This Place

This is a special place.

It’s not just the beauty here. Or the sound of the ocean here. Or the sunshine and the salty air here.

It’s not the awayness or that I don’t wear shoes and I feel the sand in my toes here.

It’s not just that I’m resting here and not working here.

It’s all those things but not just those things.

It’s the love here. From the people here. For fifteen years here.

It’s God here and what He does here.

My heart is especially open here in this place. Because of all those things. The beauty and the rest and the people and the time spent. The conversations and fun and laughter.

There are tears here too. And sadness sometimes. And hard stuff.

Because real life has happened and the beautiful sunrises and the waves and finding seashells doesn’t change that.

And the ocean won’t take away real life.

But to be with people that love you and know you and that you feel at home with in this place…..this place you love….. is good.

And it can heal you.

Because these people you love…..they love you back.

And God uses these people and this place to show you His love.

Because when you walk beside the ocean and the waves crash around your feet and you look toward the horizon and can’t see the end of it……….you see the vastness of it all. That God created it.

God feels big and that feels good.

And He loves you with an everlasting love.

In response to the Discover Challenge Finding Your Place.

13 Years Here

The renovations on the inside of my childhood home are complete. The guys we hired to do the hard stuff have done a fantastic job and it’s beautiful.

Tomorrow we’ll begin to move our life from one place to another. I’ve already moved some of the small stuff. Boxes of old pictures, books, and wall hangings are there at the new house.

But the old house still holds most of our things. And memories. Lots of memories……13 years worth. It’s been a good place to us. Lots of good times have happened here. We imagehave the best neighbors in the world and the most beautiful country roads you’ve ever seen. The people here are hard working people. The kind that stop to talk to you when you’re walking on the country roads. They’ve heard we’re moving….so they stop and ask about it.

I’ll miss that. The community I’ve felt here. I’ll miss Mr. Billy and his wife, Brenda, stopping by in the fall and blowing the horn for me to come out of the house to see if I want to buy 25 lbs of sweet potatoes or some collard greens. We always visit awhile and I look at pictures of his sweet great grandchildren.

I’ll miss Mr. Jimmy. His 30 plus acres are right beside our place. He let the kids stomp and romp all over that land. They fished in his ponds, climbed on his hay bales, rode his horses, borrowed anything from his barn (as long as they put it back), and built forts there, too. They’ve long since outgrown all that but they will remember imageit forever.

I’ll miss our Christmases here. Our live tree took up almost the whole living room but it was okay because it was Christmas. And we barely had room to open the gifts when extra family was here.

I’ll miss the walks on my country road. The quiet and beauty. The cotton growing, the horses neighing, and the cows grazing. ┬áThe sound in the summer of the crickets and frogs and cicadas. The pecan trees and blackberry bushes.

We’ve grown in this place. Not just older, but better. Along with the good, there’ve been hard times here, too. We’ve laughed and cried here. We’ve been healed here and loved here.

It’s all been so good to us.

I’m so thankful for the years in our little home in the country.

In response to the Daily Post’s Neighbors