I was the designated booking agent for our first annual sister’s trip; and Joy told me to book our second night hotel in Rockport. She said it was a charming seaside town with interesting shops and plenty of fresh lobster rolls.

 

We’d discussed various things to see and do while in New England and agreed our main objectives were to see fall foliage and eat lobster rolls. Joy said she’d love for us to see Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park off the coast of upper Maine, but Maine was further north than we had time to venture on this trip.

 

Our flight arrived in Boston after midnight and everybody was at the point of silly-tired by the time we claimed our luggage. When Judy made us take our first three-sisters-picture in front of the floor to ceiling mirror in the ladies room, we all dissolved into giggles.

 

We were truly exhausted; and it was wonderful to finally fall into our beds at our functional and clean, but non-descript hotel outside Boston.

 

The next morning, awakened by our hotel’s “gradual awakening system”—which was how Judy’s sleep-deprived brain perceived the morning sun glowing around the curtain’s edges—and fortified by a first-things-first stop at Starbuck’s, we set out to see New England.

 

The foliage was gorgeous along the drive; as was Good Harbor Beach where we stopped and admired the Massachusetts shoreline. Our giggles returned when we tried to casually position ourselves in the background of a German movie being shot in the beach parking lot.

 

Next stop was Rockport. As soon as we got to town, we called the hotel I’d booked to see if we could check in early and drop off our luggage, but our rooms weren’t ready yet.

 

True to Joy’s description, Rockport was New England seaside picturesque. We clambered over the cobble beach and took pictures on the boulders; then wandered through the small shops on the street lining the shore.

 

We sat on a deck by the bay and ate steaming hot lobsters—straight from the lobster boats behind Roy Moore Lobster Co to the stockpot to our buttery fingers.

 

Finishing our afternoon off with ice cream, we headed toward our vehicle so we could check into our hotel and then decide what we wanted to do that evening.

 

A problem surfaced when GPS couldn’t locate our hotel’s address. I knew it existed because I’d booked our rooms there and had spoken to the front desk earlier that day. Fortunately, I’d taken printed copies of our reservations and retrieved them as soon as we got to the car. I handed them to Joy—happy to let her sort it out—because she was the one who’d told me to book in Rockport.

 

She looked at my papers and said, “You didn’t book our hotel in Rockport, MAINE did you?”

 

And I said, “I booked it in Rockport. Just like you said.”

 

As it turned out, there’s a Rockport, Maine AND a Rockport, Massachusetts; AND they’re 3 hours and 19 minutes apart. But the best thing about traveling with your sisters is that you can laugh at just about everything, if that’s what you choose; and we do and we did.

 

We laughed about my booking confusion the entire trip; and my sisters shared the story about “our sister” with people we’d never met, everywhere we went—a nice police officer, an antique shop proprietor, the apple orchard owners, our waitress at The Franconia in New Hampshire, the store clerks in Vermont and on and on and on. And we’d laugh all over again.

 

The three best things about the trip were: the laughter with my sisters, the buttery lobster rolls, and the beautiful foliage. And my take-away lesson was: be sure I find out the state, as well as the town, before I make an on-line hotel reservation.

 

There are all kinds of reservations in life to be made; and I’m every so heart thankful that my final destination reservation was made a long time ago. No confusion there; and I’m anticipating lots of laughter when I arrive.

 

Straight from Jesus’ mouth to my ears and heart:

 

 

There is more than enough room

 

in my Father’s home.

 

If this were not so,

 

would I have told you

 

that I am going to prepare a place for you?

 

John 14:2

 

YES!

 

I love God’s color palate; and this year’s Japanese maples drenched in strident purples, sizzling reds, Popsicle oranges, and blinding yellows almost defied sensibility. They reminded me of a busted bag of Skittles generously spilled and bounced out all over the floor; and their late-blooming neighbors—fuchsia and coral azaleas—didn’t inspire much awe spread underneath the maple’s flamboyance.

 

Several years ago I happy-color painted my way through the house. My son made me smile when he teasingly told me that the results were akin to walking into a Pixar movie. I laughed; and then reminded him that he no longer lives here.

 

It’s hard to put too-fine a pointed word on it, but I do know that I’m at home in happy colors.

 

At year-end 2015, nametests.com, via a random Facebook post, informed me that my “word” for 2016 was “joy”. That pleased me to no end because I’d been actively seeking joy for some time. It also pleased me that it criss-crossed with a long-standing tradition Dan had established in our church’s Christmas Family Communion service: in the softly-lit quiet of each family’s gathered moment, he’d give them their word for the next year.

 

I love words and particularly love having a word. So I’m pleased to report that my 2016 was filled with joy. Self-fulfilling expectation? Perhaps. God’s blessings spilled out on me? Definitely.

 

I searched nametests.com this morning, but they’re offering different questions this year; which is just as well. And I’ve chosen my own word for the coming year: aware.

 

Stay posted.

 

“Now learn a lesson from the fig tree.

 

When its branches bud

 

and its leaves begin to sprout,

 

you know that summer is near.

 

In the same way,

 

when you see all these things taking place,

 

you can know that his return is very near,

 

right at the door.

 

I tell you the truth, this generation

 

will not pass from the scene

 

before all these things take place.

 

Heaven and earth will disappear,

 

but my words will never disappear.

 

“However, no one knows the day or hour

 

when these things will happen,

 

not even the angels in heaven

 

or the Son himself.

 

Only the Father knows.

 

And since you don’t know when that time will come,

 

be on guard!

 

Stay alert!

 

Mark 13:28-33

My word.

 

My word.