Miranda Bledsoe

🏡 county road 34. a visual memory—
A few years ago my parents sold our childhood home. This house and land, taught me at a young age to explore and to find beauty in nature. Picking flowers from lilac bushes, eating fresh peaches and cherries from our trees, wandering our back woods for hours. Playing with puppies in soft grass, falling off the trampoline with my siblings, staying outside until the sun set. Making sun tea, ringing the dinner bell. Raking leaves and jumping in massive leaf piles.

I could list many more memories and will cherish that my dad built part of this house & the back porch which was a haven for me. The memories with my family, and friends on that land will always be etched in my heart.

As I’ve grieved this transition, and welcomed many others as an adult, I can’t help but be grateful for the consistency of God’s presence to be with me when everything else is changing. This ache in my heart, for permanence, or a hault to change, is uncomfortable. I yearn for time to hold still. God has been reminding me that he is consistent, this world is temporary and will fade away—and this is not my forever home. These little glimpses, of home, and of beauty—are gifts. Places where I experience Gods goodness to us on this earth.