Home Again

My son and I arrived home last Friday after eight days on the road. We drove from Seattle down to Bakersfield, CA and then across Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee and then to Alabama. We went through California because this time of year, it's not easy to find all the roads open through the Rockies. We had to load the UHaul trailer. He had moved all of his heavy furniture into a storage unit, but had not packed any of his kitchen, baths, closets, etc, so had tons of boxes still to be loaded (and he lived on the third floor).
There were times both he and I were ready to give up. Taking the stairs that many times was killing us, we were both exhausted, and there seemed to be no end in sight. Add to that the fact that the landlord's husband came by while we were still loading the trailer to "inspect" the apartment. He kept walking around saying he "couldn't see the carpet because of the boxes." Well, duh. We finally convinced him to come back the next morning so we could have everything out.
My son had a huge deposit, so he's hoping he gets it all back. He was super careful with the apartment.
We figured out quickly on the road that we could not drive above 45-50 with the trailer before it began to fishtail all over the road, even though we did our best to distribute the weight on the wheels, and we put all the heavy weight on the hitch. So it was a long, slow trip.
We were exhausted when we got home, but it was a good trip. We saw the Grand Canyon, the Sequoias, Meteor Crater and The Mystery Spot. We had a long time to talk, and did very little arguing. He was a very easy person to travel with.
We had one bad motel experience (when he found a clean pillowcase over a bloody pillow!) and after that, we got a lot more careful about where we stayed. I came home even more of a germ-a-phobe than I was when I left.
When I got home, I had a new living room floor waiting. Yes, folks, after all that time of griping about hating my living room carpet, it's gone! I have a Trafficmaster Allure Oak floor, and I love it. The boy that helped my husband put it down said it was a horror to put down, though. I was hoping to get it throughout the house sooner or later, but I guess I'll have to be happy with the living room and hall for now. I really like it.
We are going to the Baptist church near our house for Sunday School and church. The lady who teaches my Sunday School class is also one of our neighbors and plays cards with us, as does her husband who is my husband's SS teacher. We have a big class, mostly women older than me, a truly senior class. Each week I go, I leave angry. This week, the lesson was about how to be saved and how there is only one way. I know how Baptist's believe, so I was not surprised by the lesson, even though I have broader ideas of God's mercy. But during class, they began to talk about Judaism, and how the Jews still take sacrifices to the temple every Sunday (what?), how there are a lot of stereotypes about Jews (then the Jew jokes came in, but only as an example of what we should not say, of course.....). Then they switched to Mexicans, Buddists, on and on. Basically how they feel uncomfortable around those foreign poor, misguided people who don't know the truth, or are different from us in other ways.
By the time class was over, I was exhausted, mostly because my emotions were raging and I kept my mouth shut. (I've seen people try to disagree with this teacher and it wasn't pretty.) I asked my husband if we could go home and just skip church, and we did. Then I came home and started wondering why it is that I seem all gung-ho on going to church when I start; then I always start finding things I don't like until I end up quitting completely. Of course, I figured the problem has to be with me, as nothing could possibly be wrong with the SS teacher, as everyone just loves her.
Then I tried to think last night where I feel comfortable with God and religion. It was standing underneath one of the Sequoias, looking into the Grand Canyon, watching a mother with her baby, holding a newborn puppy. That's when I feel God and when I feel closest to God. I don't feel him at all in that church building where we go. I can't seem to box up my image of God into a neat little package like they do at church. I feel "different" which is uncomfortable for me.
Ok, I used this post to vent, because this has been bugging me. Is it me? Is it them? My husband doesn't agree with everything they say, but has not problem going along. I am not good at going along with things I don't agree with.
Well, I'm glad to be home. My daughter and grandbaby are coming up next week. I can't wait to see them. So far, it's been a good year.