To the Country (and Grandma's House)

While Jenny made a trip to OKC last weekend to visit her college roommate, the kids and I skipped the city and headed to Grandma's house in Desert, TX. Desert, where I grew up, is nothing more than a couple dozen houses spread across the north Texas countryside, along with a Presbyterian church, a few herd of cattle, and a maze of dusty, white-rock roads. In the past couple years, a traffic light, convenience store and welding shop have been added to the landscape. I suppose it won't be long before Desert becomes engulfed in the ever-expanding suburban sprawl of the DFW area.

We had a great time outdoors, soaking in the sunlight, riding trikes, scooters, and four-wheelers, shooting hoops, hitting golf balls, swinging, sliding, and running. The kids saw dozens of different kinds of bugs--it was fun to see them marvel at the little things underfoot that rarely exist in the concrete jungle.

Being in Desert reminded me of the things I miss about the country. Open spaces, natural variety, simplicity, and life at a manageable pace. In the city, our lives are often overrun by a myriad of things that are small and insignificant compared to the more important things of life. But we're moving at such a frantic pace that we seldom take the time to realize it. More often than not I find myself engaging in things, trivial things, as if to keep my mind from fixating on the reality that this life, and the way I live it, are not what they are supposed to be or intended to be; a sort of holy discontent that forces me back into the fight to hold on to the things that matter and that leaves me feeling unfulfilled when I don't hold them close. Do you know what I mean? Probably not. My short stint in the country reminded me that few things are really worth the trouble; I have renewed my striving to focus more of my time and energy on those more important things.