Going and Coming Home

What a marvelous Thanksgiving we have had. It started out with Leah flying to Winston Salem, Sunday a week ago. We picked her up after teaching our little four year olds in Sunday School, and took her out to lunch with a quick stop at Dillard's in "town." (That's what I call Greensboro when we go there to pick up people from the airport. We don't have a kitchen area in our Dillard's in W.S.)

We halfway put up a tree on Sunday night and celebrated Christmas with her on Monday night, since she is off to Singapore in 3 more days. We left bright and early on Wednesday morning headed for my sister, Linda's, in Jonesboro, GA. We had smooth sailing all the way to the Atlanta Airport to pick up Matthew around 3:30, and he only had a 5 minute curbside wait until we got there. How's that for timing? That was the end of our smooth sailing for 2 full hours. What should have taken only twenty minutes, turned into 2 hours of bumper to bumper creepy, crawly traffic, but that was OK, because we had our two children in the car and the front seaters were a captive audience.

We got to my sister's house around 5:30 and had a bountiful meal of Red, Hot and Blue ribs and pulled pork and chicken, along with all the side dishes coming from the local rib shack that Randy and the kids had somehow located. Needless to say, the house was a flurry of activity as we all began to prepare for the next day. Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and sunny, which is unusual. My mother used to tell me how GA had been in drought conditions for the good part of the year, and then I'd go home and it would inevitably rain. I remember as a child, sitting in the car at the Green Stamp trading store while it poured, thinking, "I will never live in GA when I am old, because it rains too much." My mother was inside trading in her green stamps she had collected and that I had licked and prepared for her, and when she got back in the car, I told her of my new decision. I don't think she believed me, but I know she eventually did, as we have never lived in GA since Randy and I married. Of course, now I would say that because of the traffic!

Getting back to Thanksgiving Day...my mother used to worry about my sisters and I not getting together after she was gone. No worries. We have a "sister's weekend" once a year and have been to places such as Asheville and Savannah, with Baton Rouge being the latest. Thanksgiving is our big day with all the families getting together to give thanks for all we have. This year's was the biggest of all. We had first and second and third cousins together for the first time since we were all kids and had those old timey reunions in South GA. I believe there was a total of 29 of us. Needless to say, everyone brought something and it was just too much, but it was also too good, so no one did too much complaining.

I guess what blessed Randy and I to pieces was that our children were under one roof again. The phone would ring and I knew it wasn't for me because everyone who called us on a consistent basis was right there. It was very comforting. I know now how my mother must have felt when she knew we were all tucked in our beds once again only a room away. Which brings to mind...HOME. Matthew and Leah always say, "It's nice to be home," when they get to Winston Salem. Randy and I think that is so funny, as we have only lived there for 2 years and they are only there a few days at a time when they visit. They each have their own rooms--Leah's is the same, I just painted her furniture black and added a new comforter along with granite tops on her dresser and desk, and Matthew's was all new, so there is not a drop of familiar in his downstairs room, but he especially always says, "It's nice to be HOME." I say the same thing when I go to GA. I said the same thing when we crossed over the GA line into FL as we headed south to Orlando on Saturday. We went to the church that I had worked at in Windermere for Sunday services, and I said it again as we pulled up and saw so many familiar faces. My dear friend, Gail, who had also worked at the church, and her husband David, had invited us for dinner on Saturday night, so we made a plan to rendezvous at the church for 11:00 services. We all sat on the same pew, along with Jared, a roommate and friend, and Pastor Chuck acknowledged these "two wonderful ladies" he had worked with for years and our families. It was great to be HOME.

The first year I was in Winston Salem, I missed the love and acceptance of home, and I truly believe that is what makes home, HOME. You know the saying, "Home is where the heart is." Well, I have finally determined that LOVE is where the heart is most happy and that's where God wants us to feel at home...LOVE is His greatest gift (1 Corinthians 13.) I used to tell the Lord during those days of transition, "Well, Lord, if Windermere is the only place I will ever experience that kind of love, 'tis better to have been that loved and lost, than never to have been that loved at all.' (Sorry, Elizabeth, I took a little creative license there to make a point.) I had no idea at the time that He had some wonderful people that He had divinely set down at Brookberry Farm, and a couple of them asked me right off the bat to lead a women's Bible study. I think I've told you before that we started with 9, a year and a half ago, and are up to 23 now. It's amazing the love we have for each other. We are all ages, but we have a love connection that won't quit. The ladies just keep inviting their neighbors in, or they see how close we are and want to be a part. One lady moved into the neighborhood BECAUSE she was told by her realtor there was a Bible study. Every time we put the word out for a new study, we get well-wishes from those who can't attend due to work schedules. I love it and can't think of anywhere else I would rather be than at Brookberry Farm. It is home.