Home sweet home.

Anyone who’s been on a long journey knows how sweet it is to finally come home. Even if the journey was awesome and the places visited were extraordinarily beautiful or fun, as Dorothy said, there’s no place like home.

But it was more than a home we’d left when we started our journey across the country on bicycle, we’d left our family and our church–both more dear to us than anything else in all the world. Therefore it was these that we longed to see; and see them we did 🙂

Aug 31

I sat in my seat holding my phone as I waited for it to ding or ring with news that the family had read my blog post and found out that we were coming home a day early. Any minute now… What day is it? Are they at prayer meeting? Maybe they’re at someone’s for dinner. Maybe they don’t have wifi… I wanted to try and get some sleep but I couldn’t sleep without knowing they knew and being sure they’d be there to meet us.

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Why haven’t they answered? Maybe I should text them. That’ll get them on their phones where they’ll see the post. “Good night” I texted to Chantry… No response. Well she hardly has her phone on her anyway. Terra’s a better landline. “Nighty night,” I texted to Terra. “Goodnight!” she texted back quickly. That’s it? Didn’t she see it!? Guess they need a bigger hint. “Any blog readers tonight?” I wrote. “Well River is reading it to us right now 😉 other than that I’m not sure.” Whew! Thank you River! We should be all set any minute now. “I JUST HEARD!!!!!! You guys are coming home tomorrow night?!?!” wrote Terra. I sent back a winking emoji and the time of our arrival. Now I can try and get some sleep.

Sept 1

We arrived on the train in Providence, RI Friday morning around 6:45. We left our car and walked down to the baggage car to retrieve our bikes and panniers. “What can I get for you?” said the man, franticly trying to unload the baggage marked for Providence and load baggage marked for the remaining stops on the way to Boston. “Three bikes and 8 panniers.” “Do you have your stubs?” “Oh yes, of course.” I didn’t think about needing to present the baggage stubs. When traveling by plane, even though you get stubs for your checked baggage, you just go down to the baggage carousel and grab your bags. The stubs are only in case of lost baggage. I reached for my iPad case where I’d placed them. Not there. Where are they? I searched my pockets. Empty. I fumbled through the case again. Still empty. Where could they be? What am I going to do if the train leaves with our stuff!? I must’ve left them somewhere in the seat. “They must be in my seat,” I said to Forrest. “Then you’d better run back and get them!” “But I don’t know what car we were in!” I ran off anyway, trusting that the Lord would lead me to the right car. I looked around as I ran, trying to jog my memory, passing the open doors of several cars. Suddenly I thought, “This is the one.” I ran inside and hurried down the aisle. Wait. What seat was I in!? I never paid any attention to it. When returning from the restroom during our ride I just walked down the aisle looking for my red sleeping bag. It didn’t help to look at the people either because most if not all of them were different now. Again I just ran down the aisle trusting the Lord to lead me. Suddenly I stopped at a row occupied by a single man. I apologetically reached for the pouch in front of him rifling through its magazines and what-nots hoping to find my ticket envelope. “I’m so sorry. Excuse me. I think I left something in here.” Yes! There it was! Thank you Lord. I clutched it in my hand and ran back the way I’d come. I handed the man the stubs and pointed to our 3 bikes and the pile of all our panniers. We hurriedly unloaded them as my heart sent many thanks to our heavenly Father for His faithful help and care.

We loaded our bikes with our panniers and took the elevator upstairs to the main lobby. I looked around and didn’t see anyone so we walked outside. Across the street we saw the Sub parked on the curb. As we walked over to it I expected its doors to open and the family to come bursting out; but it was empty. Where were they? I looked at the license plate to make sure it was our Suburban. It was ours alright. But besides the plate, I could read the finger painting in the dust which covered the back door: “The La Belles are home!” Yep, this is our Sub. Now where’s our family. We looked back to the doors of the Amtrak station to see the clan running across the street en masse with big smiles on their faces and arms open wide. Hugs and kisses ensued. It was so very good to be back. Back in their arms and them back in ours. We’d said goodbye in Cañon City, CO on July 29 and now here we were together again. There’s truly no place like home.

I love to drive and tend to take the helm when we’re together so I naturally got into the driver’s seat. I’d not driven since we were together in July and of course since June 14 I’d only driven the three times we were together. So I was a little out of sorts behind the wheel. But there was more to it. I was out of sorts period. It was strange to be off the bike. Strange not to pedaling off to a new place that morning. Strange to hear the sounds of the girls voices. Strange to see my beautiful bride sitting next to me. After missing two turns and getting on the freeway going in the wrong direction Chantry said, “Honey, maybe I should drive :)” “No I’m okay.” We pushed the button on our mirror to call OnStar and have them download directions to the instrument panel. I drove quietly home as the kids exchanged stories and laughter in the back and as Chantry filled me in on all her woes and weals while I was away.

Once we got home most of us went straight to bed for a much needed nap. The girls were up late cleaning house and we didn’t sleep well on the train so a nap was in good order. Afterwards we ate brunch, got unpacked, and ran a few errands. It was good to be home even though it felt like there was so much to do. The girls had been invited for dinner at the Hobbs’ home so Chantry called to ask if there was room for us boys or if they wanted to come over to our house instead. “Absolutely!” said Cindy. “We read the blog and saw that they came home early. We were fully expecting that they’d come too.” So we all headed over to the Hobbs for a lovely dinner, family worship, and sweet fellowship. After dessert we gathered around the TV as I went through several of the pictures from our trip. Tim and Joanna Barr stopped by with their children to join in. It was so good to see them all and to spend that time together. Thank you Jim and Cindy!

Sept 2

Saturday was filled with more errands. We went to BJ’s to put more food in the house and I stopped by SeaSports in Hyannis to let the guys know the we’d made it back safe and sound. Jeff was so happy to see me. He was filled with questions about the bike, the gear, the trail, the traffic, etc. I gave him quick answers and promised to come back with the boys next week. I’d like to keep cycling and want to talk to them about getting a road bike that I could use on a daily basis. Our touring bikes are just that, touring bikes. They’re not the kind of bikes you’d ride daily and they don’t handle very well unless they’re loaded down with full panniers. But since I don’t plan to tour the Cape Cod Rail Trail or even the backroads of Cape Cod I’d like to see if they can set me up with a bike for regular riding. I’m hoping I can get a great deal on one of their demo bikes.

Sept 3

I couldn’t wait for Sunday to come. It was so great to be back in our church again and to see all the dear saints who’d so faithfully prayed us home. My heart leapt for joy to see and hug them all. It was the sweetest family reunion. I was so blessed and touched to hear so many of them say how faithfully they’d followed the blog, traced our journey, and prayed for us every day. We could not have asked for more. And I was told by more than one of the lovely ladies who “mother” me that I looked much better without the beard and longer hair. I assured them that I liked it as well and was planning to keep the look–especially since Chantry has made it very clear to me that she likes it much better too 🙂 I also got a kick out of the several people who didn’t recognize me and thought I was a holiday visitor.

It was sweet to be in worship at our church again. I truly enjoyed all the churches we visited across the country. We met so many wonderful Christians who love the Lord and worship Him with all their hearts. But for all that, I can honestly say that there’s nothing that compares to the liturgy of a Reformed church. There’s a richness and a fullness to the worship that’s lacking in the worship of most churches. There’s a weight and satiety to the substance that you simply don’t get otherwise. It made me grateful to be Reformed and to be a part of a Reformed church in a Reformed denomination. We enjoyed sweet fellowship after the service and were thankful for the privilege of returning to the Lord’s house in the afternoon for our second service. In all our travels, only two churches had an evening service/Bible study. I’m sure there are many reasons for it and, to all our shame, it’s certainly a struggle in every church to get God’s people back for a second service, but be that as it may, I’m convinced it holds far more blessings in it than the church realizes. If churches and believers ever get a taste of the blessing to the soul of bookending the Lord’s Day in His house and of how sweetly it facilitates keeping the Commandment to spend the whole day in a holy rest, we’d see a return to the practice of the faith of our fathers and more easily find a place to worship the Lord on Sunday nights than we currently do. May God revive our hearts and reform our practice!

Sept 4

I know what you’re all wondering now… what about Schylie!? It was a real blessing to  get home early and have time with Schylie before she left. Once she got all packed up and ready to go we catered to her desires on Saturday and Monday being sure to do what she wanted to do, go where she wanted to go, and eat what she wanted to eat. So we played games together as a family on Saturday and on Monday we spent the afternoon in Boston. We parked at a garage near Faneuil Hall and walked to the North End for lunch at Cantina Italiana, the oldest Italian restaurant in the North End. I called ahead to book a table for 12 (Jeein, Christie Newell, and Michael Graziano were with us :). Since they open at 11:30 it was easy to arrange. We ended up having the smaller section of the restaurant to ourselves. It was so nice. It was almost like being home around our own table except we could see people walking on the sidewalk outside and we had a waiter and a waitress to cater to us. Thanks to a dear family in the church who’d gifted us with enough money for a nice lunch, I assured the children we didn’t need to fight over 2 pizzas but could each order the entree we wanted. With eyes widened from surprise they ordered their heart’s desire. After a nice lunch we walked down the street and stopped at Mike’s Pastry for 12 of their legendary cannoli. Yum!

Once back at Faneuil Hall we walked around looking at the vendors and stopping for interesting street performers and musicians. We saw the Breeze Team put on an okay show. We really enjoyed listening to Violinviiv play several songs. And we caught the tail end of a hula hoop show by a young lady from Kona. When we were tired from walking we sat on some steps to rest. We sat there quietly. As nice a time as we were having, everyone knew that this was it. We’d soon have to walk to the car and drive to the airport and say goodbye to Schylie. We stopped by Starbucks on State Street to use the restroom but couldn’t leave without getting a few drinks. It was a nice finish.

I dropped everyone off at the Delta terminal and parked. By the time I met up with them they were nearly done checking Schylie’s bags. With that done, we went outside and waited for River and the crew in his car to drive up. They would say goodbye on the curb and then head straight home and we’d say goodbye inside at the security checkpoint. The tears flowed in abundance. The hugs were long and the squeezes hard. This was not an easy goodbye. I think there was a part of Schylie that didn’t want to go and there was certainly a part of us all that didn’t want to let her go. As hard as it was, I eventually had to pull the family away and lead Schylie to the entrance to the long winding line for security.

I am so glad that we came home early. I would’ve been foolish not to. My daughter needed me there and I needed to be there. She needed the boys there and they needed to say goodbye. I hugged her long and hard and treasured her grip around my waist. I finally leaned back and cried as I repeated to her the words of her own email that’d brought me home early from my trip, “I will miss you dreadfully.” I tried to comfort myself that she was doing the same thing Chantry and I did when I was her age. We left our parents for missionary work in Africa when I was 20 and she was 21 and here she was doing the same thing. Now I knew what our loving parents had felt when they had to let us go. They’d commended us to the same God into whose careful hands we were now commending Schylie. He’d taken good care of us and had changed us for the better by our time in Zimbabwe and Mozambique and I knew that He’d do the same for her. He’d take good care of her and He’d use this experience to make her more like Jesus. What loving parent can say no to such a prospect as that?

We walked away as Schylie snaked her way through the security line wiping her tears and trying to compose herself. I felt her sorrow, turned back, cupped my mouth with my hands, and yelled across the way, “We love you Schylie!!” With that I turned and led the family away. Mama lingered for a few more glances and then caught up with us.

We drove home both sad and grateful. We would miss each other dreadfully but God had a plan greater than we could ever imagine. He is at the helm and in that we could rejoice. Tim and Joanna Barr had invited us to a BBQ they were having at their home. They’d invited friends from Veritas, friends from area churches, and of course the brethren from church. As much as the kids felt like going home I knew that it would do our souls good to be with God’s people. So we headed to the Barr’s and enjoyed sweet fellowship for a couple of hours before coming home. Thank you Tim and Joanna!

It was sad to walk through the door knowing that Schylie wouldn’t be there and that we’d not brought her with us. But this is a whole new chapter of life, a chapter in which we follow separate scripts, but a chapter, as every chapter, in which we do our best to follow the same God. As long as He’s leading us wherever we go is safe and right. There’s a precious peace in that, a peace that’ll help us carry on.

Thanks for praying and thanks for following.

Until next time… 🙂