The Dream

It begins with a shared dream.  A dream of having our own plot of land in the country.  A plot of land in the place that tugs at our heart strings.  A place where we can sit in rockers on the front porch and eat dinner in the screened back porch. We'll watch the fireflies dancing along a pasture at twilight, become intoxicated by the honeysuckle on the evening air, and join the cricket and katydid symphony.  A place where our own food is grown and our children can run.  I long to have fresh milk waiting for me in the pasture, to see the wool for our sweaters grazing on grass, wake to the sound of the rooster and have people gather around a bonfire. This dream has been given a name.  Whispering Oak Acres.  Nothing sounds quite like the Oaks in Autumn as breeze rustles the remaining leaves or the groan of the giants during the spring when the rain and winds pound with all their might.
For us, that dream is taking work. On our journey we are learning to truly put our trust God and be thankful for the countless blessings we have. We grow what we can wherever we are. We keep animals when we are permitted.  We rest assured in the promises that no matter where we are God is there.