..."This place remained my home..." Ulysses S. Grant

    For many years I have had a dream. I put the pieces of my life together that gave me a passion, and formed a "love of things". Things of old. Things of meaning. Things from God.
I have pictured a life hand picked for me. A life that is both traditional and not traditional. A simple life. I used to take walks up-town in the historic village we live in and gaze in awe at the craftsmanship and hand work that was behind each spindle and each nook, carved into the frames of the historical houses that fill the streets here. There is something that speaks volumes about a town littered with the past. Personally it gives me hope. It provides a sense of resistance to change, and that I like. Others may scoff at it. I, well... drown myself in it. A time when pride poured from the souls of our family and friends generations ago. When hard work was rewarded and people didn't quit.
It has been 1 year since the very first steps Michael and I took towards buying our dream house, a piece of history that would forever link us to this precious little town. On a whim I decided to advertise my house for sale on Facebook...a tiny 900 sq. ft. house that only had two bedrooms and one bathroom. The house we started our lives in as Husband and Wife... and the house we brought our precious baby girl  home to. A house that was filled to the brim with joy and toys. Sometimes messy, sometimes not. Sometimes it was a sanctuary...and sometimes it was a pain. But it was ours and we cherished that tiny little bungalow. That was a hard decision. But God told me, 'just do it.' So I did.

I sold that house in one day. To say that God was testing our faith and providing for us is an understatement. But I will talk more about that in another post....

One year later this social media post populated as a memory and I have to share it. I remember well what it was like to walk by the array of houses I could have chosen to live in on Main St. I never dreamed that I could ever be "hand picked" to take one as my very own. It is humbling to see the growth from one year to the next and heart-swelling, to be reminded of our own thoughts-- exactly one year ago when I aired my insight into the life I was dreaming of. The feelings I had exposed myself to... the home I foresaw myself in. Forced me to make a decision and trust. Not home as in 'house'...but home as in ....place....

As I sit here and look out my window... in a place I didn't know was part of my plan and I oversee my life, I, my friends, am thankful for every single second of this life. Instead of letting the sun set in front of you, because that is the "Sun's" job not yours... find something that means as much to you and do it every day. Thank God, the Sun has never asked for a day off.

January 2016
I took a brisk walk in this rural, glorious, mid west, Ohio, town tonight. I had an errand to run, so I did it by foot and I worked my heart from the inside out. The cold air stung my face. It felt tight on my cheeks. Only in this place- can the most populated portion of the town, emit the warm smell of a wood burning stove, something that usually means they are surrounded by wood as a heat source.. It hugged me and comforted my bones. How simple, this place. There are a few houses that could maybe be ours uptown someday, and I went by one of them. It had beautiful dollhouse features, which livened up the night. Oh so bright colors painted on the house like the face of a china doll. I imagined the joy my heart would feel owning a portion of Main St. and I smiled. I think about the prominence that once walked these streets. 100 years has barely passed in this quant little town. I'm so thankful, that you can barely tell. On my way back home, the open sky too, made me thankful. The stars pierced my soul, like sharp and tiny nails, tacking our dreams up to be imagined and celebrated. God gave us a beautiful gift by placing us out here away from the city and night life. People in the city can only see how far the city limits reach. Out here, we can see beyond the city limits. We have no shelter from the sky. We have a clear and perfect picture. A place where dreams, have to be painted to see a bigger picture. A place where no one can ever forget how special our home really is. No borders or boundaries to carve the way. In the distance a trail of sculpted and scrolled wood lines the horizon of those old buildings that dominate the village. The effort that went into each hole and carving is still appreciated. I will try my best to take each minute that was spent on the detail of those homes and buildings seriously. Those minutes are gone now, but once, long ago, they represented those very dreams, someone else imagined in our open sky, out here. The same sky, that Ulysses gazed into.