the town that built me

I am sitting in a restaurant, where I am not exactly sure, somewhere in Indiana between Louisville and Kalamazoo. It has been a whirlwind weekend to say the very least.

This trip held many things, much needed visit with a bestie, a long over due stop to see my sister’s home and a trip to a town that has a tight hold on a piece of my heart, Inez, Ky.

Today was a “Homecoming” celebration at the town where I lived and served for a little better than 5 years. More than that, a beloved “Brother” in Christ was to be preaching this service.

As he spoke today about the homecoming of the prodigal son my heart was full. In some ways I myself was home. It was bittersweet to be at this service. I found myself so overwhelmed by how much everything has changed in the last 7 years or so since I packed my little car and drove the long road back north knowing that any time I returned it would never be quite as it was. Everything has changed and yet so much is the same.

There are roads in places that there never were before. A new courthouse has popped up in the middle of town, which means Inez now boasts a grand total of 3. The ShopRite that I got my groceries at is now an IGA. The High School where I prayed at lunch tables and directed the choir now sits empty.

And yet, my sweet Mary still gives the best hugs in the world and takes EVERYONE’S picture. Sonny still leads the charge in the “amen corner” on the front pew. Old man still call me “Sissy” and Brother Paul still says, “One more point and we’re going to the house.”

Everything’s the same, but everything’s different.

The thing that drew me to Eastern KY was the chance to hear Brother Paul. You see, in the wisdom of the human mind the doctors have told him that there is nothing more that can be done about his cancer. They have set a time limit on his life.

We live miles and miles apart and he doesn’t even preach in that same pulpit anymore, but this weekend I couldn’t bring myself to miss the chance to hear him there, maybe for the last time. He spoke of a prodigal who had a mighty homecoming and it was bittersweet.

Life is busy and the miles are long. As I sit here in a town that I don’t even know the name of, I find myself dabbing tears from my eyes as I think that I may have heard this sweet man of God preach for a final time.

He spoke of going home and being welcomed into the open arms of a father who doesn’t care what we’ve done because we are his children.

As we drove out of town today, I had an odd song in my head.

 
“I know they say you cant go home again. I just had to come back one last time. Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam. But these handprints on the front steps are mine. And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar. And I bet you didn't know under that live oak my favorite dog is buried in the yard.  

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it this brokenness inside me might start healing. Out here its like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself if I could just come in I swear I'll leave. Won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me.”

This home wasn’t the home where I “grew up” in a traditional way. But it has shaped the woman I have become in more ways than I can explain. No there aren’t handprints on the front steps but I left my mark. I chuckle today as I glanced at one of the windows in the church and saw its still slightly shattered from a little incident with a falling cross during a Easter Musical rehearsal.

As I had a moment with this little preacher who I adored so much during my time in KY he said to me, “Only heaven will ever reveal all the work you did in this town Linda, you’re a good girl.” 

I grew into a strong woman of God during my season of service in Eastern KY. I’m taking those memories with me to cherish in my heart. I will always carry piece of Inez in my heart. Kalamazoo is my hometown but Inez is the town that built me.