The best part of our trip, by far, has been all the time that we were able to spend with my family. It means so much to me that we were able to go with my parents, and that our relatives made the effort to come together and catch up with us, and fill us in on the happenings in their lives. They played with my children, entertained us, gave us professional massages, sang and rocked my baby to sleep, and celebrated my 33rd birthday. They hosted large amounts of people, and provided delicious meals at their houses. They took time out of their busy lives to be with us while we were there. Thank you all for making our vacation so special.
I did not expect the house and the land to be so big, and open, and beautiful. I didn't expect to be able to let my children play outside without feeling the need to keep a constant eye on them, like I do at home. I didn't expect to feel so welcome by this family. And I didn’t necessarily think I would leave there, having made new friends, and hoping that we would someday return and see them again.
The most special experience for me this past week and a half, wa
s something that I have no pictures of. I didn't even take my camera, on purpose. You may or may not know this about me, but I LOVE singing old hymns. Love, as in, not a day goes by, that there is not a hymn sung in my house. I have an old hymnal of my grandmothers that sits on my piano, and the kids frequently will grab it, and play "sing that hymn". Anyway, somehow it came out in conversation between Bryan and Steve (the father, and owner of the farm) that I sing in church, and he invited us to come to their house to sing with them. We made plans for after breakfast the next morning. Bryan and I walked over to their house at 7am, carrying our coffees and the hymnal that had been sitting on the table in our guesthouse. The family was still sitting down at the breakfast table, while Martha was busy finishing up the children's lunches for school. Soon after we arrived, their cousin, and a friend that teaches music also joined us, and we all sat down at the table. Steve pulled out a basket full of hymnals and a pitch pipe. And let me tell you, those Amish can sing! They busted out four part harmony, and it was beautiful. Beautiful, like closing your eyes and smiling in the middle of the song, because it's so beautiful. And I realized that we worship the same God. And it is something I will never forget.
"Take my voice and let me sing, always only for my King."