3 am. Wide awake out at sea. I can feel last night’s dinner sloshing around in my belly as the boat sways from side to side. My head and body is twisting and spinning and no matter what I do, I can’t get a grip--it seems like I’ve fallen into a time warp when I when I was drunk as a skunk on a Wednesday night during my freshman year at Mars Hill College. Expect I’m not drunk. I’m horribly seasick.
How was I sick this particular time and not others is beyond me; I was practically born with gills. I was curled in a ball for the bulk of the boat trip, and for nearly a week after we pulled off of the boat, I was still rocking back and forth--my equilibrium was shot. But the spectacular mountain and ocean views? The salty sea smells? It was, oh so worth it. Whenever my head and stomach were stable enough to stand, you could bet your hiney I was out walking the perimeter of the ship with my camera strapped around my neck.
As we made our way over and across the Pacific Ocean on the ship, The Kennicott, it’s just the beginning of our adventurous trip. It’s “the bridge” to the Lower 48. “The bridge” that will lead us to our new home. As the boat pulled further and further away from land and into the open sea, I could feel Alaska slipping from my fingers. I could see her vanishing into the horizon, leaving me with ping of sadness. So many great memories, so many great friends, so much of myself was left behind.
I don’t know what to expect in Oklahoma. Will I love it? Will I hate it? Will my babies be happy? I’m shaken with the unknown. And when my world is shaky, I take things step by step and try to look at the situation is small groups, rather than a whole. This quote, by Martin Luther King, Jr. it very fitting for my current state-of-mind, “Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.”
And so I will have faith. I will have faith that this is where God wants us to be; that this is where we will replant our roots and bloom.
Oklahoma, here we come!