This is the family I stayed with in Kentucky on the farm. This is their 600 square-foot trailer.
These images show the heart of their home. Love, laughter, play, togetherness. It was a home full of peace, full of joy, full of light.
It's a true joy. The kind that comes from Jesus. And knowing what really matters. Because it's not for lack of hard times that they have joy.
In the five or six years I've known them, they have been through more major life tragedies than most people will experience in a lifetime. While here in Texas, the place they were storing most of their belongings was broken into and ransacked. Every valuable thing, including some of Kristin's expensive instruments, was stolen. They bought their first house, and because of problems caused by developer, it ended up being in a flood zone and becoming nearly worthless. A minor car accident turned into litigation and financial chaos. In the midst of all that, they miscarried several times. The baby they finally kept was born at twenty-seven weeks and spent months in NICU on the edge of life. He is now four years old, and if you can't tell from the photos, the light of their lives. They left San Antonio, and purchased beautiful farm land with the goal of starting their own farm and filling it with their children. But a dam past their property was modified, turning their property in a lake once a year. The first time it happened, they were living in a tent on their land, and lost most everything they owned that hadn't been stolen before. Now they owe more than the property is worth. A few more miscarriages occurred. The family farm business they are trying to start has been a rough road with little income and much work. Their second son was born at eighteen weeks and didn't make it. Thankfully, their third baby is still safely in-utero at thirty-six weeks after trying to come into the world at twenty-eight weeks. Her sonogram photos can be seen in these photos, on the wall next to the piano.
But if you didn't know these things, you'd never guess. There's no "what if's" or "poor me's" or living in the sadness of the past. There's just peace and joy. And now, there's hope too. Hope for this precious baby to come, who is getting bigger and stronger every day. Hope for her to arrive safely and peacefully. Confidence that together, they can hang on through anything. Security in knowing Jesus has been there, and will be there, and our hope and peace and joy lies in Him. Peace that passes understanding, as the phrase goes. Joy despite the sorrows. Hope to see a future that is bright. Embracing simplicity. Hanging tightly to family. Making a life and home that is a refuge for others.
I felt overwhelmed in a way, being there. Overwhelmed by the Lord's goodness. Overwhelmed by the simple peace. Overwhelmed to know a family like this, who have been courageous and resilient. Whose spirits glow with the strength and beauty of the Lord. It was a gift. I came home changed. And grateful. Grateful for the gift they gave me.
