Fort Building in the Valley

When I was a kid, I loved to build forts. My brothers and I spent most of our time outdoors, constructing stuff. We lived in our tree in the front yard. We dug tunnels. We used sheets and blankets to make elaborate houses. When my dad cut the grass, I would use the grass clippings to make little stables and fields for my horses, the boys made battle lines and DMZ’s with their army men. Our lives were one long adventure through imaginary worlds we created ourselves. It didn’t stop as we grew older. We graduated to fancy forts high up in the trees using oranges as ‘ammo’ in wars with our friends; and there were the foxholes dug in the sides of mountains and battles for possession of ‘land’ and countries.

This departure from the real world. The escape from chores and homework were the golden hours of childhood.

I’m afraid that I still want to escape from the realities of life’s hard stuff. I want to run away.

I make my list of things to do. I carefully cross the tasks off and feel accomplished when I do. But lately…ain’t no crossing nothing off…

The list looks like a mountain I cannot climb. I have tried every possible escape route and still I am standing in front of the giant mound of a list.

Mostly I have felt like I am floating in this vast sea. I have no oars. I have no engine on my boat. There is no current and my little vessel just turns here and there with every breeze. I drift around making no progress.

…I sit in front of my mosaic, placing tiny pieces of glass; then I am up, and slowly poking around in the dirt. A load of wash is started but not finished, I forget what I am doing and leave everything half done. It is five o’clock and dinner is not ready, in fact, I hadn’t even thought of it. Do we have food in the fridge?

The floundering is making me crazy…again. I hadn’t realized I was such a slave to order and control…

So…today… spontaneously, My husband and I played in the dirt. Me with my ancient scraping tool…some old thing my mom repurposed, a metal pipe with a scraper attached; him with his big John Deere tractor. We cleaned a section on the bank of our creek so I and the dogs could walk down to the water. I felt like a little kid again hollowing out a fort through the sticker bushes and branches. I felt that same determination and excitement that I felt as a kid, building my three-hundredth fort.

All for fun. Totally a ‘waste of time’. Right?

NO! I feel so accomplished!!

Somehow, THIS escape, was a good one. Somehow, my husband knew, and played along. Every bug bite, every drop of sweat, every moment was pure joy. Even to the point of knowing I had to stop, ’cause I could come back and work on it tomorrow…kids, throwing their tools down and running home to the sound of the dinner bell…

I needed the redirection. I needed to run away to never, never land for a time. I feel such a confirmation in my spirit that God provided this sweet time for me to show me His plan in the valley…

When I returned to the pile of things to do, it didn’t seem quite so tall. I could take one thing off the pile and do it and I didn’t feel like I was going to disintegrate or melt into a puddle of tears on the floor…

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…Thou art with me…” Psalm 23:4