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Park

Updated: Jan 23

31 Days of Practicing Faith


In October, I am free writing for five minutes a day—raw and unedited—on practicing faith in the every day. Each day is based on a different prompt from 31 Days of Five Minute Free Writes


{Day 21} - Park

The grass peeks through the blankets in places, looking like a brightly colored quilt with a sea of people on it. We come here often to this hillside. It's become a place of refuge for us, an anchor to our home. It's funny how we gravitate to these parks, these places to be alone in a crowd. There is something comforting in being near other people all enjoying the beauty of God's magnificent creation. All our lives are intertwined somehow in this place but the memories we make here are our own. Each person comes here for a different reason but all get something much needed—rest or rejuvenation togetherness or escape. I think we come here to build more of a connection to this place we call home so that when we move next year we can hold this memory. It will be something tangible to us. We will be able to smell the Georgia pines, remember the way the sun set over the mountain, and hear the laughter of a park full of people. When we lived in the Middle East we had a park, too. In a world that was mostly dusty and brown, covered in sand, we found an escape in the middle of the city. It took a taxi ride and an entry fee to get in so we didn't get to come often. But when we were missing home and life get too overcrowded in a city of 20 million, we found our way there. We would sit near other couples and listen to their conversations in Arabic, barely understanding a word or two. We would stare out over the old city, rows of buildings crammed together—such a contrast to the wide open pools and lawns of the sanctuary we had found there. When I think back to our time in that city, it's the days in this park that remind me of the goodness we found there. In a place where life was chaotic, there was peace to be found. Not just in that park but in the home of a friend, in sharing coffee and broken English conversation, in the hospitality so freely given to us. Sometimes it took stepping out of the dusty streets to remember it, but the beauty was always there. It's always here. We just have to look for it and remember to find it.

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