Disclaimer: I am not a country girl. I’m hardly even a small-town girl. I grew up in a “smaller” town that was a wannabe city. My grandpa was a farmer. And my teenage-self stuck my nose up at the small town, country life because it was too old school. Oh, if only I would have understood how wonderful the country life could be at that age.
A part of my heart belongs here in the po dunk town of Central City. And even though I didn’t grow up here, I fell in love with a man who did. I fell in love with a family who did. The slower pace of life. The empty gravel roads. The casual wave from the truck passing you by, even if they don’t know you. The fluffy, bright green rows of corn that surround your car and make you dizzy if you watch for too long. The overly expensive, quiet grocery store that plays country music as you shop. The sun rising up over the river. The fact that you can ACTUALLY see the sun setting into the ground, without all the ugly celebrity homes in the way. I could go on, but you get the point.
The grass is literally greener in this part of the state. Well, at least there is much more of it and I have a hard time avoiding that mentality. Being in Omaha makes my heart ache for the small-town life. I long for a slow pace of life where you always see someone you know and where it only takes 5 minutes to get across town. I get breathless when we drive through the fields and I see pivots in the distance spraying mist over the corn, the sun turning it to gold. I want to jump out of my skin when the sun creates a haze over the distant trees. It’s all so familiar and I miss it so much. I think that’s the key; familiarity, comfort. I want to feel that comfort again. I grow weary of living in a faceless city where you can disappear if you want to.
But here is where I’m convicted. God doesn’t guarantee a comfortable life. In fact, it’s quite the opposite if you choose to follow Jesus. He says it’s going to be hard. And it has been. And maybe the fact that I live in that faceless town allows me to so richly indulge in the wonderful beauty of the country…and even long for it. Maybe it’s the dream that I like. God has called us to be somewhere we aren’t comfortable at this time in our life I’m trying to remind myself that following Him means letting go of my dreams and asking “what do you want?” Or rather, saying “I’ll do anything, Lord. I’ll go where you lead me.”
So for now, in this messy time of the unknown and unfamiliar, I will take a deep breath and sigh in content of the peace and quiet. Omaha makes the grass (or corn) greener, and it allows me to bask in the charms and comforts of the country. So thanks, Omaha.
Signed,
A city, but closeted country girl.
A part of my heart belongs here in the po dunk town of Central City. And even though I didn’t grow up here, I fell in love with a man who did. I fell in love with a family who did. The slower pace of life. The empty gravel roads. The casual wave from the truck passing you by, even if they don’t know you. The fluffy, bright green rows of corn that surround your car and make you dizzy if you watch for too long. The overly expensive, quiet grocery store that plays country music as you shop. The sun rising up over the river. The fact that you can ACTUALLY see the sun setting into the ground, without all the ugly celebrity homes in the way. I could go on, but you get the point.
The grass is literally greener in this part of the state. Well, at least there is much more of it and I have a hard time avoiding that mentality. Being in Omaha makes my heart ache for the small-town life. I long for a slow pace of life where you always see someone you know and where it only takes 5 minutes to get across town. I get breathless when we drive through the fields and I see pivots in the distance spraying mist over the corn, the sun turning it to gold. I want to jump out of my skin when the sun creates a haze over the distant trees. It’s all so familiar and I miss it so much. I think that’s the key; familiarity, comfort. I want to feel that comfort again. I grow weary of living in a faceless city where you can disappear if you want to.
But here is where I’m convicted. God doesn’t guarantee a comfortable life. In fact, it’s quite the opposite if you choose to follow Jesus. He says it’s going to be hard. And it has been. And maybe the fact that I live in that faceless town allows me to so richly indulge in the wonderful beauty of the country…and even long for it. Maybe it’s the dream that I like. God has called us to be somewhere we aren’t comfortable at this time in our life I’m trying to remind myself that following Him means letting go of my dreams and asking “what do you want?” Or rather, saying “I’ll do anything, Lord. I’ll go where you lead me.”
So for now, in this messy time of the unknown and unfamiliar, I will take a deep breath and sigh in content of the peace and quiet. Omaha makes the grass (or corn) greener, and it allows me to bask in the charms and comforts of the country. So thanks, Omaha.
Signed,
A city, but closeted country girl.
1 comments:
Such a beautiful, poetic, CONVINCING writer...you could persuade some New Yorkers to move ;)
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