Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Day 46 - September 29, 2009


I have had this post written for weeks, just waiting for the perfect picture to accompany it. As I read through it again today, I realized that the perfect photographs have been sitting on my desktop since August. I am reminded of these photos today as I anxiously await my grandmother’s recent test results. I sit here on the couch with my stomach in knots not knowing what the next phone call from home will mean. I choke back tears as I cry out to a God who can “…do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20).

The pictures below are of my grandmother on her wedding day. She is a strong, beautiful, loving, and nurturing woman. It is the time I spent with her on my grandparent’s farm, when I was young, that inspired this post and my dreams for the future. I love you, Grandma!

(original post)

“You’re just living the dream, aren’t you?” Ever since we moved to L.A. last December, we’ve heard this phrase countless times. And if you had asked me a few years ago, I would have said, “Yes, I’m living the dream and lovin’ it!” Now, don’t get me wrong, I love living down here. You can’t beat the endless summer days, the 8 minute walk to the beach, exploring city sites you only thought you’d ever see on TV, enjoying fabulous foods at some of the best restaurants in California, $2 wine at the grocery store, palm-tree-lined streets, breath-taking mountain views outside your window, and a store that sells the most delicious fruit and vegetables you’ll ever taste all for only 99 cents! It’s absurd, really! Many would say life couldn’t get much better than that. But ever since my “mommy gene” kicked into high gear last month, I’ve been spending my days dreaming of far more than L.A. can offer.

I began dreaming up my perfect grown-up life back in 1996 when I was a mere 12 years old. We were driving down my grandparent’s long gravel driveway for the last time. They had decided to sell their farm and move closer to their children and grandchildren. Whitney Houston’s “I will always love you” was playing through the car and I choked back tears as my sister and I attempted to sing the high notes along with Whitney. As we turned from the driveway onto the main road, I made a promise to myself that one day, I would buy that house back and open a Bed & Breakfast with my wonderful husband and beautiful children.

Now, it wouldn’t be any ordinary B&B. Our guests wouldn’t be the usual out-of-towners looking for a quiet country getaway. No, our guests would be family and friends. We would have enough bedrooms in the house and chairs around the table to accommodate everyone we love. We would have gardens full of the Earth’s most delicious vegetables and fruits and orchards filled with apple, cherry, and peach trees. I, along with my mother and sister, would spend the morning in the kitchen baking fresh berry pies and the afternoon preparing a feast that would make every evening meal feel like Thanksgiving. My husband, along with other handy guests, would spend the day in the workshop making rocking chairs for us to relax in on the porch and watch the sunset after dinner. The kids would run laughing through the fields with their cousins playing hide-and-seek and snacking on fruit fresh straight from the branch. And when evening fell, we would scoop our children up on handmade blankets and stare up at the sky in searching of shooting stars.

Which would you choose? Red carpets and flashing cameras or peaceful porches and rocking chairs that sway? The sound of car horns and crashing waves or children’s laughter and crickets chirping in the night air? The star-studded life in L.A. or the family filled life on the farm?

For me, the choice is easy.



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