of what we were looking for. Here we are in our final outfits:
I’m alltheway to the right.
My aunt’s house has 3 bedrooms, one level, and ONE everyone-use bathroom. When 25 people and a dog share this house (especially when 8 of those people are teenage boys) it tends to become absolutely packed. So we slept on the floor, took freezing showers, ate rather little, and sought out the rooms that had AC in them.
The morning of Grandma’s party dawned rather late on the packed masses at Aunt Theresa’s. We waited for Grandma to depart to “go to lunch” with her two daughters (my mother and aunt). Us women, who had been busily applying makeup and straightening hair, put our dresses on and went ahead to decorate the restaurant for the party. The boys, left behind with ringleader Mel, combed their hair and donned the despised white shirts they were all to wear for the party.
It was a wonderful party. Caleb (2 year old brother) ran about like a just-opened balloon the entire three hours, the boys played tunes on their fancy glasses, the men’s room was permenantly locked halfway through, and the cake amazed everyone by arriving in individual paper-thin slices, but it was lovely.
Grandma danced with each of her grandsons and son during “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” and there was hardly a dry eye left. Here she is with all of them:
The most visually amazing moment arrived when all of Grandma’s grandchildren came up to pray for her – 18 people standing around this one woman, whose godly example has touched us all in significant, loving ways – it is so amazing how God can use one life to touch (and create!) so many other people. Here Grandma is with all her children and grandchildren (except two):
Party over, we cleaned up and returned to our tiny homebase. Everyone was exhausted, except Matt and Caleb of course, who required minute by minute attention. This was extremely taxing on my parents and us older siblings, so much so that they decided to leave a day early (truly a drastic measure for our family).
We left the following day in the early afternoon amidst affectionate goodbyes, and knew afresh that in spite of cramped quarters, our fellowship was worth all the work.
Our ride home was (thank God) much cooler than the way up, and there was less traffic. And it rained.
The back window of our van has no insulation, courtesy of active-fingers Matt, and there is a huge crack between the door and ceiling of the van. We drove into a pour-down, and the water sheeted in, over the seat, onto all the pillows below the window, and all over Zach, Matt, and I. We blocked it with a towel (which quickly became saturated), and then a blanket, which rapidly acquired water and weight. Dad drove cautiously through the rainstorm, (perhaps fortunately) not discovering the emergency until we reached home.
Sitting in my damp clothes, completely exhausted, and rather tired of giving, I was a little frustrated. But Zach and Charles and I made up wonderful stories about animated fruit (you would have to be there), and talked about the questions of the universe kids inevitably bring up at such moments. That was cherishable.
Everyone was hungry, and it was 11:30 pm by the time we got home. The baby had been crying, everyone was half asleep, the van was full of stuff.
I went up to my room lugging several tons, split my heel open on a piece of furniture, changed the hollering baby into pajamas and told Dad about the huge wet quilt stuck in the back door.
Brian and I went to McDonalds and watched the employees dance around inside the restaurant for ten minutes before one finally emerged with our 8 cheeseburgers.
After unpacking everything, I got to take a beautifully hot shower (which I repeatedly thanked Him for with a whole new sense of appreciation), and went to bed at 1 am.
It just amazes me that in spite of innumberable frustrations (about half are recounted here) God overwhelms with so much blessing, and that He gives us the grace to get through such times. That it’s often among the most stressful circumstances that God places some of His lovliest gems of experience. That giving up conveniences forces your focus to essentials, and that beauty sometimes arrives in a cacaphony, riding a whirlwind of dirty dishes, crammed sofas, and lines at the bathroom door.
