A backpack, a Bible, a coloring book, a journal and a list

Part four - a list

When this blog series began there was a pile on the floor next to my hiking backpack. Now, the day before I am set to depart, that pile has dispersed and each item has found a new home in one of many semi-organized piles on the guest bed. Strewn about my once tidy bedroom are packages of notecards, chargers for various electronic devices, my box of crafting supplies, and somewhere amongst the rubble, a list.

The list. The final item in the sea of necessities required to navigate the unknown. The reminder of the fast approaching departure. The only thing separating this double-checking, ready-for-anything, semi-experienced traveler from absolute preparedness. 

The list.

This piece of black and white floral paper has been floating around for quite some time now. It has been toted along on errands, left on the passenger seat of my truck and tossed back atop the pile. Items have been added to its lines while others scratched off and pens have ruthlessly doodles at its corners. 

Scratched on the lines of this page which once belonged on a dollar section notepad are the rambling thoughts of a dazed young woman. 

First of all, there is a list of names.

These names are those of the family and friends I plan on writing notes for before leaving. With a little more than 24 hours left at home this task may be more overwhelming than originally anticipated.

Then there are all the tech-type things that need attending to.

Like showing my parents how to use my Instagram account (they will be taking over my #onehappything project for the next three weeks), charging my camera (still need to get to that one) as well as putting new music and photos on my iPod (taken care of last night). 

The last section on the list was things I needed. Various toiletries, snacks and other random goodies were once jotted down in my curvy, loopy, cursive and eventually marked off. 

Which brings us to toady. June 19th, 2012. There are piles on the guest bed of all the things that in just a few moments will begin finding themselves tucked into that dusty blue backpack. It is leaning against the foot of the bed, patiently awaiting me to work up the nerve to get off my bed and face the fact that even though I am blessed to be setting out on such an excursion, I am going to miss my family. The list is face down on the floor, teasing me for being thrilled, curious and adventurous yet at the same time concerned for my absence. 

There is no more time to waste. The list is being picked up, the backpack is about to be filled and I am going to rely on the Lord to prepare, protect and provide. Until next time - be gentle, be patient, be kind. 

Curiously,
Sarah Jane

A backpack, a Bible, a coloring book, a journal and a list

Part three - a coloring book

With only a week separating me from putting the contents of this small pile into my backpack and heading out of the country, my mind is consumed with the seemingly mile long to-do list that has yet to be completed. What does any mature college student do in times such as these? Buy a coloring book.

Sitting amongst the pile beside my dusty blue backpack is an Alice in Wonderland coloring book. Ever since the Tim Burton version of the Disney classic came out, this literature-turned-into-cinema lover has discovered a newfound appreciation for the timeless tale of adventure and mystery.

When the film came out, my anticipation was through the roof. It came out on March 5th, and I waited patiently to enjoy the film the next day, on my 18th birthday with my sister.  Tim Burton and Johnny Depp helped me to celebrate my special day by gracing the silver screen with their cinematic masterpiece.

(Watching a remake of a childhood classic is a perfectly acceptable manner of ringing in adulthood by the way).

Ever since that time I have had a lingering attachment to all things related to the land of futterwaken, Underland (read the book or watch the movie, Alice mistakenly called it Wonderland and Disney just went with it for the cartoon version).

So while wandering the isles of a dollar store in search of poster board, I spotted the coloring book. Bypassing any degree of hesitation (due to mental promises of escaping the lure of low prices and only buying what the trip was intended for) it was immediately snagged off the shelf.

Now it sits on the floor of my room and a has a purpose beyond that which it was originally intended for.

Sanity.

Little does Alice know, but her adventures will join me on my own. Not as inspiration to chase white rabbits and slay mythical beasts, but as an escape from the trials of three weeks away from home. Comfort comes in unique forms for everyone, and for this globe trotter (well, aspiring globe trotter that is) comfort comes as little reminders of innocence and joy, and in simple pleasures. So to whoever sits next to me on the plane, my apologies in advance if the light bothers you or if the sound of colored pencils scratching a page proves to be a nuisance.

Curiously,
Sarah Jane

A backpack, a Bible, a coloring book, a journal and a list

Part two - a Bible

The small pile sitting to the side of my backpack is a sign of the most daunting yet thrilling task to come. That task is going. 

There are actually two Bibles in the pile. One, a New Living Translation study Bible. The other, a small brown leather Holman Christian Standard Bible. 

The first Bible was a gift from my parents on my 16th birthday. Its pages are worn and full of highlights, and a good half of the tabs have broken off thanks to a fall in the gymnasium at my university. This Bible has a bit of a sad story, as it was lost for a year.

When this Bible went missing it was searched for high and low by multiple people. Countless cars, homes, bookshelves and lost and found bins were scoured in hopes of its return. All to no avail. This disheartened Bible toter turned to the small leather version in hopes of it serving as an adequate placeholder until the study Bible was rediscovered.

Over the course of a year the leather Bible became worn. Its leather cover softened and worn spots began to show. The pages slowly gained markings, notes, bookmarks and highlights. It even traveled. Tossed in along with other various travel necessities it rode in backpacks and bags all the way to China, took a road trip to the Vietnamese border, flew to Orlando, Florida, and found itself in the historically cattle driving, Bible-belt South of Texas, better known as Fort Worth.

After all of the adventures and quiet times of a year had passed, this once disheartened Bible toter sat in the newsroom office busily editing articles. On a fluke, a New Living Translation Bible was noticed sitting on the bookcase on the opposite side of the room.

Upon closer inspection the dedication page read, "To our daughter, on her 16th birthday. Love, Mom and Dad".

Tears welled as I realized my longed for possession was not only no longer lost, but had been right in front of me the whole time.

So now two Bibles sit in the little pile next to my backpack. Each have provided scriptures that have molded and shaped me over the years, and each one has its own share of stories. One of the tasks on the list that rests atop the pile reads "transfer notes in Bible". For some reason, the task of matching the markings, notes and highlights in my two Bibles has been being continuously postponed. It cannot be left undone indefinitely as one of these Bibles will soon be being packed in that dull dusty blue backpack.

It is the last task that needs to be completed before my departure. Perhaps this is my minds way of reminding me how daunting this global excursion feels at times.

Curiously,
Sarah Jane

A backpack, a Bible, a coloring book, a journal and a list

Part one - a backpack

There is a hiking backpack from the 1970's sitting on the floor of my room. Next to it is a small pile consisting of my Bible, an Alice in Wonderland coloring book, a journal, and a list scribbled on black and white floral paper.  

Then there is me. Sitting on the opposite side of the room, laptop on the bed and phone beside me, not knowing how to proceed in the task of preparing for my ensuing time abroad.  

Let's begin with the backpack. It has a story all its own which is about to become intertwined with my own. 

This backpack belonged to my father, who after a weekend camping trip two summers ago decided it was time to pass it along to me. Its story begins in the 1970's when my father was a firefighter and hiking backpacks with internal frames were the newest and hottest thing on the outdoorsman market. He carried this backpack to fires, living out of it under the harshest of working conditions, and loved it. When he wasn't toting it along to wildfires my dad used it for the purposes the great minds at Caribou Mountaineering had in mind for it - backpacking. 

It came as a surprise when he offered the backpack to me. We were standing in the garage, clean of the smell of dirt and pine for the first time in days and busily putting away our camping gear. Somewhere in the middle of handing off the tent and asking where the sleeping bags belonged he told me to try on the backpack. With a few tugs at straps here and there the backpack hugged me as if it was meant for my body. Smiling both from the memories he had with the dusty blue bag and the fact that his daughter remembered his instruction on how to properly adjust and carry a backpack, he told me that if I wanted the backpack it was mine from that point on. 

Which brings us to now. There is a hiking backpack in my room, waiting to be filled with the usual goods of an international trip. Its fabric is a dull dusty blue, it has leather patches that serve a purpose unbeknownst to this traveler, and its bungee cords and equipment straps are mustard yellow as are its zipper pulls. Just looking at it you can tell it has a story. Soon, the stories of countless wildfires and hiking trips will have a new companion, the story of how a girl took a backpack to a far off country.

Curiously,
Sarah Jane