Well, this is it. Our last week in our first home. I do not consider myself an overly sentimental person but for whatever reason, this move has brought it out in me. Memories from the past 6 years keep replaying in my head. It was a gift in itself that Trev and I were able to purchase this house at the time. But then to think about bringing our kids home from the hospital to it, repainting every square inch, recarpeting every square foot, running around on every square yard, having to mow every square acre... the things that frustrated and worried us about this place in the beginning, now seem like blessings. It's in the middle of nowhere which early on, was lonely. But I can now see God preparing me and teaching me about patience and depending fully on him.
Love builds a home. Cliche, I know but it's true. Our house is nothing impressive and neither is the small country town we live in. But the people. Now they are something to be impressed with. Hard workers, kind, friendly, helpful... Living here has been one of the greatest life lessons for me and I am forever grateful to God for sticking me in the middle of a corn field and cow pasture and giving me the tools to "survive". I am grateful my kids had the opportunity to enjoy country living to it's fullest and socialize with people whose lives are simple and embrace relationships. Growing up in NY, I was not aware that there were places where people still stopped for an afternoon glass of sweet tea, dug for worms and frogs for fun, and drove tractors to school instead of cars.
After 6 years my culture shock has finally worn off and all that's left is a deep heartfelt love for a place that we made home and for the friends we call "family".
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