Image via AS Phillips
Personal perspective
This edition of By the Way is a personal one and parts of it fall into two categories on the site, ShoutOuts and a new one, VillageVibe.
I’ve got a fresh cuppa java and I’m writing this at my desk, on the first day of 2024. First event of the morning was well before dawn. I got Touching Fire’s alfalfa cubes soaking, so her breakfast would be ready by 0800. She’s over 40 and has a specialized diet and feeding schedule to keep her lookin’ like a 20-year-old. She’s worth it, too!
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| Touching Fire |
Image via AS Phillips
During the meal prep, for her and our newly adopted barn-cat, Rocky (whose nickname is Sher Kahn, cause he growls, bites and scratches like a tiger) I was also in prayer, being reminded by nearly everything around me to be thankful to the Lord for another day with all of our little farm animals, safe and healthy. A little later, I was thankful for the pretty snow that was only looking good, and not piling up anywhere.
That’s not a brag, just sharing how the day started. I pray your day started in similar fashion, beautifully blessed.
In 2023, I’m thankful to have not had a single overnight stay in a hospital and as of the end of November, I’m still officially cancer-free. There are loads more blessings I could write here, but it’d take days to list them all, so, I’m gonna focus on sharing what’s on my heart.
Blessed!
In my younger years, I loved visiting our little village. Its name is Stewartsville.
My family’s farm was about two miles north of here, and Stewartsville was where we often shopped. Granny Moore’s little store was on the north end of the village. Mrs. Patton’s on the southside.
This village is about one mile in circumference and when I moved home from Texas, there were nearly as many horses as there were people.
When I was a kid, my sister and our friend Dennis and I, used to ride our horses into this village. We could tie them up at Granny’s, go inside for some soda and chips, then we’d be on our way. Mostly we shopped at Granny’s but sometimes we rode a bit further, through the village (yup, right down the street), to Mrs. Patton’s, but mostly we shopped at Granny’s when we were on our horses.
Yup! To this day, it hasn’t ever been better than that!
We, like much of my mama’s family, were all Punkin Runners, meaning we lived in Pumpkin Run, a tiny area made up of gardens, fields, a few chickens, cattle and horses. It was, and is still, tiny, but for us, it was the center of the universe.
Punkin Run folks were very interactive. We camped, had cookouts, fished, took long rides on our horses, helped each other during crisis, like getting livestock out of the weather, and vehicles out of ditches.
The Punkin Run kids, had a sitter in nearly every direction.
Our parents hunted and dressed meat to share with needy families. We shared what we grew in our gardens, too.
Punkin Run wasn’t without its troubles, but it was a sincerely idyllic place to grow up. I still love it and still ride through the area often.
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| The heart of Punkin Run, currently |
Image via Google Maps
Village people
I’m happy to report, that (at least here in Stewartsville) most of our village folks are just as caring and interactive. We spend time together, even on holidays. We break bread together. We pray for each other. We guard each other, watching over our own properties as well as those of our neighbors.
During my year of cancer treatment, I got checked on daily. Because I was on social restriction to prevent even something as simple as catching a cold, our neighbors checked on me via my sister and brother-in-law, or stopped by for a visit, from a safe distance on our front steps.
Folks dropped off food that I could keep down, and money for fuel to help with the expense of the Monday through Friday commute to Gateway Hospital in Newburgh, Indiana, where I got chemo and radiation.
It put hundreds of miles on my sister’s car and required hundreds of dollars (in truth, prolly thousands) to fuel her van’s tank.
Like Punkin Run, Stewartsville isn’t without its challenges. There are no perfect people. But, the good aspects dwarf the less-than-best ones.
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| My friend, Nate, grazing Fire in our front yard Image via AS Phillips |
Gratitude
I’m very thankful to be here and thankful for the wonderful exchanges and adventures I’ve had living here.
The cool thing about living in a village is that the lifestyle we enjoy isn’t limited to hamlets or villages. Cities and towns have villages too, at least in a sense. They’re called neighborhoods. 😉
My close friend and colleague, Vicki Warner of WarnerWords, grew up much like I did, in a rural farming area, but in South Africa. She’s lived and worked around the globe, being originally from England, and has the same appreciation that I have for village life and we share many similar experiences.
Her site is new, so please pardon the small amount of content there. We’re working on getting it fattened up as quick as we can. Meanwhile, I’m sure she’d appreciate a visit from you!
She’s also been a huge blessing to me, even all the way from Western Canada. She checked on me almost daily, was consistently encouraging, even post-treatment, during this past year of recovery.
We’re from two different countries, but in many ways, we share the same roots.
1 He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.”
Psalm 91:1
(World Messianic Bible)
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| Youth night in our village--learning to give thanks and pray for others |
Image via AS Phillips
The wrap
It’s my sincere hope that wherever you live be it in a city, town or a rural village like mine, you’re blessed with being part of a community you love and one that loves you back!
I’ve lived and traveled to a lot of places, but of all the places I could be, I’m thankful God has me here, at least for now.
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| Enjoy the beauty of the road less traveled |
Image via AS Phillips
Happy New Year to you and yours and ‘til next time,
Shalom, shalom!
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