I recently went back to a home where I spent so many days as a child. 

The old home at the end of Rafter J. Road has been largely untouched for a while now, but I still remember running through the tall grass in Summer to get to the large blackberry bush out back. I remember playing with toy tractors in the sandy driveway until supper time, and hesitantly feeding goats and chickens in the barn, afraid my fingers would be bitten off at any second.

But now all that remain here are these memories. The walls have since been cracked, the rooms filled with clutter, and the toys strewn through the yard, rusted from the years of wet Springs and harsh Summers.

These moments are always bittersweet. Bitter, because the days of innocence and picking blackberries behind the house are long gone. But sweet, because each time I look at my wife, my family, my friends, and my dog Marty, I’m reminded how faithful Jesus has been to guide my path since those barefoot days in the sandy driveway.

It's easy to dwell on and mourn these memories of yesteryear. But may we never forget what a blessing today is.