June, Havasupai, Dana

Look at these photos.  

Absolutely grand.  

I've heard about Havasupai for years as my Grandpa Hunt and my mom would tell stories of this amazing oasis in the middle of the Arizona desert, hidden on the edge of the Grand Canyon.  The possibility of a family trip opened up this year.  I made reservations back in February for ten of us, my parents, 6 siblings, and one brother-in-law, to hike down this month.  But from the very beginning, I had knots in my stomach about the trip.  It had nothing to do with the fact that it was an eleven mile hike in, with everything I'd be needing for three days carried on my back.  I live for adventures like this.  I just wasn't sure I should be going.  And I didn't know if the doubts were created from within me, or if they were the gentle nudgings of the Spirit.  Was there some imminent disaster awaiting us?  Or something I needed to be home for?  Or should I be putting my focus or budget somewhere else more practical?  Was it really ok to take a week off?  I knew I needed to figure it out, but I put off the decision making, hoping the anxieties would work themselves out.  

About 3 weeks before our go-date, with the same hesitancy nagging at me, and only a week of leeway to cancel if needed, I buckled down and faced the situation.  I talked to a sister who had some of the same realistic hesitations-cost, leaving kids, time away from home, etc.  We considered some different options.  I put a lot of effort into praying and pondering.  I ended up making a list of possible goals with a list of possible options.  With everything on paper, it finally hit me how much I really wanted to experience Havasupai.  The urge to be there was so strong; I was fully committed.  So the preparations began.  

Let's mention here that in the back of my head, I'd also had the nagging thought that I needed to call and confirm my reservation.  I'd lost the confirmation number, and didn't want to show up without it.  Another action that kept getting put off.  Exactly one week before we were to hike in, I finally got on the phone and asked about our reservation.  Here's the conversation as I've replayed over and over:

"I'm coming down with a group next week and can't remember my reservation number"

"When is your reservation date?" the lady on the other end asked.

"June 10-12"

"What's your name"

"Dana Robb"

"I don't show any Dana Robb in June.  The only Dana Robb I show has a reservation for April 9-12.  You missed your reservation."

"I'm sorry?"  I must have heard wrong.

"And we are booked up this month."

"You're kidding."

"Ok."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I'm sorry, we're booked in June.  You can't come down"

"I have 10 people planning on this, some all the way from Montana and they're already on their way.  What am I supposed to tell them?"

"Ok."

"I know I requested June 10-12."

"Ok."

"We never even considered April."  

"Ok."

She just kept saying ok, no matter what I said.  I could tell she wanted me off the phone.  But I wouldn't let her go.  I kept pressing.  Hoping.  Pausing.  Repeating.  Waiting for her to offer something (the mistake was theirs).  But nothing.  I hung up and sobbed.  I was angry at myself for not following up on the prompting months ago and getting everything cleared.  I was desperate to avoid letting my whole family know our trip had been cancelled.  And I was confused.  Why was I getting a 'no answer' now?  Why didn't it happen two weeks ago when I wasn't even sure I wanted to go?  I could have easily accepted a 'no answer' then.  But I could not accept it now.  Let me explain a little about 'no answers.'  We've been practicing them a lot in our house.  We even play "The No Game."  The idea being that when mommy says 'no' the child says 'ok.' And then has to be ok with it.  If the child says 'ok,' mommy sings a silly song about 'being ok.'  All in the hopes of training these cute kids of mine to stay cute even when the don't get what they want.  

Here's how the game is played:

Asia: Mommy, can I have some chocolate?
Mommy: No.

Asia: OK.

Mommy: (starts singing) Asia said OK!  Asia said OK!  Yay!  Yay!  Asia said OK!

Then Asia gets to say no.

Mommy:  Can I dye my hair blue?

Asia: No.

Mommy:  OK.

Asia: (starts singing) Mommy said OK!  Mommy said OK!  Yay! Yay! Mommy said OK!

We take turns, it's lots of fun and in fact, Asia will come ask if we can play the game.  

But now, I was getting a really big 'no answer' and I wasn't liking it one bit.  I was not okay with it, and I was not acting okay.  It took me a long time and a long drive to calm down.  I called a sister and we discussed options.  I spent hours looking through my house hoping to find the confirmation number.  I looked at emails trying to prove when I registered.  I had my husband call the Havasupai reservation office.  (He never got through.)  I prayed. I even asked for help from my Grandpa Hunt beyond the veil.   And then finally, I decided to make one more call.  It took all the courage I could muster.  And when a different voice answered the phone, I decided to pretend that that earlier call had never taken place.  

"Hi. I'm wondering if you could look up my reservation number."

"What's your name?"
"Dana Robb"
Pause.

"I don't see a Dana Robb anywhere."

That was different.  At least earlier I was somewhere.

"Would it be under a different name?" he asked.

"Maybe." 

"Or how about a phone number?"

I gave it to him.

"No, that doesn't pull anything up."

Okay.  It was real.  We weren't going.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Dana Robb."

"Do you remember who you talked to when you made your reservation?"

"No."

And then a conversation in the Havasupai language began with someone in the background.  I heard my name mentioned.   

He came back on the line and said,

"It looks like whoever made your reservation put you down for the wrong month."

Ya, I knew that.

"But here's your reservation number."  He gave me a number.  "Just bring that when you come next week."

I wasn't sure I heard correctly.  

"So we can come next week."
"Ya."
"And all I need is this number?"

"Yep."

"Oh, thank you!"

I hung up.  Stunned.  A little afraid to feel excited.  It took awhile to sink in.  But we were really going!

A friend called later that night and we discussed why this had happened.  She'd been aware of my previous hesitations.  And her insights were helpful.  I'd struggled with justifying the cost, the time away, and the time needed to prepare, before coming to the conclusion that this was something I was willing to sacrifice for.  And I had come so close to losing it.  Now I'd be going with a completely different perspective--knowing how close I had came to not having it, would allow me to appreciate it that much more. 

Can I just say how true that was? 

Even after the reservation mix-up was resolved, I had the premonition that this mis-scheduled reservation wasn't going to be the only obstacle to present itself, but I had the assurance of knowing that whatever happened, my Heavenly Father would get me there.  I knew He could overcome all obstacles.   That's why when three of my children came down with high fevers on Friday afternoon-two days before leaving-making it impossible for me to pack or clean my house and prepare to leave for a week, I didn't panic.  Even though when my kids left for grandma's on Sunday night they were still feeling sick.  (I did feel a little guilty, though.)  That's why, when my babysitter called me on Saturday morning to let me know her work didn't honor her request for time off, leaving me without a sitter for two of the days, I didn't worry.  Even though I wasn't sure who would be watching my kids until I was halfway to Arizona on Monday afternoon.

But oh, it was all worth it. 

11 hour drive.  Midnight hike.  5 hours in.  Light breeze.  Clear sky.  Bright stars.  Full moon.  Perfect.  Came on to Havasu Falls as the day dawned.  Breathtaking.



Two days in the most beautiful clear turquoise waters.  Two days without stress, without kids, without responsibility.  Two days of pushing my physical limits and coming out of the canyon feeling more alive than ever.

Three weeks have passed since Havasupai and I can still feel the spray of mist on my face. I can hear the roar of the water falling over the canyon wall.  I feel the wind swirl around and pull me back.  I can visualize the clear turquoise pools caused by the travertine.  One of the great majesties of God's creations, and I feel privileged to have experienced it.  This whole experience taught me to put my trust in God.   It was a personal tutoring session with Him.  A reminder that with God, all things are possible. All of the trials to get there only made me appreciate it more.  Isn't that how life is?  The more we struggle to achieve something, the more it means to us.  The closer we are to losing something, the more we desire it.  

I've learned that we need our challenges:

1. to strengthen us
2. to feel God's mercy through the process and 
3. to truly appreciate the reward, or relief, in the end.  

All I can say, is it's worth it.