Week Zero: Breaking in the Trailer

When a week at the beach isn’t a week at the beach.

June 13-26, 2025
Dam Neck Annex, Virginia Beach, Virginia

I’m not sure how to adequately explain how crazy busy we were during the two months before we moved into the trailer to start the trip. Here are a few of the items on our task list from April 1 (when I left my full-time job) to June 13 when the kids finished school and we moved out of our house:

Spring break trip to West Virginia to mountain test the rig.
Hosted 150+ family and friends (~60 from out of town) for Nick’s retirement ceremony, after-party and 20th anniversary vow renewal ceremony.
Nick went to eight doctors appointments as part of the VA claims process and completed most of the check-out & retirement process from his final Navy command
Found renters for our house, did a major purge of every room, and moved everything that wasn’t furniture into storage.
Sold my car.
Nick completed a comprehensive round of maintenance on the truck, replacing all filters, fluids, brakes, and shocks himself (picture above).
Five unexpected trips to urgent care/doctors for random ailments (all good).
Getting through Maycember, end of the school year, and getting the kids ready/packed for camp.

*Saying goodbye to the car I brought these babies home from the hospital in :(*

So on June 13, the kids’ last day of school as we were buttoning up everything at the house, Nick and I were ready to move into the trailer and relax. The kids were leaving two days later for a week of summer camp (endless thanks to the Navy SEAL Foundation). The plan was for Nick and I to spend the week of camp hanging out at the beach, seeing friends, and taking the boat out fishing one more time.

The best laid plans

As soon as we pulled away from the house, it seemed like everything started to go wrong.

On the 20-minute drive towing the RV to base, the truck’s electrical system sounded a warning message: “Charging system. Service now.” We pushed that aside and set up the trailer, only to discover the RV door wouldn’t open. Then the AC wouldn’t turn on. We spent some time troubleshooting those issues. Then Nick pulled a tick off his leg, likely from the nearby bushes. Yay.

The next day, the unlucky streak continued. We got the truck’s batteries and alternator tested at AutoZone, but no glaring issues were found. So we continued with our previously scheduled plans to take the boat out with friends. We hitched up at the house and drove off. As we pulled onto the freeway towing the boat, the dashboard warning lights spewed noise like an unsettled group chat, then the dashboard completely turned off at 55 mph.

After a Saturday of troubleshooting and a trip to a different AutoZone, we found out the truck was, indeed, requesting a new alternator. Two days later, a new one arrived. But on trend, the connection for the wiring harness was broken so we had to order another one.

Two days later the new-new alternator arrived. Nick spent a hot Wednesday morning installing it in a parking lot by the RV park. He hooked it up and some of the error messages went away (yay!). But some remained. Something was still wrong. He spent the following day troubleshooting with a mechanic friend from work who thankfully offered to help.

Thursday night, the kids’ last night of camp, Nick and I were eating dinner in the RV when we saw a puddle of water drip from beneath the bathroom wall into the kitchen. Nick went out to his broken truck to get his tool bag when our new renters called with news that the upstairs ceiling at the house was leaking, leaving a puddle of water in the carpet of the master bedroom. Lovely.

A week before our departure date, every major piece of the puzzle—truck, RV and house—was in disrepair. After months of preparation, we started to question if we were going to be able to leave town on time.

The Acts of the Spirit

Knee-deep in a week of things breaking is a great time to start questioning everything. Questions rolled through our minds like “What are we doing?” and “How do we fix all of this in time?”

Spoiler alert: It all eventually got fixed, one painstaking maintenance hassle at a time.

As we explained the circumstances to friends and church members, everyone had the same response. “Hopefully it’s just getting it out of its system so it breaks now while you have the ability to deal with it.”

We agreed. Far better having a broken alternator with two empty weeks in Virginia Beach than on the Eastern Shore or the open plains of North Dakota. And better to have a leak at the house while we could make the short drive to address it.

Right now our church is doing a sermon series on the book of Acts called the Acts of the Spirit. So for the past few months, our eyes have been extra open to all the ways big and small the Lord is working in our lives—for our good and for the good of His kingdom.

As everything seemed to fall apart, we were extra aware of the people who showed up to help.

Instead of going out in the boat with us, our friends came to where we pulled over, picked up the kids, and took them to the beach. They left us with yummy wraps and the silence and space to figure out what to do next. They also followed us to make sure we got home okay, which we did (Thank you, Tommie & Alisa!).

Another saving grace was Nick running into his mechanic friend at work. As if by chance, they found the one wire (out of hundreds) in the truck that wasn’t completing a circuit and successfully replaced it. It felt like victory when the error messages went away, and we got to return a $500 control module we’d ordered.

Then there was the timing—that all of these unplanned repairs happened while the kids were off having the time of their lives at summer camp. While fixing things wasn’t how we’d envisioned spending their camp week, it was a blessing having the unscheduled time to focus on repairs.

And the biggest prayer request that week had nothing to do with the house, the RV, or the truck. The week before, my dad had a biopsy after a new spot had appeared on a scan. As we awaited the results, I tried not to let myself worry or hold the what-ifs. What if we are leaving town right as my dad is starting a cancer journey? What if this is the beginning of…? What if we will be driving away in two weeks with a strong pull to stay put?

All of these things weighed on my heart. Our community group prayed. The prayer team at church prayed. That Sunday, the sermon included our pastor sharing his own cancer story—a spot inadvertently noticed very early, able to be treated with one surgery. I was reassured that the Holy Spirit heals in many ways. I was prayerful, hopeful that my dad would be cancer free, or in a very early treatable stage.

As we called my parents to tell them about the broken truck, they shared my Dad’s news.

“All of the 13 test samples came back benign,” he said.

Benign.

A week before leaving town for a year, I learned that my dad is cancer-free, no cancer journey unfolding as we’d be driving away. No year filled with hospitals and doctors appointments. No dark cloud overshadowing the long-awaited trip.

Relieved doesn’t begin to describe it.

And now, knowing what we know on this side of July 4th, I can’t help but think of the parents in Texas who would readily watch all of their physical possessions break and plans evaporate if it meant their kids could return safely from camp.

Nick and his friend fixed the truck in time for Nick to jump in the car with me and go pick up the kids from their week away on the Eastern Shore. The next day, Nick spent five brutal hours in a scorching hot attic fixing the AC leak issue at the house and removing and replacing all of the soaked air duct insulation. The RV shower ended up being a smaller repair. Through a lot of sweat, hard work, and trips to Home Depot/AutoZone, everything got fixed.

We resumed our plans to drive away from Virginia Beach on time, our eyes opened to see the people and acts of the Spirit that made it possible—our hearts extra aware of what mattered most.

Thank you, Trinity

Part of our final week in Virginia Beach included Nick finishing up his three-year commitment as a Shepherding Elder for our church. Three years ago when he was recommended for the position, we thought Nick was going to spend the next three years as Deputy Director of his department in an office job with limited travel. We had no idea he was nine months away from an unexpected promotion to Director, with more than a year lapse until a new Deputy would come on board to assist (so, essentially doing two full-time jobs for 15 months while serving as an Elder).

For the last two years, Nick has been absolutely slammed with wall-to-wall weeks of work and serving the church. Aside from wide-open Saturdays reserved for family time, his calendar has looked like it did when he was at the GSB (Stanford Graduate School of Business). Most days it seemed every five-minute block was scheduled out. Having had a front-row seat to his efforts, he did an amazing job pouring his heart and soul into both work and church service. In so many ways, he is uniquely suited for both of these roles.

Our last Sunday in town, our church commissioned new elders and gave us a sweet send-off, praying for our journey ahead.

*Nick’s parting gift from church—the Axe of the Spirit*

The past two years, we have also been serving as leaders of a wonderful community group, having dinner together with three other church families every other Sunday night. This has been an incredibly sweet time of discussing the sermon, sharing prayer requests, and getting to know each another on a deeper level.

*A poorly aimed timer pic (apologies, Audrey)*

The sweetest part has been watching our kids gel. They play so well together, coming up with games and activities while the grown-ups talk. I love seeing the older kids looking out for the younger ones, and my favorite part is when some of the kids sit down to join us. These sweet families have really come to feel like exactly that—family.

*Wonderful last meal together—and a surprise paint party…*

Our last days in Virginia Beach, one of our community group friends stopped by with a parting gift—a beautiful leather bound journal where we could capture the Acts of the Spirit we encounter on our road trip. (Thank you, Natalie!).

During the last 13 years since we arrived in Virginia Beach from Guam newly expecting our first baby and deployments looming, our Trinity Church family has shown up for our Navy family countless times. We are so grateful for every one of you and for the sweet send-off and prayers during our last Sunday in town.

That includes my parents, who helped out in countless ways as we made final preparations to leave town, loaning us their car, their storage space, and helping with all kinds of meals and logistics (thanks Mom and Dad… miss you already).

Goodbye for now, Virginia Beach. If all goes as planned, we’ll see you back here to resume the boat and beach days in July 2026. The Navy has taught us over and over again that plans can change. So, here we go :)

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Hello friends! Inspired by the Year of Jubilee in Leviticus 25, our family is embarking on a yearlong RV road trip in 2025 to celebrate my husband’s retirement from 20 years in Naval Special Warfare. We hope to reset and reflect before civilian life begins.

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For background info on who we are and where we’re traveling, we’d love for you to read the intro post.

The best laid plans

The Acts of the Spirit

Thank you, Trinity

Week One: With Family in Philly

The Mountain Test

Love that goes the distance ♡