While it seems very dreamy and romantic from my stance as an outsider, I am not from the country. I’m a child born of the ‘burbs, where everything is glossy and fabulous. My husband, however, grew up living way out in the sticks, nine miles down a dirt road, semi off-the-grid.
As I am learning, life is just different there.
For months now, I’ve longed to escape into those woods, far away from traffic and busyness and the rat race of city life. Yet I’m learning that it is an altogether different scene there that stretches past the initial country charm and into real life. One of the most notable of these is found in the little blue church where Honey Dude met an encouraging group of old-timers he now calls family.
Naturally, we attend church there when we visit. And it is just sweet as can be. Pastor Jim invites the congregation (of about 12) to share praises and prayer requests before ministering in a passionate sweep of Truth so straight and on-the-mark that you can’t miss it if you tried. Nothing but good stuff. Straight from the Word of God. No frills or high-tech skills. Just the Gospel, plain and simple.
Let me tell you, the plain and simple part really adds to the charm of country life.
Then again, I hear there is another side to small towns out there, threatening to debunk this cute/cozy thing. I guess time will tell. For now, I’ll happily relive this afternoon’s visit with Pete’s parents: sitting out in Adirondack chairs on the sunny front porch, glass of Pinot Gris in hand. Classic, right?