A tour through the tiny town of not quite 10,000 people left me feeling somber. I did not see any young people... no hot spots, no Starbucks, no shopping of any kind really, and not many restaurants except the ones I didn't like. Plenty of nursing homes, abandoned store fronts and uneven brick roads helped me come to the immediate conclusion that this would never be a place I would choose to live. Ever. I remember walking into a little boutique (which, even as a college student, I thought was pretty cute and I remember thinking "well, at least the town has this"). A woman approached me and asked me if I needed help. When she saw who I was with (my "friend" and his mom) the following conversation revealed that she was a second or third cousin of Eric's - once or twice removed, they weren't quite sure. This struck me as odd. I have a total of six cousins in existence, who all live in opposite corners of the United States. I have never really had close relationships with many of my external family members, since distance was always such an obstacle. Did I even have second cousins?
It was the holiday of Easter that had brought me to this little neck of the... cornfields, of which, in my family, was celebrated with just me and my siblings and parents and an awesome ham. Eric's entire family was present for this particular feast, and after I had met his mom, dad, brother, sister, sister's boyfriend, aunt, uncle, grandparents, cousins and their spouses I had just decided to claim the title of "Eric's girlfriend" because explaining anything else was just getting too complicated. (Yes, that is how it happened, folks.) Eric's familys' roots ran deep in this town and it was evident everywhere we went. Driving around the country led us past old farmhouses occupied by relatives of all sorts. I never thought in a million years that I would grow to love those stretching corn fields.
Fast forward nine years. It is August 17, 2011. I step inside an empty house that belongs to Eric's grandmother, who recently moved into a nursing home. Though there is nothing inside this house, I can still picture the furniture that used to hug every corner and the old pictures that adorned the walls. My 11 month old is resting on my hip, my two year old is... somewhere. And I am thinking, "This is it. Our new home. Lord, you promised to prosper me, not to harm me. Please make good on that promise. Please."
Hardly a week had passed since we had moved into our new home. I opened up the front door one morning to find this sitting on our porch.
This was a big deal to me. Moving (which included leaving my family behind) was so hard - emotionally and physically. We were receiving gifts from strangers and finding fresh home grown veggies delivered to our door step. This town showed my sweet little family more love, generosity and acceptance in several weeks than I ever could have asked for. And it helped. The outpouring of friendship reeled me right in.
My 21 year old self had no clue what my 30 year old heart would yearn for, yet it was those initial judgements that I clung to which shaped my negative view towards this town. As I watched my eldest son climb on a combine for the first time with his daddy and ride off into the fields, his excitement erupting into giggles and questions and ear to ear smiles, I knew this was the best place for me to be raising my two sons. My husband was happy to be doing what he loved doing. My children were loving farm life and all the dirt, big wheels and green it had to offer.
We have since found a church that we love, friendships that are blessing us richly, and both Eric and I are using our spiritual gifts to serve others within the community. I always run into someone I know when I am grocery shopping or running errands in town. I have a "usual" at my favorite coffee spot. My hair stylist is a dear friend - getting my hair done turns into a girls night on the town. So is the receptionist at the doctor's office up the road that my boys and I frequent in the winter. Only in a small town can you walk in the doors of a business, meet someone you think is friendly and end up scheduling a play date a few weeks later. But one of the best things is when a friend's child sees you across the aisle at the store and runs to you with arms wide open. We are doing more than cultivating friendships here. We are growing a family - a network of people who genuinely love each other, caring about the lives of every member.
I was very judgmental when I visited this small town a dozen years ago. I surveyed the area, made claims against the place and decided them to be true... A town with no Starbucks could never offer me a place where I could be inspired to write. I don't see any young families walking around so there must not be any which means I will have no friends. The churches are so small, there is no way I will be able to serve in the same capacity as my previous church with 5,000 members. There are no good restaurants anywhere so Eric and I are never going to be able to go on a date again...
I have very limited eye sight. I am so thankful for a God who sees the big picture. And I am so blessed to say that He proved me wrong with every single one of those claims. Sure, there are times I get frustrated that I have to drive 25 minutes to buy organic fruit, and I really wish my favorite sushi restaurant wasn't 45 minutes away, and it sure would be nice to have the boys' doctor and dentist a little closer, BUT I love running into a friend when we are dropping our kids off at sports camp and spontaneously decide to grab a cup of coffee, and I am so thankful that we live so close to family, and I ADORE the fact that the boys can go to work with their daddy and learn what it means to work hard. Life is slower here.
But life is fuller here.
I have learned an important life lesson through this journey. Just like my momma taught me to never judge a book by its cover, or a person by their outsides, I should never judge a situation or circumstance before completely immersing myself in it. I don't believe I've changed either. I'm still the same woman - with the same wiring and past and experiences and fears as my 21 year old self - but I've allowed myself to grow. Judgmental attitudes stem from the fear of personal growth. Often we stunt our own personal growth because we are afraid of what it means for our future - and it feels safer to stay where we are. I still love visits to the city. I will never embrace the farmer's flannel. I just can't. But I have allowed myself the opportunity to embrace a life full of richness and blessings, and I have grown so much in the process.
Eric and I recently took the boys on a bike ride through the town. We rode through neighborhoods, down Main Street, through the fairgrounds, passed the train tracks, around the hospital, through the park and even stopped for ice cream. We invented a game as we pedalled along, waving at everyone, mostly people we knew. The game was called "You know you live in a small town when..." We laughed at some of the scenarios we had experienced since we had moved here. My favorite was "You know you live in a small town when you call to order a pizza and the pizza guy on the other end of the line asks for your name, exclaims, "We have the same last name! We must be related!" and come to find out... you are related."
This is the kind of town where friends trade home grown tomatoes for fresh farm eggs. It's the kind of town that rallies behind those who are ill with benefits and auctions to help support families during difficult times. It's the kind of town where everybody knows your name... (sing with me!). It's the kind of town I want my children to grow up in. It's the kind of town I want to live in.
I think I've come along way. For those of you that know me well, I actually started listening to country music the other day. I know, shocking. It's all about choosing to grow... blooming where you are planted. Embracing the life God has in store for you because He knows best. And He knows what I like better than I do.
