Who Knew?

I am, by nature, a farm girl. I prefer the language of trees, of wind in the branches, the smell of earth awakening after winter and open sky. Thankfully, I grew up on an 80-acre farm where that love was stamped into my heart and soul. The 100+ year-old house was situated on a hill that overlooked a pasture and hayfield to the west, a sprawling garden with a few fruit trees dotted around it to the east – and to the south there was an open field that wandered into the woods. The woods was a visual evolution of seasons. It would be easy to miss if one wasn’t alert. Those trees taught me a lot.

I am so thankful I grew up there where the land sang along with the crickets, tree frogs and the trees.

Fast forward…. those days live as beautiful history.

Haven is a glorious 5+ acre parcel perched on a bluff overlooking the Brazos River – “Arms of God” is what the original Spanish name means. When you stand on that bluff – 1,000 feet up, you understand how it got its name. It’s historic, beautiful and untamed.  It’s also 100 miles from where I’m currently sitting – currently in Midtown Dallas.

Midtown. University Park. Dallas. Across from Northpark Mall.  For those who know me, you understand exactly the wry humor contained in those descriptions. And yet…

The apartment I’m sitting in is across the street from work, near the Sunoco building on Park Lane. In 2017, I “fled” this area, after recovering from surgery, dealing with my mom’s death and the feeling that the “city” was going to suck the life out of me. “Life is too short,” I said.

God leads.  Always. And often, in unexpected ways. If someone would have made a wager of a place I would never end up, Minneapolis would have been #1 and Park Lane would have been neck-and-neck with it. Park Lane. Are you kidding me? I would have bet the proverbial farm that I would never return here. Nope, not me. How wrong I was.

In April, the commute was getting to me. A friend and confidante suggested I should take care of “me” and lose the stress the drive was causing. Move closer. He did the math. Laid out a convincing case. It was a compelling and logical suggestion – and didn’t sound completely crazy. Or was it?

Long story short – that’s just what happened – and fast. Here’s the beauty of the whole thing.

I’m on the 11th floor. I call it “my perch”. Sure, it’s not “Haven” (the property) – it is a gift. As I sit here utterly peaceful today, I’m so grateful for the counsel I received – and strangely – listened to. Yes, I can sometimes be stubborn. 🙂 I didn’t want to spend the money.

Friends are so important. Sometimes they can be the very mouthpiece of God. That’s what Brad was that day. He opened a window and let the sunshine in – options, hope, a new cadence in life. Here I am in the very place I vowed to never return to. And guess what? It was meant to be, and I love it. Gratitude feels too small a word for what this means in my life.

Thankful. Peaceful. Assured. Surrounded by a different kind of beauty.

Thank you, God. Thank you, Brad.

Who knew? Guess someone did.

– RG