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As I drive towards the lower part of the state, the memories of my childhood slip into my mind and fill my heart with longing. I remember; I am remembering.

Warmed by the sun, the rows of rich dirt promise crops will soon emerge and provide for the families along the grass rutted roads that lead who knows where, to who knows who, whom, who. The pads of my feet step into the dirt there as it sifts through my toes clinging for but a moment, leaving behind only powdery dust that covers my feet clear up to my ankles. Along the way I pass fields picked almost clean of cotton. Small tufts of white cling to the stems and bolls, left there to rot. I pull the long stem of a weed that when bent and pulled shoots its flower pod in an arc and lands forgotten in the side ditch. I see in the distance a barn, it lists to one side. All that remains of its past usefulness is hay seeping from the rafters providing nesting shelter for field birds and other critters I hope not to encounter. A frog hops across my path surprising me. I am delighted. I am free. I am happy. I am part of this land. I am coming home.

Though I don’t live daily in these parts, nor do I swat at persistent gnats, I do carry with me the sense of home here. Longing to return and dwell here with my forefathers and kinsmen known and unknown, I get a glimpse of what my life in my heavenly home will hold for me. Never having lived there, nor felt the wispy wings brush past my face, I long to return and dwell here with my forefathers and kinsmen known and unknown. Lord I pray that when the time comes, you will gently take me by the hand and lead me back home. I’m not ready to go yet, but I know your preparation will welcome all my senses and replace my longing with comfort, peace, joy, and contentment. Thank You and Bless You for Your promises I know are real and true.  Amen



All Things Bright and Beautiful
Text: Cecil Frances Alexander
Music: 17th cent. English melody

All things bright and beautiful,
all creatures great and small,
all things wise and wonderful:
the Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
each little bird that sings,
God made their glowing colors,
and made their tiny wings.

The purple-headed mountains,
the river running by,
the sunset and the morning
that brightens up the sky.

The cold wind in the winter,
the pleasant summer sun,
the ripe fruits in the garden:
God made them every one.

God gave us eyes to see them,
and lips that we might tell
how great is God Almighty,
who has made all things well.



2 thoughts on “Home”

  1. Beautiful , Jan !

    Margaret Smith, ABR®, CRS®, GRI®, SRES®
    Coldwell Banker Caine
    Cell & Text: (864) 270-1108

    “Celebrating 40 years in Greenville Real Estate”

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