Going Home

Bradley had football this afternoon, and my mom invited us over for the afternoon. She said I could nap and she would watch Ella Kate. We don't turn down offers like that.

I enjoy driving. It's about the only "down time" that I get. And I really enjoy driving home. It makes me feel good. It takes me back. It helps me remember so many good things about growing up. And it makes me thankful for where God's brought me to. My brother and I were texting last week about some things we remember from when we were at home together. I remember watching Reading Rainbow at my grandmother's after school, eating Better Cheddars, and drinking Pepsi. Jim remembers going to Opp on a Sunday afternoon to get the latest Billy Ray Cyrus single, Achy Breaky Heart. We both remember cruising in the green Sunfire to Kinston each morning, listening to Booty Mix 2. Memories. The smells of Sun Ripened Rasberry and cheerleader paints take me back to cheer practice. Gangster's Paradise and The Train send me straight back to a 10th grade pep ralley. And oh, the fall. There was nothing like a Thursday volleyball practice while the band practiced outside. I love going back.

There's nothing like home. There's nothing like sitting in the floor of my parents' living room where I've sat for years. But this time, I get to watch my baby girl play. Thank you, God, for where we've been. Thank you, God, for where we are. And thank you, God, for what you have in store for our future.