Needing More

It is a perfect kind of morning. It is raining out, it is still dark, and a fire is roaring in the stove. Ok--it's fake but still...that's the best kind. And to top that off, Roy and Savana went to Sam's on Friday to stock up on essentials and came home with this pumpkin spice creamer. Oh my word it makes the best chai tea. And so? I have a cup of that sitting beside me. Mmmm...

On Friday, Roy, Jace and I were coming home from Asheville after picking up Harrison so he could spend the weekend with us, and Roy looked over at me and said, "I think I'm getting sick."

I said, "You're fine, Roy. If you have a tickle in your throat, you think you're getting sick."

Yeah. I'm really sympathetic like that.

Once we got home, I got busy getting ready for our faculty family kids who were coming over after vespers for hot chocolate and caramel apples and popcorn. Thankfully, Savana had already done most of the work as the house was clean and she was busily chopping apples when I walked in. (Thanks, girlie.) Anyway, in the midst of all of my busy-ness, I ran upstairs for who knows why, and there was Roy, huddled on the couch with a blanket, shivering, and looking as red as a beet.

102 degree fever.

Wife of the Year Award.

That's me.

Oops.

That seems to be a classic Vonda move. One time when Darian was about 5 years old, we went traipsing through the woods and she was lagging behind. "Come on, Darian! Keep up!" I nagged. Over and over and over again, frustrated. At one point, I grabbed her hand and pulled her along as I was tired of stopping the group to wait for her. And then when we finally got home that evening, it dawned on me Is she sick? And so I took her temperature: 103.

Mother of the Year Award.

Clearly recognizing when my family is sick is not my strong suit.

I was raised in a family where we never went to the doctor, and we never stayed home from school unless we were running a temperature--and that's not referring to a low grade temp, mind you. We just barreled through until we got to the other side because, well, in time we'd be just fine. And we always were. And so? Well--that mentality resulted in me. Thanks, Mom. We'll blame you.

Yesterday I watched this video about this guy who did an experiment with 4 people who were very sick: one had cancer, one had Krohn's disease, one had depression and suffered from alcoholism, and the fourth had diabetes. He talked about how he had done research on our antibiotics and healing medicines and realized that they all came from the rain forest. And yet? We've only done research on a whopping 1% of the medicinal plants that are found in the rain forest. So this guy visited the Amazon and talked to a medicine man who comes from a long legacy of medicine men in his family--and he's the only one left. This group of people live in a totally primitive setting in huts built in or in the midst of trees. And yet? They're joyful; happy. Their lives are filled with wonder and they don't long for all of the modern comforts that we enjoy.

Anyway, this guy takes these 4 people down for 30 days to see this medicine man and live a primitive life away from all of our modern comforts...and they are all healed. They are forced to deal with emotional issues as this medicine man works with them, using different plants and concoctions that he gleans from the earth. It is amazing to behold.

I remember my sister telling me about a friend of hers who went to the Amazon as a student missionary. In the beginning, she cried for weeks because she was so homesick and her life catapulted from craziness and business to ... nothing. The people had no time constraints and no crazy schedules to adhere to. She lived in a hut built in the trees. But after awhile, she learned the beauty of that lifestyle and when her year was over, she came back to the States only to find herself depressed and desperate for the Amazon. And so? She went back for another year.

Our schools often take mission trips to various parts of the earth--Belize and Africa and the Philippines--places that don't have the privilege of our luxury. And the one thing that everyone notes is that these people are joyful. Despite their lack, they live abundantly.

It makes me think that we need to find a way to get back to our roots. Technology is fabulous. The comforts that we enjoy here in the States are second to none. And yet? Clearly we are missing a piece of the puzzle. We have strayed from the bounty we were originally intended to have and chosen a different kind of bounty--and found our souls empty because of it.

I love my life. I have no reason to complain. But I want to step back and find some simplicity. I want to marvel at nature more. I want to surround myself with laughter and friendship and family...more. I want to dine on simple foods more.

I need a lot less of first world problems...and a lot more of primitive.