On Sun Pillars

Before insta-fam, before closing businesses, before shifting careers, moving, and cancer, my hubby and our only son at the time visited my sister in Florida. She lived on the Gulf-side of the state and we pasty-fleshed ‘land lubbers’ were delighted to experience our first legit trips to a beach there under her savvy guidance. As it was nearing sunset one evening and we were packing up to leave, I noticed that many other people had just begun to arrive! Confused, I questioned my sister about it. She told me that people like to watch the sun go down at the beach. Additionally, she explained that sometimes when the sun goes down and the conditions are just right, a pillar of light stretches up from the horizon right after the sun goes down. Huh...so we stayed to watch the sun go down, too. It was beautiful, but sadly there was no “sun pillar” that evening.

Since then, we have had the good fortune to visit San Diego once or twice per year in the off-season. We have it down to a science now. My hubby and older children fling off their over-clothes, run past the winter-clad Californians into the frigid surf, and party like it’s summer in Idaho. It’s easy because it FEELS just like summer in Idaho, only instead of feeding on grasshoppers, the California seagulls maintain a steady diet of cheese puffs and cigarette butts. But other than it’s just like summer in Idaho. While the others frolic in the surf, my youngest daughter digs a million holes in the sand and I perch at the top of the beach watching them all and defending our cheese puffs. We often play until the sun goes down at which point I often ask if we can wait to see if there’s a sun pillar. In the seven years I have been watching for one, I have seen many beautiful sunsets, but still no pillars.

Last week’s trip to San Diego was a little different than most. Because of my recent adventures in health, I am trying harder to live without regrets. So this time when my kids and hubby went swimming in the chilly outdoor pools, I went along, too. When they asked if they could pick songs for us to listen to, I quelled my Master DJ urge and acquiesced, even when the request was the chipmunk version of “Old Town Road.” Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t miraculously become SuperMom—we drug five kids through an airport and LA traffic, for goodness sake. I still had a conniption when I found a salsa stain on the boys’ white hotel bedspread, spanked a few bums over contention (the irony of this is not lost on me), and may have uttered a swear word or four. But I legitimately did try harder to cherish the moments better, say yes more, and to eliminate distractions this week. That included one moment that seriously surprised me.

We had just packed up from a whole afternoon at the beach and—in a stunning turn of parental decision-making—had agreed to take our kids for ice cream. One of my children asked why more people were arriving at the beach when it was clearly about to get dark. I suddenly felt that old familiar pull to ask if we could stay for the sunset and watch for a sun pillar. My husband had kindly accommodated this request many times on past excursions, much to the chagrin of my tired, sunburned, sandy-crevassed children. He would keep the troops at bay in the car while I would gaze at the horizon...and watch….and wait…..and snap a gajillion photos with my cell phone (I don’t wish to brag, but I’m pretty much a professional phone-tographer at this point...) Eventually (or, as the troops would say, “FINALLY!”) the sun would go down and we would head back in the dark to wherever we were staying. And I would selfishly relish my “nature moment” completely blind to my family’s wishes.

But not this time! This time when I felt that momentary pull to inconvenience everyone else at the end of a wonderful day in order to selfishly seek another elusive sun pillar, I felt a “Son pillar” of a different sort and consciously decided to continue my awkward efforts of the week to put my family FIRST.

And the evening did not disappoint. When we cracked open the Walmart freezer door to the Ben and Jerry’s section, it was as though angels sang as the fog literally rolled out over my wide-eyed children who couldn’t believe we were going to let them EACH pick their own pint to work on over the next couple o’ days!

Then another miracle happened. As the waves of cold fog settled in on their damp clothing, children and hubby alike broke forth into subtle “Skip to the Loo” dances which culminated in the quickest ice cream flavor selection in the history of large families! As they sprinted to the Loo, I sprinted through the checkout and, in record time, we were joyfully zipping back to the hotel for hot showers and a binge-watch of every Disney sitcom until the sugar comas overtook us. I’m so glad I chose family that night.

But the story doesn’t end there, my friends. Nope. Heaven has better in store than we can even imagine. After a full week of imperfect but still lovely togetherness, we drove home from Salt Lake City (from whence we had flown). After three hours, we pulled off of I-15 and turned west atop Sage Junction for our final descent into the valley of our farm town desert home just as the sun set behind those purple mountains.

‘And what to my wondering eyes should appear?’ The dream I’d been chasing these past seven years! A sun pillar! A magnificent, glorious, beautiful sun pillar. It turns out that ice crystals in the atmosphere are helpful in the manifestation of sun pillars. It also turns out that raising a family where there are ice crystals in the atmosphere is a great place to raise a family.

It also turns out that many bugs on a windshield make it difficult to “phone-tograph” a sun pillar so my sweet hubby, much to confusion and ultimate delight of my children, put his off-road driving, bunny-hunting skills to work and plowed off the steep side of Highway 33 so I could capture the moment.

I thought the rest of the way home about what a tender mercy this was. I had been worrying the whole drive home about how to perpetuate my efforts to better cherish my family amidst the fast paces of real life at home. I was feeling like I definitely need heaven’s help to make sure my fatigue, pain, stress, and fear of the unknown don’t get the best of me in the coming weeks and months. And, as I always do when I pray, I was feeling very calm and comforting reassurances that He would help me as I continue to lean on Him. And then He sent me a sun pillar. The thing that I’d been seeking in getting away, I found in more wondrous beauty than I could ever have imagined right at home. I recognize that in that moment He was not only reassuring me, but also reminding me that I have all the love and laughter and family and adventure and friendship and hope and peace that anyone could ever hope for in this very valley. I am so grateful. I hope that I can always remember that sun pillar and, more importantly, always remember and try to follow the one who created it all. He is the true light of the world.