Yosemite: The End

I would have finished posting the Yosemite pics last week

but I got busy in my weekend role of Tour Guide.

My cousin Emmie and her boyfriend came to visit us

all the way from the Netherlands.

April flew down to spend time with the Europeans as well.

It was a great weekend.

And I didn't take a single picture!

kicking myself now.

But here's the last few highlights from our camping adventure:

Nothing reminds you just how Big God is and how small you are

than a violent thunderstorm.

The day started off like this:

And within a few hours turned into a torrential downpour,

bright lightening, earth-shaking thunder, and bb-sized hail.

We got caught about a mile from camp.

And the rain fly wasn't on the tent.

RJ had Landon strapped to his back (who mercifully slept through

most of the rain and woke up just as they got back to the tent.)

So I volunteer to run ahead and get the rain fly set-up.

Have you ever ran at 9,000 feet?

After only jogging at sea level

I started our briskly.

Determined to save my family from drenched sleeping bags.

Jumping streams, leaping over boulders, and splashing through puddles.

And then I rounded a bend knowing RJ couldn't see me anymore

and threw my head between my knees

gasping.

Praise the Lord our comfort wasn't left completely into my

out-of-shape hands.

When I finally arrived at the tent a friend who was in the same

campground was tying down the fly.

We managed to throw most of our stuff into the bear locker.

And dove into the tent.

Landon screamed for nearly 15 minutes in fear

as hail pounded our frail Coleman.

But then we all climbed under the sleeping bags, snuggled-up,

and he squealed with delight at the family cuddle time

(and the potato chip treat.)

It was a sweet family moment.

But not so sweet that we didn't pack it home early when

we saw the clouds the next day.