Headed Home

I am a small town/country girl at heart.  I'm not afraid to admit it.  I grew up on a hobby farm about fifteen minutes (12, when you pushed it!) out of a small town.  I helped bale hay.  I bottle-fed calves and, when they grew up, watched them be butchered.  I watched my outside cat, Michaela, give birth to her 300th litter of kittens on my lap.  I played house with my sisters for endless hours on the hay wagon.  I helped mow a large lawn at an age that my son is quickly approaching.  I sweated myself to sleep, cuddled up to a fan, in the summer and layered myself with blankets in the winter.  My three sisters were my best friends/worst enemies/playmates.  I climbed trees, planted gardens, and drank well water that I now turn my nose up at.  The good...the not-so-good...everything about it is who I am.  The reason I bring this up is that as I was leaving the cities, with the sun in my eyes and open green fields of corn and soybeans to my left and right, my heart and body and soul new I was headed home.  My home now may not be a western Wisconsin hobby farm, but all I have to do is look out the window by my dining room table, and I know I'm exactly where I should be.  You never know where God may take you.  Maybe we'll end up in the city someday...maybe I'll live into my 80's looking out the same window...but I'll always be happiest in a place I can plant my garden and watch my children run around outside to the backdrop of bright cornfields.  I'm so happy to be home.