Tuesday, September 13, 2011


For me, home is now Middle Georgia. I really like living here now. Almost 13 (gasp!) years ago, I was a sophomore in college, heading to my first Campus Crusade Christmas conference, and I remember first passing the model plane that sits off I-75. My new car buddy and I scoffed at such a random eyesore, not knowing that the Aviation museum was several miles down the road. Little did I know that one day this very exit would be the hub of most of my activities. Irony, irony.

Perspective is everything, and mine's obviously changed. We moved to middle Georgia when Jeremiah was 6 weeks old. Our family life began here. I remember nursing him in a lady's stall at our now-church home. He pottied there, too, a few months ago. Silly, but that's the stuff I remember. Little milestones.

Living in the suburbs of Atlanta was all I could have imagined for myself. Arts and culture in the heart of town, malls and McMansions in the neighborhoods. We were by no means on the 'fast track', but greatly influenced by it. The schools, the churches, community sports-- everything was, and had to be, the best. We were Geo Metros in a leased Lexus world. My doctor's office-- top notch. Oil paintings on the wall, all the pregnant ladies manicured and professional.

Here in Middle Georgia, where our second child was born? Efficient, but over-worked doctors. There were no "let's get to know each other" or "what's your birth plan?" conversations in plush chairs. It was "baby looks good, feelin' okay?, see you next month" visits.

But.... Sarah's baby nurse, who saw us wait and worry over a MRI for a spinal concern and saw us leave without the procedure, gave me her number, asking me to call when we found out if there was a problem. She took an interest. She cared. I called her back twice, finally able to share good news.

It seems that people here have time to show they care. There's a little less distraction, less traffic, less keeping-up. More openness about faith. More manners practiced and kindness. Our pastors and staff know our names. And they genuinely care. We don't just attend church; we belong. It's neat. Alex has a great company and a boss he respects, which I'd say is rare.

Less opportunity for fine culture, perhaps, and more events at an "Ag Center" than I would have ever imagined attending. But I like it. We've become a family here.

There's no place like home.

1 comment:

Jennie said...

LOVE. I couldn't agree more. I absolutely never, in a million years, would have set myself in central Georgia with my family. But here I am, and here I pray we'll stay. Love this place and more than that, I love these people.