We’re (Jana and Darron) back at our tiny cabin in the Carolina mountains for the summer, our longest stay yet. Our plans and dreams for this place continue to unfold. The goal this time is to have it Airbnb ready by the time we pull out of here in late August. We love it here and we figure other people might love it too. I sensed from the beginning this is not just for us. It’s meant to be shared. 

It’s a strange feeling dividing our time - and our hearts - between two different places on the map. Both feel like home. Both call us for different reasons. In fact, I would say these places chose us more than we chose them. 

Our home in Texas is where we live and work and engage daily with family and community; North Carolina is where we sort of step aside from day-to-day life for a little while to dream and plan and work with our hands. It feels somehow more earthy and back to our roots here, like we can almost pretend we’re farmers & carpenters living off the land in some bygone generation. 

It’s the now and the not yet. Appreciating what is while we look forward to what is to come. 

Two weeks ago we loaded our SUV - for the fourth time since we purchased this property in 2020 - and made the two-day drive from Texas to North Carolina. This trip invariably stirs up a range of emotions. I’m always excited for new discoveries and the challenge of turning more of our vision into a reality, but mix in there a fair dose of nostalgia over the passing of time, bemoaning the laws of physics that only allow me to be one place at a time. 

The week before leaving, Alyssa and some treasured friends threw the most amazing party for my 60th birthday. They transformed the space we share between the houses into a magical summer night soiree to remember, complete with twinkle lights, brisket tacos and live music. Two days later we sat around the big farm table in that same space and shared a goodbye dinner with Toby and Amber (the other writer for The Space We Share) before their move to Colorado. The nostalgia hit hard that night as Cyrus, Malachi and River chased each other around the yard and we realized Sophie and Izzie were their age when this family friendship began. Sophie begins college next month. Just another marker of the passing of time. 

It comes back to our limited capacity to only be one place at a time. Every choice, every yes means a whole passel of no’s. If I’m here with these people doing these things I can’t be there with those people doing those things. So I want to choose wisely and live well in the moment. 

An HGTV couple could have knocked out this entire renovation in 30 days. Darron and I move at a slower pace. In our defense, we don’t have a crew working long hours behind the scenes while we haggle adorably at the antique shop. Most days it’s just the two of us doing the work. We plan and strategize. We build, sand, paint, stain and plant. And we pray a lot. 

Of course there’s no perfection this side of heaven. We call this our happy place, but the truth is it’s a mixed bag. It’s blazing hot afternoons followed by chilly evenings and sleeping with the windows open. It’s a nightly light show of fireflies and constellations and morning coffee on the deck and endless hard-working days. It’s Christmas tree farms and wineries, farmer’s markets and baby bunnies in the yard, hornet stings and ticks and a bear roaming the neighborhood. It’s carpenter bees eating our log cabin, summer thunderstorms, washing clothes at the laundromat, five thousand trips to Lowe’s, apples on the tree and a fire in the fire pit. 

It’s the now and the not yet. Appreciating what is while we look forward to what is to come. 

There will be a point where we’re no longer bound by time and space, where we have all of eternity to do ALL the things and time passing doesn’t equate to an aging body or missed opportunities. This is our hope in Christ.

In the meantime, as missionary pilot Jim Elliott would say, “Wherever you are, be all there.”

While I’m here, I want to be all here. Focused and intentional and basking in the glory of God in this place.