About six months ago our family was able to expand our property line by an additional twelve acres. It took Adam several years of planning, saving, and negotiating to sign those final contracts. As with anything worth having, the sacrifice stretches our limits. However, I find peace in the simple rewards. Joyous squeals coming from my kids who are playing down by the creek. The hum of our antique Ford tractor at the base of the valley. Freshly cleared four-wheeler trails...made by us, not by our trespassing neighbors. These sounds. These views. These moments. Irreplaceable.
I credit my dear Adam for this beautiful place we call home. With the help of God, he realized our dreams and continues to do so. Our home is perpetually changing. He fixes, builds, plants, and cuts down. It never ceases. His ambition is one of his best qualities. I support him as best I can and bring him down to reason when his imagination runs wild. As we grow more and more accustomed to being married, we learn to trust in new ways. When he says, "I can create that!" I rarely question. And when I say, "I can beautify that!" he rarely questions. When it comes to our home, we have found our niches and developed our rhythm. Working together, our home flourishes.
Rain or shine, we take advantage of every minute. The land allows our lives to be full, yet simple. We cringe on days we leave the sun shining at home to attend engagements elsewhere. And, for the most part, we look forward to the work that is constantly begging to be done. There is great satisfaction and pride within every completed task. And when the day is done, we retreat to the comfort of our lovely house...or to a crackling backyard fire.
If you would have asked me fifteen years ago what I thought my life would look like now, my answer would have paled in comparison to what it truly is. Life is so much more than people, places, things, and actions. It's also full of colorful adjectives and lively adverbs that give depth and meaning. But words often fail...because there's no way to accurately describe heaven. No, my home may not be perfect, but it's the closest place to heaven that I've been to so far.
