Pantaloons and Kudzu

Ever since we got home from Hatteras Island, I'm conflicted, is what I am.

It happens whenever we go south. 

We hit the Mason Dixon Line, and then the Stuckey's pop up, and before you know it my accent is thick and drawling and I'm practically pulling on my pantaloons in anticipation of being home again. When I am finally home I actually breathe better. I sleep better. I feel better. It's just a better existence for me down south.

And so I'm conflicted on account of I'm not there now. I'm back in Connecticut where I have a total of zero family outside of my own personal husband and two sons and cat and hamster and two African dwarf frogs. Yes, I count my blessings that my family belongs to an amazing church and I teach at an amazing Christian school. We are supported and loved by God's people wherever we go, even here in Connecticut, but we do choose carefully. Still, Curt and I feel a tugging, a pull to head south. I'm like a goose feeling the winter approaching. I'm ready to take wing.

I simply miss home. And I've tried to get back there without leaving.

I have been reading southern writers all summer long. Even the Ron Clark book on teaching is decidedly southern with his awesome North Carolinian voice booming off the pages. Anne Rivers Siddons has been my author of choice, having exhausted Pat Conroy and Dorothea Benton Frank and Lee Smith. Southern Living is on my living room table. But it's just not enough.

I miss those hugging mountains and friendly people and cheap-o gas and neighborhood streets where people I know still live and call me by name. I miss Chick Fil A nuggets (oh yes, I just went there) and my momma and the crazy kudzu covered shacks on the side of the four-lane. 
I miss voices like mine. 
I miss wanting to talk to people in the check-out line. 
I miss home.

a kudzu covered shack on the side of the four lane

Curt and I decided way back in the spring that we were over-burdened with our mortgage, paying far more than the Dave Ramsey recommended percentage of our whole budget. We put the house up for sale ready to downsize. I don't know if you know, but Connecticut is pricey. That's why we drive to Mass. for gas. It's worth it. So the house went on the market and we kept it spic and span which is not easy with two boys and a cat and hamster and two African dwarf frogs. But we did it. 

And tonight we signed a contract with a buyer who wants to live in our house. They even want the redneck pool! We haven't come close to the price we paid, but we are thanking God that we'll be able to pay off the mortgage and pocket a little extra in savings. All this seems like a blessing and a sign.

We have no idea where God is leading us next. We have a list of rental houses to look at this weekend. Curt has his job. I have school starting in a couple of weeks. We're prepared to stick out the fall, the winter, the spring here in New England. 

But it is our Sun Stand Still prayer that we can go home after all is said and done. We are ready to go home. We are praying it. We are walking in faith -
     Goodbye beautiful house! 
     Goodbye big rooms and huge back yard! 
     Goodbye home ownership!

We're willing to turn our backs on you to get where God is taking us.

Home. We pray it's home.