It is just a store. It is much more than just a store.
Last year we moved from our little house on a busy street in a pleasant community to a more rural setting. I rejoiced and I wept.
I embrace change in theory but rarely in reality.
It's often what we might at first resent that we find ourselves later grieving. For me, the conveniences of city living felt like wearing clothes that were a size too small. Here, in the amazing beauty of nature where a good drive lies between me and retail America, I smile at my foolishness.
Let me clarify, it wasn't so much a choice of will as it was a necessity to pack up and go. Our little house held the memories of early marriage and a new baby and kindships and real life . God had preserved us month by month in that little dwelling through miraculous ways which defy understanding. We look back and marvel and in our wonderment are renewed in courage through faith in a God who is still accomplishing His purpose.
But I still miss my Target.
Laugh if you will. Roll your eyes if you need too. I won't apologize for myself.
It was on a trip to our "new" Target this morning that Evie sighed from the back seat,"I miss our old Target." I echoed her sentiment, grateful for the convenience of our new shoppings but certainly filled with the loss of the familiar. A whole year later.
It was within those "old" red and white walls that a significant piece of my life happened. It was my escape from a day home with a crying newborn and a failing body. It was the silent observer of many anxiety attacks- fellow shoppers wondering at the slow-moving, deep-breathing lady who pushed through to prove to herself that she was not going lose the fight. Through those doors I walked, suffering and dreaming and rejoicing and taking courage and fighting. The comfort of the familiar.
I'm stronger these days. Strong enough to look back and recognize the ordinary gifts that God made extraordinary to me in my days of struggle. For a season, it was mine- the blessing of that Target. A ordinary store and an extraordinary place, close enough yet far away from my front door, a place where I found a good supply of courage.
