Wednesday, March 25. It was a day that had been on my calendar for months. And a day that I had been looking forward to for the better part of a year.

It was going to be the day that my husband and I were supposed to board an airplane - just the two of us - and fly to a white, sandy beach with calm, clear waters and stay at an Adults Only, all-inclusive, slice of paradise.

Yes, it was going to be the first day of vacation.

When my second mom informs me that her and her husband are planning to go somewhere nice - just the two of them - she says it like this: “I’m taking Gail and we’re going to “run away” for a few days.” In which she laughs and smiles that ornery, twinkle-in-her-eye smile of hers.

And vacations can feel like that - like we are “running away.” Running away from the responsibilities that we have and the burdens that we bear. 

And for me, it’s a break. A break from making warm chocolate milk in the morning. A break from giving baths and enforcing bedtimes. A break from teaching my older two their homeschool lessons. A break from my responsibilities at the church. A break from the dishes, laundry, meals, and “wash, rinse, repeat” cycle of motherhood altogether. 

Vacation is a time where we leave all of the distractions at home. Instead of picking out a meal plan for the week or a set-list for the weekend, Jeremiah and I simply bother ourselves with picking out the right spot for our lounge chairs under the glorious Caribbean sun. 

Yes, vacation with my husband is something I definitely look forward to.

The commitment that we make to each other in those few days away every year is to our marriage - solely and specifically as husband and wife. Because one of the convictions we have is: if we invest in our marriage now, there will be dividends of a {healthy} marriage later.

And so, we “run away” every year. There’s lots of hand-holding, laughing, teasing, deep conversations, and let’s be real…days without the kids?!…there’s a whole lot of naked!

So, when we had five days planned to “run away” as husband and wife, I found myself getting more and more unsettled as the Coronavirus pandemic started sweeping our nation and newsfeed. There were a lot of uncertainties, and going on vacation was definitely one of them.

At first I was in denial. Denial that all of the things that were happening around us - would actually affect us.

How wrong I was! 

Yet, in my denial, I continued to touch base with the ones that would be watching my children in my absence, and was narrowing down my search on a new luggage set on Amazon (as mine had broken from last year’s trip).

And then we had that honest conversation regarding our vacation that we both were ready to go on…

It was like I was finally able to look at the elephant in the room - in the eyes. I knew it, he knew it, and that dang elephant knew it.

There would be no “running away” for us for a while.

Now, if it were just Jeremiah and I, we would have gone - risked traveling, risked being quarantined on the end of the trip, and, yes, probably risked the virus itself.

However, it hasn’t been “Jeremiah and I” for the better part of nine years. We have four children that depend on us! And no matter how badly we wanted vacation, were excited for vacation, and were ready for vacation…there was absolutely no wisdom found in us going on vacation. 

We had a responsibility to protect our children! And that word “responsibility” had never felt so itchy before.

When I began to potty-train my daughter, I found the cutest little set of panties in our 2T tote of hand-me-downs. They looked so strange on her small butt and long-legged frame after seeing her in a bulky diaper for nearly two years. 

However, as she got the hang of using the toilet, she not only earned those panties, but they suited her. I found her responsible enough to take herself to the toilet when she needed to go, and holler for me when she was done. She was finally a “big girl” and worthy of wearing those “big girl panties.”

But responsibility is itchy sometimes. 

Growing up, we all want more of what is being handed out…like being able to wear big girl panties, and having our bedtime moved to a later time, and owning a phone, and keys to a car… 

But panties need washed and alarms need set and cars need gas and phones need to have their bills paid. 

Right!?

I realized that wearing my own big girl panties meant that we had to cancel our vacation. And the denial I was in was soon replaced with disappointment. Deep disappointment. The kind that has you sobbing in the tub after the kids go to bed. 

Call me selfish or spoiled…but there I was, feeling every bit of it. 

The definition of disappointment is: the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations.

I knew that we had made the right, wise…even responsible decision! But being completely honest - there was some sadness and displeasure that accompanied it.

I called my travel agent the next morning and told her that we were going to have to cancel. She was prepared for that and informed me that the country was closing anyway. I silently assured myself that there would be more days with my husband under the Caribbean sun - just not on March 25 this year.

We ended the call and I went on with my day.

A few weeks have passed since then, and my denial that turned into my disappointment has become something new altogether. Instead of feeling sorry for myself (even if only briefly), I’ve found a new rhythm in our world-on-pause order that all too many are experiencing…

It’s called delight!

The Bible says that we are to “delight ourselves in the Lord and He will give us the desires of our heart.” (Psalm 37:4)

And I find myself leaning into that.

I know that "this too shall pass” - just like Grandma always says when something terrible comes along. I also know that there will be more vacations with my husband. So in the meantime, I’m taking a special delight in this season - soaking it all in. 

Instead of “just the two of us” - it’s the six of us! Instead of enjoying the white, sandy beach and calm, clear waters, we are enjoying our spring-green yard and budding trees. Instead of everything being included, I’m concentrating on including everyone. And lastly, instead of enjoying a slice of paradise somewhere else, I’m grateful that we have our own little slice - right here at home. 

Big girl panties are itchy sometimes, but I sure like the way they fit.