It used to be in color…

When all of this was in color…

We would ride the golf cart up to the barn to feed the chickens.

My grandma kept a slop bucket of leftovers.

I remember being scared to reach into the hen house to grab the eggs.

There was a vegetable garden just above the barn that we would go pick veggies from.

And up above that was a white car that I never really  understood why it was there.

I think it must be a southern thing to have an old, non running, vehicle in your yard somewhere.

The dogs would be out in that little fence playing while my grandpa worked in his shed.

I would swing on a hot summer day (or in the freezing cold.. because we knew no weather) pushing my feet down as hard as I could to pump it to go faster.

There were flowers always planted and in the winter they were brought to a green house.

You see,

this barn used to be alive.

Active and Alert.

It used to be in vibrant color.

It was young & had purpose.

It produced things, that in return gave us life.

I don’t remember when it stopped.

I don’t remember when the red faded.

I’m not sure when the chickens were no longer

or when that old golf cart took its last spin.

I can’t remember when the shed doors closed and never reopened.

It’s hard for me to imagine when the plants died and nothing was replanted.

The bible says that “For everything there is a season”.

There was a season that all of this was in color.

“A time to be born,

A time to plant,

A time to build up,

A time to laugh,

A time to dance….”

I’m just not sure when the season of

“A time to die,

A time to pluck,

A time to break down,

A time to weep,

A time to mourn…”


That’s the season we are in right now.

The season of break down, weeping, and mourning.

One day though, the Lord will give this season new life.

& I hope when he does,

She runs to the pearly gates with a youthful mind, I hope she sees my grandpa and tells him all about our babies, I hope that they have a reunion feast and then lay at Jesus’ feet. I hope that when this season is given new life she hears a trumpet playing amazing grace and the void of a granddaughter taken too soon is filled. I hope her mama hugs her tight and she walks the streets of gold with her brothers and sisters. I hope she hears “This Little Light of Mine” and sees a young man who doesn’t have down syndrome. Oh what a season it will be Nanny when all of this is given new life!

[Today while taking pictures of my girls at my Nanny and Grandpa’s house (my grandpa who met Jesus long ago and my Nanny who has recently been placed in a nursing home) I looked at my oldest daughter (4) and thought man, she doesn’t even know what this place used to be… and my heart sunk. She will never see this place for what it was… only for the dreary season that it is in now. She couldn’t hear the chickens clucking today, or the hum of the battery in that old golf cart. She was deaf to the dogs barking in the fence or the clacking of the tools from my Grandpa’s shed. I could hear it all. I could see the vegetable garden and the flowers blooming but everything she saw was black and white. She couldn’t see it the same way that I had. & I stood there before we left and I said, “Scarlett, you will never know what this place used to be, it used to be in color”.]








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