Life growing up on a small farm in rural south Georgia was filled with lazy summer vacation days alternated with long work days; each punctuated with country cooking from my Mama’s four burner stove. It might be the best fresh vegetable soup ever tasted filled with fresh corn and tomatoes garnered from the garden by the house that very day or it might be brown, crusty fried catfish Daddy caught on the ‘Lapha River. Either was mighty good eating. On the down side, the old house we lived in existed before central heat and air units and we felt rightly blessed when we got an attic fan. We really thought that was something. For you city folks, that would be a fan located in the ceiling, usually in a hallway and the windows in the house had to be raised to draw the air in and to circulate it throughout the house. Bear in mind, it was usually bringing in hot air but it was moving air never the less. Well, as I grew up I had one thought in mind. Even though this was a nearly perfect picture childhood of simplicity and goodness, I vowed to live in a comfortable, modern house when I left home. Life had already started playing tricks on me even then.
Actually, I did live in several modern and very comfortable houses but life was just toying with my emotions. Now close to fifty years after my declaration of seeking comfort above all else, my husband and I must have reached senility at a fairly young age because we decided to move into his parents home. It is a grand old home full of history and character and, you guessed it, over 200 years old. It is also full of drafts, cold air or hot air depending on the time of year and the comfortable days are not as frequent as the uncomfortable ones temperature wise. It has been so cold that the water froze in the toilet and so hot that the doors started sweating.
However, It was my husband’s fondest dream to live in his childhood home and this was also the desire of his parents. I did not share that dream. I am, however, a good wife and thought to myself, “Really, how bad can it be?” See, life was really not finished with me. Pretty much at the same time that we began to get the house ready for move in, my husband’s job took him away from home several days of the week. Do you see where this is headed? There are thirteen rooms and a steep stairway in this colonial home and all needed something done to them. Each room had to be repainted. That was my job. With some of the rooms bearing ten foot ceilings and me afraid of heights, things got pretty difficult at times. We will probably never be finished with the rooms but round one has been completed which is a miracle in and of itself.
This has been a great learning experience and one that has helped me do things I never thought I could. From standing on tip toe atop an eight foot ladder to just dab a little paint on a spot on the ceiling to catching invasive lizards with a set of kitchen tongs, I have become a much stronger and more confident me because none of this was easy. Strangely enough I feel I have come full circle to the young girl growing up on the farm. Now I can sit on my front porch and rock back in forth watching deer graze a little ways up the road while our horse stomps out a command to be fed in the pasture in front of me. An eagle lands in a tree to my right and rabbits, birds and squirrels abound. It is in those moments that I know why I am in this spot at this time and I know the God of all creation planned this time just for me. I believe God allowed me to revisit my childhood to remind me He revels in sharing simple times with His children and I am thankful.