There is a little place in Eastern Kentucky called Breathitt County. There is a little road called Morris Fork, where the little brown church on the hill resides. When I am there, I am home. Because life changed in many ways, I had not been there in what seems like a lifetime. Leading up to Bible School, I didn't know if maybe my time as music leader at Morris Fork was over. Something had changed, mostly me, I guess, and my boys have all grown up. Things there have changed so much; yet, maybe they haven't really changed at all. The point? I was more worried about the Habitat trip, and I was feeling quite strange as I traveled on 64 and then the Mountain Parkway. When I hit Booneville, my nerves actually started to awaken. Why the anxiety? Then, I drove through the familiar terrian of 28, and when I drove past the church, I saw the sign. "Welcome Southport. (And Jacqui)." That was Saturday afternoon. By Sunday, Biloxi was a lifetime away. I was home. No, things will not remain the same. Not in Morris Fork or anywhere, but there is simply a part of me that belongs there in the hollers of Eastern Kentucky. I can't really explain it, but I know I was so glad to be home.
(I cannot figure out why this keeps publishing in two different sized fonts. Oh well.)
1 comment:
Haha, I DID know that you had a blog. And I do read it. So...most of the times you've said only 3 or so people see it, you've been wrong. That came out creepier than I meant it.
You didn't leave me hanging, and I appreciate what you said.
I like to believe that I've actually changed a lot since the last time I REALLY talked to you...Maybe it's not extremely evident to people who live outside my head, but I think it's definitely good. :)
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