Seeking God Winks
Where's God when life suckity-sucks? I'll show you.
Wednesday, August 12, 2026
August 12
Tuesday, August 11, 2026
August 11
Brady and I fly back to California tomorrow, so today was our sole full day here in Illinois. And it was indeed quite full.
It began brighter and earlier than intended when the hotel fire alarm began blaring at 7 AM. Just as we were heading out the door, it went silent. So I went back to sleep, and awoke again at a little before 10. Brady asked if I would go down to the pool with him so I did, and I watched him for a few minutes until an unfamiliar alarm on my phone went off: a severe storm warning. And then a little later, another alarm announced a tornado warning and instructions to take cover. I told Brady that he needed to get out of the pool (since it's basically surrounded on all sides by big glass windows) and snagged Abby from the fitness center next door where she was jogging on a treadmill. Long story shorter, we wound up sitting in the basement ballroom of the hotel while the storm (apparently; although I saw some lightning and definitely heard thunder, I didn't see the telltale green sky nor the torrential rain and tree-bending gusts of wind that followed) raged outside.Since it went into extras, the game went a little later than we'd anticipated, and the traffic getting out of the lot was pretty terrible. But on the plus side, as we wound our way down to ground level from the upper deck, we got a pretty spectacular view of the illuminated Chicago skyline.
The food lines at the game were insanely long and all we managed to snag were some nachos, so on the way back to the hotel, we stopped at Cane's for chicken. And now, well, now I should be trying to sleep because Brady and I have an early flight, but I wanted to try to jot down some thoughts first. It's hard to believe that we're here; that tomorrow I'll be leaving my sweet Isaac for his first semester of college. I did finally give him the prayer shawl and he gave me a big hug. I'll miss him. But I know he'll do well. And I know that God will continue to direct his path. So for all of that, I am endlessly thankful.
Monday, August 10, 2026
August 10
Sunday, August 9, 2026
August 9
Last night as I was lying in bed typing and fruitlessly trying to post to this blog, we were approaching the thriving metropolis of Elko, Nevada. It was pitch black out so I couldn't see much, and eventually, I fell asleep. And courtesy of a pair of smooshy earplugs I bought a few months back, I slept pretty darn well. I found that the bumps were minimal and the rolling sensation wasn't nearly as disruptive as I'd worried it would be. So that was a plus.
August 8
As I write, I'm sitting on the bottom bunk in a sleeper car room aboard the California Zephyr. We're about halfway across Nevada and although it's only 9 PM Pacific time, the dark sky and the intermittent, not-so-distant wail of the train whistle makes it feel considerably later. We're on our way to Chicago. The first chapter of Isaac's college experience is being written as I type.
We arose early and Adam secured Mickey D's breakfast for us (per Isaac's request) as my sweet boy finished packing. Then we loaded into the Explorer bound for the Martinez Amtrak station, where Adam's parents met us so they could return the car to our driveway. (Big thanks to them for the assist.)It was, I think, a good day. The photos don't really do the experience justice; I took a lot and Adam took a lot but the internet connection isn't great so it's really just a loosely representative collage that I threw together using Google.
I'm not entirely sure that I'm going to be able to sleep much, but I'm grateful for the bed (even if it uses up every square inch of floor space) and I'm grateful that Adam took the upper bunk and that there's a harness up there to keep him from falling out, because once I got over the shock of it I'd probably laugh and that would be uncool. And I'm grateful that we're able to be present for Isaac as this next phase of his life begins.
Friday, August 7, 2026
August 7
"My head feels like it's workin' overtime on nothing."
That's what Isaac said after dinner, and I don't think I've ever related to a statement quite like I relate to this one.
It was his response when I reminded him --for the sixth or seventh time (had to -- he loves that 6/7 thing)-- that he still needed to pack because we leave in the morning for Wheaton. It was, I think, his way of saying that he felt overwhelmed and needed a bit more time to process the looming reality. So he asked to play a few hands of cards first, and then we went and got ice cream at The Dairy (where Tyler, his long-time good friend, took our order), and then he played catch with Brady in the yard, and then Adam and I took Abby to the airport while he figured out which video games to take to school. (She's flying out to spend a few days with her friends; the rest of us are taking the train. It'll be an experience!) And now, now that it's almost midnight, he's munching his way through a Totino's pizza while slowly packing up his things. Processing reality in his own way, in his own time.
And I guess I'm doing the same: processing reality in my own way, in my own time. I haven't really let myself be sad about him leaving, but today the chinks in my armor widened and I cried more than once. I know he'll do wonderfully well at college; he's a people-person and college is an amazing place for people-people. And I know that God holds him in the palm of His hand and will continue to do so. But as the one who carried him for nine months and watched him grow from a chunky baby into a wide-eyed toddler and then on to a conscientious kid and a responsible, caring, sweet teen and now young adult, it's hard to watch him take those steps away from me.
Still, I'm grateful to be his mom. And I'm grateful to know that God has great things in store for him.




