If a pain & cancer-free body and freedom from frugal existence were prerequisites for travel, I’d never leave home. Christ, common sense, and coffee coasted with me. There were over 100 miles left and both tanks, gas & body, were nearly empty. “Faith” was at my feet. This rock was a gift. Miracle!
“She wants me to go up there,” my son exclaimed. His wife’s lengthy stature and arms both waved from atop the hill. He darted up the dusty path! As if seasoned climbers, they both cautiously came down. “He needs water!”, my daughter-in-law uttered. My son grabbed bottles and the couple dashed up the trail again at record speed. The heat was dangerously high and dry. Although the Rio Grande appeared cool with its flowing water, the bodies were not accustomed to this heat. Signs across the National Park begged warned visitors to carry ample water supply. Unfortunately, the only water the endangered hiking couple had was pouring out of their veins. Fortunately, the man’s health improved as my son and daughter-in-law helped with his hydration crisis. The four of them cautiously and gingerly descended. Miracle!
“We prayed for you,” I shared with the exasperated, sweat-drenched, kind older woman. At 5 years old, Asher seemed uncertain about praying for strangers. “We all need prayer,” exclaimed the thankfully rescued hikers. A happy ending for all. Miracles!
The multicolored desert sky surrounded by the Chisos Mountains turned pitch black at nightfall. The loss of electricity one night also made for perfect stargazing conditions. Oh, the joy of camping! We spoke of galaxies, shooting stars, and God’s power. Tears of tiredness, remarkable rock ravishing, and fossil fascination. Wonders of the world, wrinkles of the skin, and the exuberant joy of childhood. Long drives and winded conversations. Walks of discovery, no-holds-barred hugs, dances of delight, and impromptu stops to love more family. Tales of time that rushed like a roadrunner. Miracles!
Camping in the cactus-filled desert reminded me of the dry crumbs I sometimes use in conversation. These dehydrated discussions terminate the truth. Will you muse on the miracles? Or about the hardships of humanity, fears of the unknown, or ghosts of the past? Or the Spirit that can bring life-giving water?
One year ago, today, I felt spooked. Countless vials of blood, tests, and a countdown to a life-altering surgery. My rare cancer explained years of unknowns. Family and friends have loved me through it all. A faith that has sustained me through every fall. Miracles.
Fear? It will never own me. Miracle!
Do you know YOU are a miracle? And…YOU ARE LOVED!💚
Have faith 💚…from Texas to Oklahoma to Missouri…to every state and corner of the globe.
Embracing imperfection with faith, flannel, & fresh air
Welcome back to Missouri, my friends! Grab a cup of coffee, a map (or Google), a canoe or floatie, or a chair if you’d rather sit on the bank. There’s a Missouri-shaped piece of me filled with music and memories. In a world of war, tragedies, devastations, and unknowns, will you join me as I marinate on marvelous?
Music motivates, mends, melts, and maintains me. Mountains moved by my Creator (and ones I’ve climbed physically and spiritually) magnify my life’s music. Chords of change. Lines of loss and love. An opera of optimism. Songs of divinity, dirt roads, and divorces. Tunes of time, teaching, travel, and tumors. Melodies of my Master, motherhood, moods, and manners. Hymns of hope, heart, humility, and heaven. My life is my Master’s musical.
Bluegrass, blues, country, and jazz, many types of music give Missouri pizazz! (Faith and Finley Tour Missouri-K.L. Hale, 2021, Finley River Publishing)
My Childhood River –Finley
Hawkins Ford Bridge was built in 1915 by the Canton Bridge Co. (Canton, Ohio). It has a total length of approximately 160 feet (80 feet-largest length) and a width of 11.8 ft.
Is it any surprise I chose the Finley River first? A “one and only unique” instrument made its debut one summer day years ago on the Finley. Here’s an excerpt from my post, A River and Honey., “Missouri had other old iron bridges. I knew a song about a bridge in London, but it wasn’t MY bridge. The Hawkins Bridge was THE gate to our kinship kingdom. A pavilion of possibilities, pranks, and purpose. Biscuits were fried in cast iron in an open-fired stone oven. The chiggers, ticks, spiders, and all other Ozarks’ crawling critters couldn’t stop us! Nor the blazin’ sun! Us younguns’ were coated, schmoated, lathered, and smeared with sticky white protection! The Wilson clan cluttered and counted the cottonmouth along the Finley River. Circled and seated on sacred stones, we gathered as Uncle Orie strummed his one-and-only homemade pew organ! We giggled and sang along with his one-hit wonder, “Swish Swish, Boing Boing” (It never made Casey Kasem’s Top American 40, but it was my top hit)!
The Finley River flows east to west, most of its 52.8 miles are in Christian County, Missouri. Check out something else great on the Finley! ⬇️
Johnny Morris, conservationist and founder of Bass Pro Shops moved the Ozark Mill (built in the early 1800’s) to the banks of the Finley. Finley Farms and the Ozark Mill is a must-stop destination if you visit! Coffee, shopping, history, nature, and so much more! (pics by K.L. Hale-2023)
Finley Farms
Let’s head to the Southwest Ozark Hills of my late teens to 20’s …to now…
Before sunrise, the trout siren would blare at Roaring River State Park in Cassville, MO. Sleepy eyes and hopeful little fishermen, along with their Dad and I, would crawl out of our outdoor homes (a.k.a. tent or Pop-Up camper) in hopes of snagging our limit of rainbow trout. Around 250,000 fish are hatched and stocked at this most-visited state park in Missouri. Fish guts and giggles made my “no-hit wonder songs” more gleeful!
Pics by K.L. Hale 2023 Roaring River State Park, Cassville, MO
Country hits by Johnny, George, Garth, Conway, Merle, Dolly, and Reba~classics from James Taylor, Jewel, Anne Murray, Whitney Houston, Queen, and Journey~heartfelt harmonies from The Gaithers, The Gatlin Brothers, The Crabb Family, and The Isaac’s~epic movie soundtracks to sing-alongs with Disney. Another favorite, the Eagles, soared through the airwaves along the river banks of home. From “Peaceful Easy Feeling” to “Peace like a river attendeth my way.” It will always be well in my soul.
Sedentary, like the rocks on the banks of the Current and Jacks Fork rivers (meeting in Eminence, MO) my two young men and I, coated with sunscreen, grubbed around the gravel searching for state-shaped rocks to make a USA map. A two-hour treasure by two rivers, with two tremendous boys.
Two Rivers State Park —two rivers, spring-fed and littered only by timberland trails and beautiful bluffs around bends—was the first national park area to protect a river system. In 1964 Congress authorized the formation of the Ozark National Scenic Riverways (ONSR). Crystal clear water, beautiful bluffs, and this “third-largest spring-fed river in the United States provide opportunities to experience some of the most beautiful wilderness Missouri has to offer.” (Environment Missouri Research & Policy Center, 2013).
Music and Memories stay afloat in my soul. My faith, just as my favorite MO rivers, never runs dry.
Did you know the Buffalo River was America’s first designated National River (1972)?
Although the Buffalo River is in Arkansas, it’s like “home” to me. Flowing through the Ozark Mountains in the Ozark Plateau, its breathtaking blue is formed from the limestone it cuts through. From Ponco to Kyle’s Landing, Boxley Valley to Lost River…hiking Hemmed-In Hollow to the Goat Trail. If you visit SW MO, you MUST visit Northern Arkansas. Waterfalls, the gorgeous rivers, bluffs, caves, and trails will welcome you with open arms (just like I will if you visit my area!).
Pic by K.L. Hale
Can you hear the melodies in Missouri’s small mountains? Listen to the songs sung by the rivers. Can you hear the tunes of the trees? Missouri’s earthy ensemble edifies our environment!
If you love Missouri’s music, you’re probably a bluegrass fan! The Ozark Hills host amazing jamborees and gleeful gatherings! The Society of Ozarkian Hillcrofters (founded by Otto Ernest Rayburn (1891-1960) hosts an annual “Cabin Fever” concert; from folklore to folk songs, bluegrass concerts to the most important goal—to preserve the Ozarks, promote conservation and education, and cultivate an interest in the unique Ozarks history of people, places, and events. My recent return to my former little home included a night of bluegrass and laughter!
Enjoy these two videos from that night of knee-slappin’, toe-tappin’, belly-laughin’, tear-formin’ fun!
Sylamore Special!
Please laugh!
Living in the Ozark’s is like getting a huge hug from humanity! Giggles and humor soothe the soul!
Have you heard of Branson, Missouri?
Silver Dollar City (1800s theme park), music shows, Table Rock Lake, diverse shows/theaters, go-carts, mini-golf, and fantastic food make the “Live Show Capital of the U.S.” a perfect family-oriented destination for fun! Cruise the 76 Country Blvd “strip” for tons of attractions! Make sure you stop at Andy’s Custard, visit the Titanic Museum, walk the Landing at Taneycomo, and visit the College of the Ozarks! (#3 in colleges of the Midwest).
Do you remember my RV days? If you’re pulling a camper, or desire a night in a treehouse, check out my former “home”, Branson Treehouse Adventures!
Have I convinced you to find your M-O in Missouri? Please holler at me if you ever visit! We can grab a coffee, head to Bass Pro, stop for custard, hike a trail, listen to music, and my favorite…talk about the goodness of friendship and our amazing God.
My camping chronicles conclusion. It’s been fun “camping” with you, friends. 💚
“They gave me 3 months to live,” she said, looking at her girlfriend. “It was January of 2020.” A lump formed in my throat-tears stung my eyes. My heart sighed; I nodded. With complete empathy, sympathy, and understanding, I listened as this 60-something-year-old stupendous stranger shared her courageously epic account (and how Covid made everything worse). The colorectal cancer metastasized to the liver. There she stood…THREE years later! A thriver, her friend, and two furry cuties were camping in their cool and compact R.V. I smiled. They were my neighbors at site 35.💚
How cute are those dogs? “Adorable!” I thought. A Yorkie (I’ve rescued one of those before) and a precious tiny white Shih Tzu. The gal without cancer exclaimed, “Finley!”, as the Shih Tzu jumped up and down to greet us. Immediately, I looked at MY Finley in my arms. Camping coincidence?
“We were trying to think of a name, and we crossed the Finley River…” …her voice trailed off as I looked around for a camera. Is this a joke? DO THEY KNOW ME? With a dropped jaw and stunned face, I looked around for someone familiar. The ladies just stared at me. (Insert cricket sounds). Will they believe me?
Karen and Teresa were so kind. They asked if I was camping alone. Gulp. Should I share I have cancer that metastasized to the liver, or will they report this “crazy woman” or try to move their camper away from me? I felt like Kristin Wiig from a skit on Saturday Night Live years ago where she ONE UPPED everything that was said. “Oh, you have cancer?” “Well, so DO I.” “Yours metastasized to the liver?” “So did mine!” “You have a dog named Finley?” “I gave birth to my dog, Finley (are you laughing out loud? If you’ve seen her skit, you know why I typed this and I hope you’re laughing) They believed me as we laughed over our “coincidences”. We marveled at the miracles and connections. Later we even shared food.
The following day, while relaxing and listening to “Marco! Polo!” echoing from young shadows at the lake, I had another camping coincidental call. A friend, and former work camping neighbor at the resort where I lived/worked, was diagnosed with cancer recently. His wife, also a worker and dear friend, shared the devastating news about the metastasis of his stomach cancer to the liver. The 3 of us spoke by speakerphone. There were tears, questions, some confusion, shared understanding (and even laughter). Karen said, “We’re not giving up are we, Karla? We’re going to fight it for family.” She wanted Rich to hear this. Rich agreed he’d do the same. At that moment I marveled, AGAIN, at how God connects his creations.
This is the OTHER Finley River and Teresa in the background!
Camping wasn’t an escape from cancer. Cancer needed camping. Fires burned with hope and humanity, shared stories, and a common love for the outdoors. Cancer found a content companion. Camping coincidences?
“God, with you, it’s not a coincidence. It’s soul serendipity and divine destiny.” My nature retreat was a rejuvenation of my soul. Away from the noise, angry traffic, and worries. It cleared my soul and mind; it gave me super soul stories.”
Thank you, friends, for supporting me and reading my shorts, The Great Escape. How do you find a soul retreat? It doesn’t have to be miles away. Although my life is different in many ways, I can find “retreats” in each new day. It’s still in the silence of the morning, a sip with my Savior, songs of the birds, giggles of the grandkids, and the gathering of the geese. It’s my 3 F’s-Family, Friends, and Faith (make that 4-Finley🐾). It’s in possibilities and loosely hidden in the now.Can you find it?
Have faith 💚
Have you heard of NET, yet? 🦓
Tomorrow I have an appointment with my oncologist. This is a very important one. Will my blood be fine to move forward with last treatment in a few weeks? How does he see my progress? What is my next step? Can I have sleep aide please? When will the next scan be scheduled? This Wednesday I will be participating in a Virtual ZOOM support group from the Los Angelas area. LACNETS https://www.lacnets.org/ is a community of support, education, and advocacy. There are approximately 175,000 of us living with this rare disease. Recently, I shared my story with them. I’ve watched survivor videos for hours. I’ve yet met another person with this cancer that has been deemed “inoperable” due to metastasis to the bones. Perhaps I will. I struck gold finding them!
If you feel alone, feel free to reach out @ finleyriverpublishing@gmail.com. God-willing, me-thriving, you’ll hear from me within a week. If you know of anyone in a similar battle, or could use encouragement, feel free to share my site and information.
Take care, sweet friends. You are loved. No matter what. 💚
“What do you see? What do you know?” I asked the big tree at site 35.
Tree replied, “I’ve been here many, many, many years. Years before all these people. The birds know what I know. The squirrels know what I know. See the geese family parading by? They know what I know. The possum, the woodchuck, the insects, and the grass know what I know.
I see people and their cars, RVs, and trappings. Hanging on to a lost art. Forming (or clinging to) a tradition. Attempting face-to-face, fires & fireflies, kids riding bikes, and the great escapes. Yet, more heads are down, and lines are blurred. Do you see that mother desperately needing attention? The Dad is stoic and stationary. The elderly couple made it by the skin of their faith- just now learning what it takes. The cancer survivor needs peace and hope. See that couple? They’re hanging on to their marriage by a very thin rope. That family of four has the least of stuff. They already know too much is just fluff. The dogs bark and play and provide fellowship. What do people today really worship?”
“Only one God created me. Do not worship me, said the tree. Just enjoy me. Nature is my home, my roots run deep, and my love never changes-it’s a promise I keep. No matter the things, the place, or the frills, what truly matters is what God fulfills.”
K.L. Hale
“We’re all sons and daughters, just ripples on the water. Trying to make it matter, until our time to leave. One day they’ll carve your name in stone, then send your soul on home. ‘Till then it’s praying for rain and pulling up the weeds, planting trees we’ll never see.”-Trees We’ll Never See (Amy Grant)
Thank you to my dear friend, Kim, for sharing this song. Enjoy this, friends.
Have you heard of NET, yet? 🦓
Did you have a good Memorial weekend? I pray you are all well. The timing for this holiday (and time out of treatment) was perfect. The echoes of small and precious voices ring throughout my quiet home. The voices of the adults I so love echo too. Hugs, love, playtime, food, …family. The perfect crowd. Handprints I don’t think I’ll clean. Memories made. It didn’t matter that the cancer is still here because so am I. Love and adrenaline boosted my energy. God provided strength. I’m resting now.
I’m 7 weeks out of my 3rd treatment. Typically, it’s weeks 7-12 that are my worst. For years I’ve known my symptoms and now, after 8 months, I’m familiar with when the P.R.R.T. side effects occur. My blood counts are dropping and my hope keeps rising. Thrombocytopenia is caused by low platelets and red, and white cells. Often I worry about my blood. As great as treatments can be, they also have many side effects. My feet might tingle and my bones hurt. It’s a hard balance-sitting versus staying active. There are a few new symptoms. If next week’s blood draw gives evidence of TOO low counts, I can be boosted. If you’ve followed my journey you know that this cancer can be masked by hypoglycemia (a type of diabetes), I.B.S., diarrhea, menopause, diabetes, arthritis (which in addition, doesn’t help the bones), and many other abdominal type issues that might go missed. Do you have unexplainable symptoms? If so, I encourage you to speak to your primary doctor. Be an advocate for yourself. Share what is going on. Don’t give up!
Thank you for your continued support and prayers. As my doctor stated, “This is a marathon, not a sprint!” Since it seems I’ve been in this for a while, I do find myself wanting to hand off the baton at times. God has his reasons. I accept it and will gladly continue my marathon with all of you helping to wipe off the sweat, put ice on the injury, yell in the stands (Batter Up!), and pray to our Great Physician. We all have our own marathons. Mine is no worse or better. It just is. Rather than compare our races, let’s all support the fact we’re in it together. “We’re all sons and daughters, just ripples on the water. Trying to make it matter, until our time to leave.”
