At the age of five, my family decided to move from the Sunny State of CA to the middle of nowhere Dawson, Nebraska. My father dreamed of living in a small town. He pictured a story-like town with faces everyone knew and a strong community. So, he packed up the family, and we settled into a population of a whopping 168! We moved into a two-story fixer-upper and my Mom quickly began her magical touch of making the house become a home.
There were many differences between our life in CA and our new lives in NE. First and foremost, the people. In CA, our neighbors were cordial. Waving, "hello" as we passed by and asking the respectful, but not intrusive, "How are you?" In NE, our neighbors invited themselves to our home. I will never forget the day my mother opened the door to a man named, Bill Stivicks. Dressed in overalls and work boots, Bill walked right into our living room, introduced himself, and plunked himself down on our sofa. My mother, alarmed and confused all at the same time, handled the situation well, politely offering him a beverage. He later became my Father's dearest friend and a helpful resource for our transition.
Another difference was our house. The newness of the space we soon called home became an adventurous inspiration for imagination. Our home had a basement, a new feature from CA homes, which my sister and I pretended was a dungeon of terror, holding complete darkness and vicious spiders. Our backyard faced a pasture full of cows who stared us down with expressions of boredom every time we poked our noses to the fence and peered through. The giant oak trees outlining our home housed a wooden swing where I sat and pondered the complexities of my little, five-year-old mind.
Our time in NE was never easy. My parents argued often, my Dad's works schedule strained our family, and we desperately missed our loved ones back home. We lived in Dawson for one year. My father's dreams met reality as he learned community can be found anywhere, not just in the small towns of the country. I hold many fond memories in our little home because of the freedom it brought to experience adventure. Looking back, I see the Lord using others to support our family, and I am grateful for all we learned during the season in NE. My family trusted God's provision in leaving CA. In turn, my father listened to the needs of his family and trusted God's plan by returning to CA. To this day, I think the decision proved very difficult for my father, but I firmly believe the Lord used my father's dreams and desires to mold them into His plans and purpose.I write this with the hope of encouraging you in your dreams. Whatever your heart desires may you seek the Lord with your plans.
What I know of God is solely based on what He chooses to reveal to me. As I live and reflect on my experiences, I know this to be true, "In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps" (Proverbs 16:9). May you run toward the Lord in all you do, throwing aside destractions and hindrances and focussing on the One who sacrificed His life for your salvation.
All my love,
Gennavieve
There were many differences between our life in CA and our new lives in NE. First and foremost, the people. In CA, our neighbors were cordial. Waving, "hello" as we passed by and asking the respectful, but not intrusive, "How are you?" In NE, our neighbors invited themselves to our home. I will never forget the day my mother opened the door to a man named, Bill Stivicks. Dressed in overalls and work boots, Bill walked right into our living room, introduced himself, and plunked himself down on our sofa. My mother, alarmed and confused all at the same time, handled the situation well, politely offering him a beverage. He later became my Father's dearest friend and a helpful resource for our transition.
Another difference was our house. The newness of the space we soon called home became an adventurous inspiration for imagination. Our home had a basement, a new feature from CA homes, which my sister and I pretended was a dungeon of terror, holding complete darkness and vicious spiders. Our backyard faced a pasture full of cows who stared us down with expressions of boredom every time we poked our noses to the fence and peered through. The giant oak trees outlining our home housed a wooden swing where I sat and pondered the complexities of my little, five-year-old mind.
Our time in NE was never easy. My parents argued often, my Dad's works schedule strained our family, and we desperately missed our loved ones back home. We lived in Dawson for one year. My father's dreams met reality as he learned community can be found anywhere, not just in the small towns of the country. I hold many fond memories in our little home because of the freedom it brought to experience adventure. Looking back, I see the Lord using others to support our family, and I am grateful for all we learned during the season in NE. My family trusted God's provision in leaving CA. In turn, my father listened to the needs of his family and trusted God's plan by returning to CA. To this day, I think the decision proved very difficult for my father, but I firmly believe the Lord used my father's dreams and desires to mold them into His plans and purpose.I write this with the hope of encouraging you in your dreams. Whatever your heart desires may you seek the Lord with your plans.
What I know of God is solely based on what He chooses to reveal to me. As I live and reflect on my experiences, I know this to be true, "In their hearts humans plan their course, but the LORD establishes their steps" (Proverbs 16:9). May you run toward the Lord in all you do, throwing aside destractions and hindrances and focussing on the One who sacrificed His life for your salvation.
All my love,
Gennavieve
Beautiful, well composed reflections, Genn.
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