The Monster

Packing, planning, shopping, map-questing, cleaning, washing.... ripping hair out, they all go together like peanut and butter.
Trips are such fun, aren't they? Especially when they are really emotionally important ones like college graduation of the son who used to bounce like rubber off every surface in the house. Add to that the hopes and dreams of a worldwide competition for the beloved daughter tacked on right after graduation and you have the perfect recipe for......

THE MONSTER.

Yes folks, you all have met her. Perhaps you have become one, yourself. Perfectly sweet and gentle souls are known to throw open closets bulging with clothes and scream in horror, "I haven't anything to wear!!!" and then sometimes go to the extreme of cutting their own bangs. On occasion they even suddenly feel the need to repaper the bathroom and reupholster the couch, but only in extreme situations like when they have 5 minutes left before they leave, and are anxiously tapping their toes wondering why the rest of the family is not in the car.

I have seen the monster and tried to slay him. Still, everyone's motives become clearly directed at just ticking me off. Loved ones all ask stupid questions that I have answered a thousand times and then don't understand when they ask what day is Memorial Day and I hand them the constitution and remind them that our founding fathers would not have forgotten Memorial day and it is time they reread what makes our country great. In fact while they are at it, I tell them I think it is best that they repeat 7th grade while I load the van.

Once I get out the door, the Monster will retreat back to whatever latent cellular hiding place it calls home. I try as hard as I can to curb it. Sometimes then it morphs into anxious incompetency, needing reassurance that I am well prepared, this trip is not crazy, and all will be well. Details are poured over and over and still the important facts don't seem to seep in, like what was the name of that boy who is graduating and has he been my son that long already?

As I gaze out at the van bursting with props and suitcases, duct tape hats, a small kayak (just in case the river in Knoxville floods....), I envy Moses, who just had to pack a few tents as he traveled to the Promised Land. He didn't even need to bring a cooler, as God sent Manna each day and brought forth water from rocks. But even Moses cried out at one point, "It is too much for me! I cannot handle this burden alone!"
Poor guy. I can relate. Being responsible for others is a wearisome task. Fortunately, we really don't need to handle it alone. And it probably is not His plan that I call in THE MONSTER to help.

Deuteronomy 1:12-13
12 But how can I bear your problems and your burdens and your disputes all by myself?

¹³ Choose some wise, understanding and respected men from each of your tribes, and I will set them over you."