I'm thankful that home for my family is down a rough dirt road that doesn't get a lot of traffic. I know there are people who would never dream of living out in the middle of nowhere, but when I see the craziness of this world I can see the blessing of being surrounded by fields, trees, hills, and animals.
I'm glad that my kids play in the dirt and feed livestock and haul rocks and build fence.
Don't get me wrong--they spend way too much time in front of screens, too. But they wander in the woods and splash through mud puddles and climb trees and catch snakes.
To some extent, they are shielded from the horrors of this world. Our family is tucked away, hidden in the beauty of the hills. We can step outside and hear the water rushing over the rocks in the spring when rain is common.
We can pick honeysuckle, rose petals, persimmons, chicory, wild onions, sassafras, blackberries, and chamomile.
We listen to the bullfrogs, coyotes, and owls at night. We can gaze up at the night sky and try to count the stars or look out over the field and try to count the lightning bugs. We collect eggs each morning while counting the days until the goose hatches her brood.
I'm thankful for a place where time seems to move just a little bit slower, even though at the same time it feels like there's never enough hours in the day. And I'm most thankful for the people I share it with.