Our other, other home.

I find myself completely uninspired this week in regards to journaling or anything else really. My brain has been singed by the overworking of designing boring things like business cards and logos, vain attempts to understand the Metaphysical realm in Philosophy class, and trying to keep the sink from overflowing with dirty dishes. All scenarios resulting in a withered mind lacking inspiration to exert anything other than what is absolutely required. Someone had a brilliant moment in placing the Northland Day of Rest at this precise point in the semester—it’s extremely needed. My man and I are celebrating by spending a long weekend with good friends from church, with some time to relax and do a bit horseback riding (and of course, I forgot my camera). 

And it was as I am sitting here, in the home that feels like the home away from home—our “adopted family” of sorts, that inspiration has begun to set in again. Andrew is out riding shotgun in the magnificent harvester with Mr. Brock. Mrs. Brock is taking an evening stroll. And I am left in the quiet home to complete the last bits of homework that I was unable to accomplish beforehand. Even though I wasn’t too thrilled at first, even now I am becoming more thankful for a few minutes of silence in this wonderful home, enough to hear my own thoughts without the busyness and chaos of everyday life as a married student. Don’t get me wrong, I love the life that God has blessed me with—but there are times where “getting away from it all” is absolutely necessary to regenerate the mind and the heart. And this is the perfect place to do it. 

I love this farm and the people that live here. They have always exuded hospitality, immediately making you feel as though you are right at home and you belong—no one is ever out of place. They strive to show that everything that they own is Gods, not theirs, and therefore, it should be used to help others in any way that they can. They are a ton of fun—the memories of past weekends with our little team: “sledding” that involved a long rope, a thick piece of waxed plastic, and a truck; late night belly laughing conversations, four-wheeling in the dark, and we’ll leave it at that. There is a fun, genuine spirit and home-cooked meals. A home that exudes family, peace, and memories—a sort of haven that as soon as you walk in, you feel all burdens lifted. Not to mention, they have especially comfy couches. They are always spiritually encouraging with refreshing conversations. I love the peace and quiet of a country home, and as weird as it might sound, I even enjoy the smell of the manure and the sounds of cows in the background. All of this represents a hard working family that loves the Lord and strives to show others the same love that He has shown them. 

I’m thankful for time to spend with them and for all of their extended generosity. Andrew and I have often said that we hope we only become more like them in regards to generosity and outlook on life, being a family to people in situations that we are in now.