Comfort

My hope in writing these blogs is to keep the content somewhat thematic - to steer away from rambling about life in my little nutshell. Themes seem like a good method to keep this space conversational - where you can gain a little insight into our family life while also gaining an opportunity to think with me about a certain issue.

Today I would like you to consider the theme of comfort. Comfort has come to my attention in the last few weeks - comfort gained by being back in a land familiar to me, comfort in the food and culture of the Midwest and South, discomfort from being temporarily without a home, and comfort arising from family.

The sky outside is a blue-gray and off in the distance thunder rumbles and growls. It is not a hostile storm when a cold and hot front collide and fierce winds tear through the woods. This storm carries with it a heavy silence and a comforting breeze. But even if it were a fierce storm, I would welcome it. Growing up in Indiana, I've long come to accept these days in late June and early July as a gift. They are a respite from the sun. It has a way of putting you at ease, even to sleep.

As I drove up a long stretch of country road from Owensboro, Kentucky to Greencastle, Indiana earlier this week, I discovered a similar dozing effect. It was late evening but since it was the height of summer the sun was long in descending. Mile after mile of farmland rolled behind me and every twenty minutes or so I'd roll by some sleepy roadside town that hasn't seen much action since the height of railroads. Maybe a young boy would be out mowing a lawn or somebody would be pumping gas to move their car along, but largely the road was a testament to solitude and simplicity. Amish restaurants, crafts and farms were not uncommon. Those who lived along this road were living in a place were not much has changed, where not much is going to change. Comfort was a matter of stability, although it ran the risk of descending into depression - the pit of despair.

Likewise there were many advertisements for comfort food along the way be it a Cracker Barrell billboard or the local trucker's stop. The square meals promised a full stomach - a safeguard against hunger which every farmer subconsciously feels. Never mind the fact obesity runs through these parts much more frequently now than starvation does. I guess the echoes of depression linger unawares. There is a fine balance between finding comfort and being weighed down - from being refreshed and being restricted. But where the Midwest and Southern cultures run the risk of settling in too much, the life on the West coast always ran the risk of never providing any sanctuary or place to slow down.

It's not just about places. One of the biggest factors of comfort for Anna and I these last few weeks has been family. Comfort comes in arms willing to hold Wyatt, ears to listen to our tales and voices to speak assurance into our journeys. Our families have been this and much more in the last few weeks. Besides, it is deeply satisfying - even comforting - to see great-grandparents hold Wyatt. It symbolizes fulfillment and continuation. Yet again to be comforted by family, to be nourished in the nest is itself a danger if taken to extremes. For all the comfort we are deriving from being with and loved by family, we are also mindful that this is not our last stop.

We are being refreshed to move on again to our next home. In one week, we will load up some trucks and drive back down that stretch of country road I just described. We are moving to the land of southern comfort so we might be embraced. Already we've received promises that others will be there to assist in our unloading. That's very comforting.

Wes