Thursday, July 28, 2011

Small Town Pride

I'm a small-town girl.  Farm raised, corn fed, mulberry stained feet, wave to everyone girl.

I tried for years to be a city girl.  I lived in the suburbs, did the "baseball" mom thing (my kids didn't like soccer), dressed the part, but it never quite fit like mulberry stains. 

My city friends (those not transplanted from rural Iowa) could never understand why I rolled the windows down when we would happen to pass a freshly cut alfalfa field....to me that was better than smelling some crazy coffee concoction.  :) 

Claustrophobic is a word I often used to describe my suburban life.....neighbors maybe....MAYBE... 10 feet away from me.  I loved them, but still longed for space.  Growing up with a 240 acre playground, even a acre lot is confining.

So, after 14 years of marriage and different cities, my family moved back "home", to NW Iowa (and I have to ask....Have any other Iowan's reading this ever noticed that we in NW Iowa are the only ones in the state to give our location when asked where we're from?  We don't just say Iowa....it's always NW Iowa.  Always makes me smile). 

We pulled our kids from five and six hundred kid grades to 40 and 50 kid grades and re-opened the grocery store in town. 

Not easy days, but gratifying. 

I'm not claustrophobic anymore.

This weekend my "adopted" home town (which is only 30 miles from my family farm and actual hometown) is having its yearly celebration.  It is a weekend of fun, family and a chance to pause and reflect. 

There is such pride in the preparation of the park area - from the setting of the stage for the band, the slowpitch softball fields, horseshoe pits & sand volleyball area, to the trimming of the trees on the parade route and the primping of the yard where the parade registration takes place.  Particular attention is paid to the yard as it's mine.  :)

It makes me smile to see community (-noun, a social group of any size whose members reside in a specific locality, share government, and often have a common cultural and historical heritage) in action. 

To make the noun a verb.  Heartwarming.  Awe-Inspiring.  Proud.

Whoever grew up in a small town knows what I'm talking about....   Hometown Pride 

As every generation passes, the pride changes a smidge, but it's still there.  From the "old days" when each town had their own baseball team and an arch-rival neighboring town team, to the years I remember well with school pride mingling with town pride - one in the same actually as our schools defined our towns (don't let anyone put the Tigers down or there would be consequences).  Nowadays it's much harder in the rural area, with once long ago rivals now joined as one school district, to have that same sense of individual pride, but we are adjusting and adapting (and now as a Rebel - made up of about 7 towns - you'll get that same look from me you would've gotten 20 years ago if you put us down). 

So these town celebrations bring some of that back.  Class reunions.  Family reunions.  Smiles on the kids' faces as they lean as far as mom will let them from the curb, watching with anticipation for someone on a float in the parade to throw them candy. 

Oh, we still have our issues - the "coffee shop" gossip, the broken families, the once flourishing mainstreets with more empty store-fronts now than full, the five churches that combined might fill one building on Sunday morning, the poverty.....

But for this weekend we come together as a community.  We shine ourselves up and put on our best duds and show off how great OUR town is.

I'm proud to live here.  To raise my kids here.  To do my part to keep rural America alive.  So that my kids can someday tell others about the pride THEY had in their hometown.

Happy Tall Corn Days Sioux Rapids......  :)

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Weary and Worn

As the 3rd, and the baby of three girls, hand-me-downs were a staple of my life.  My mother may disagree and say that I'm imagining it, but I disagree. 

My two sisters are nine and five years older than I am.  In some ways it was amazing....I had cool older sisters with cool older friends and then when they graduated, I had all of Mom & Dad's attention (not to mention my sisters' rooms + mine) and felt very much like an only child.  The downside of them being that much older?  It was like having two other mothers some times....and I got their hand-me-downs.

Most of the hand-me-downs were still fairly in style for spanning a decade - we lived in rural NW Iowa for goodness sake... fashion trends didn't catch up to us quickly.  Some were Sunday dresses - and I looked forward to those...others were school clothes and still some others were designated play/farm clothes because they were the most weary and worn. 

I can remember Mom sewing eyelet around the bottoms of the legs of my blue jeans because I had grown taller and money was a little shorter.  For years I despised eyelet.....with a passion!!  That eyelet singled me out as someone who couldn't afford new - who had to settle for weary and worn.  (In fairness to my mother, I did get my share of new clothes but it's funny that I can't remember them as well....maybe they didn't make an impression on me....huh....interesting....)

There is a lesson in weary and worn....

And I've learned it as I've become a mother on a budget.....

And as I grow daily in my Christian faith....

I am weary and worn....

and there is nothing shameful about it. 

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.    Matthew 11:27-29
 
I think there is blessing in being weary.  If I look hard enough and step past the self pity I can see blessing. 
 
Blessing in being weary because I have three jobs that keep me running and put food on our table and clothes on our backs...
 
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.   Isaiah 40:28-30


Blessing in being weary because I have two healthy teens who are active and keep me on my toes...
 
Blessing in being weary because I am overwhelmed with responsibility because I can't say no....
 
Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. 
Galatians 6:8-10


Blessing in being weary because another friend is battling for her life but has a tremendous faith....
 
My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word.  Psalm 119:27-29


 
Yes....I am learning that there is no shame in weary and worn....in fact, I think I can look good in weary and worn....
 
For in being weary and worn - that's where my Savior finds me and comforts me and reminds me that eyelet isn't a bad thing....it's just a piece of material.  And honestly?  No one even notices.....