In my last blog I wrote about the excitement of returning to my little town Clatonia, Nebraska to lead a workshop and preach (see June 1, 2012 blog). Sometimes our remembrances or our expectations of a place can be much higher than what might actually be there. But I’m happy to report that for me going home was better than I could have possibly imagined.

When my family left our farm and our town of Clatonia, mega-farming with its expensive high-tech equipment was appearing on the horizon. My father saw the writing on the wall and knew it would be difficult to remain a small farmer without any sons, and my mother had developed some hefty allergies and asthma. Although I earnestly promised my father that I would stay on the farm and help him forever – after all, I was a terrific cow milker and I had been driving the tractor since I was big enough to reach the clutch – in the end, Daddy was right and when I was thirteen we sold our enchanted farm and moved to Lincoln.

On this visit to Nebraska, I saw what mega farming means. My cousin Ron Miller, his wife Diane, and their son Jeff farm over 2,000 acres. Talk about big machinery! I could barely climb up on one of these machines – let alone try to drive it. But Ron and Diane have somehow managed to mega-farm with grace and with hearts as big as all outdoors. They have an amazing interest in people, animals, their church, and their town, and they seem to get pleasure in helping everyone. I don’t know how many cats and kittens I saw, but they are all lovingly fed – twice a day.

Ron is the fire chief for Clatonia, and he has successfully written proposals to get up-to-date fire equipment for the community. But most of all, Ron and his family love our little church and work hard to keep it in good shape – new siding outside, repaired bathrooms (not too modern), and now even air conditioning. It’s not just Ron and his family who take care of our church. There’s the special pastor Lila Bottoffsen (who preaches at three churches in the area every Sunday) and many others in the community – including my old friend Larry Krauter, who is the town’s historian.

When I arrived in Nebraska, I knew there would be a lot of reminiscing and memories with my family and friends. It felt so familiar – like slipping into an old shoe. I won’t find a better place to see awesome sunsets, to experience the power of the open plains, to discover I am “related” to almost everyone in the community in some way, and to feel welcome at a church “potluck dinner” after a Sunday morning service than I did in my beloved Clatonia.

As the days passed, there was time for laughter and tears, for having coffee and meals with friends and family, for visiting cemeteries in the middle of nowhere where my relatives are buried, for walking on the land my family owned. I felt sheer joy that I had ‘gone home’ again. There was no feeling of disappointment or regret, but rather a deep appreciation of that special place I still call home. How grateful I am to have had the opportunity to return once more.

Thank you, God, for creating special places, people, events that we can experience over and over again because they are so meaningful and wonderful. Thank you for memories, for laughter and tears, for joys too deep to describe. We give you thanks especially for our home in your heart. Help us to return there again and again. Amen.

Joy Carol
www.joycarol.com