Staff writer
A few months ago I wrote an editorial for this paper about what life has been like for my family since we moved to Marion in August. My husband and I moved here at the end of the summer from Big City upbringings with our new baby girl, Lyla, knowing life in Marion would be an adjustment.
We knew small town living would bring challenges we couldn’t anticipate, but we hoped there’d be joys and blessings we couldn’t imagine as well.
One of the things I was most looking forward to in moving here was having a garden where I could grow my own organic vegetables (we’re vegetarian) and teach my daughter about the miracle of life finding its way through the dirt.
I was deeply disappointed when we were unable to move here in time to have a garden, as I was sure the winter would seem less barren with shelves full of my own canned produce.
I prayed God would keep my eyes, ears, and heart open and that the local grocer would have one or two organic things to get us through.
A few months ago, I’d pretty much given up on being open.
A few months ago, I was trying to figure out if having the bank teller know my name when I drive up to the window and a two-minute commute to work outweighed having to drive 45 minutes to get our vegetarian grocery staples and chlorine-free diapers.
A few months ago, I hated that my own struggle to adapt to things like abbreviated store hours made even daily life feel daunting. I was living with a lot less grace than I wanted.
I’m glad the editor didn’t print what I handed in a few months ago.
Maybe it’s the weather changing. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve got my garden planned out and the heirloom variety seeds I ordered finally arrived. Maybe I’m enjoying the change of pace with spring break. Something is different.
I was at the hardware store recently in Marion, looking for some gardening items. I was carrying Lyla as I loaded my arms with merchandise. She was getting fussy, and the store was out of many of the things on my list.
I was hot from wrestling with her and irritated that I might have to go elsewhere to get everything on my list.
I grabbed what they had and walked to the counter. And I stood for what seemed like a long time. I was dripping with sweat, trembling, but I noticed a man in front of me had a dog in his arms. Salvation!
He let my fussy toddler pat his dog (I don’t think I even asked) and kept her happy while we waited. Relief. Somebody else was entertaining her, giving me a few seconds to really notice my daughter.
What I noticed was a rash – all over her body. I called the physician and was able to get in right that moment. I’ve never heard of such a thing. I called my husband to tell him, but his cell phone was off. Great.
On my two-minute drive from the hardware store to the doctor I passed a bunch of track kids. Perfect! I knew they’d see Michael because he’s an assistant coach. I rolled down my window.
“When you guys see Mr. Ayers will you tell him to turn his phone on?”
Maybe that was weird … it felt weird … but I got a call from my husband a few minutes later, which helped me to slow down and breathe a little deeper. And that’s exactly what I needed to do.
Something IS different. I’m ready.
Ready to be pleasantly surprised by Marion.
Ready to plant some seeds and see them grow.
I can’t wait to see what I see with my eyes open.