We've recently been taking long adventurous drives through the countryside near our house- particularly when we had the flu, we would get very stir crazy but didn't want to "go" anywhere. So we'd drive and drive. The kids would fall into a deep slumber lulled by the rumble of wheels on pavement, and James would drive as slow as he wanted on the back country roads as we looked for all the hundred year old houses that dot the landscape like little jewels if you look close enough. In the upheaval of all this craziness that has been our lives this last year or so, these old houses and barns bring me such peace. It's something about the age, the patina. The fact that they are still useful. Most of them saw, and survived, the Depression. Some are a little down on their luck these days, but were obviously well loved during their days of service. Some switched professions, like this apparent church or school turned hay barn. And somehow, still lovely and beautiful after all these years. It gives me hope- it reminds me that this is only a season, and that God is still in control and He still has a plan for our family. Someday, I hope my faith resembles these old, beautiful, lovely houses, with strong foundations and strong beams that have stood the test of time and the storms of life.