I am so busy. There’s no time for lunch with anybody. (Who are those women who “do lunch?”)  Frank is busy too. We haven’t had a complete conversation in weeks. The kids are also busy. Their recreational, social, and spiritual calendars are booked through next year. I didn’t send out Christmas cards in 2001. I had high hopes for 2002. Maybe I’ll send the family photo for Valentine’s or Easter or for Independence Day. I could do a whole patriotic motif. Busy, busy, busy.

         Ooops. A friend of mine told me to stop using the word BUSY. She suggests, instead, to say that life is FULL. She has decided that BUSY means Buried Under Satan’s Yoke. On the other hand, she says that FULL means Faithful Under the Lord’s Leading. She also contends that being BUSY is exhausting and being FULL is exhilarating. Being BUSY is self-directed and being FULL is God-ordered. Sounds terrific, but I wonder if my life would be better characterized as BULL. (Buried Under the Lord’s Leading.) After all, I am exhausted and I am doing my best to serve the kingdom and a few of its inhabitants. Isn’t it better to “burn out” for Jesus than to “rust out?” Isn’t the harvest full? Aren’t the workers few? Don’t the days seem shorter? Will the toilets ever clean themselves?

        I’m not complaining—and I believe my friend’s theory has some merit. When God orders my (full) day, there is peace and fortitude, no matter how many demands are made on my body, mind, and soul. However, I can’t agree with the part about exhaustion. I go to bed exhausted at the close of many days when I know that I have served the Lord wholeheartedly. Whether I’ve been overly busy or full, I realized it was time to get away.

         I couldn’t remember the last time Frank and I got away together. I mean really away and really together. On a recent Sunday afternoon, we locked our bedroom door and tried to find some “alone time.” One of the kids knocked and we told them to go away. Five minutes later, the phone rang. It was Capri calling us from the second phone line in the basement. “Hi! Whatcha doin’?” Frank explained we were napping and hung up. Sure, we love our kids, our relatives and our friends, but it was so wonderful to be all alone—for three whole days—on an island—in the Caribbean. When we landed in Freeport on Grand Bahama Island, we learned that the Bahamas are actually comprised of 42 islands. Grand Bahama is known to be low key compared to Nassau and Paradise Island, but it is their largest island, with a whopping population of 40,000 people.