“Never thought I'd be so far from Georgia
Georgia's where I knew I'd always live and die
Now here I am travelin' through [Wyoming]
Livin' on the road, just tryin' to survive” -Brent Cobb
Since I was a boy, I’ve dreamed of the days of cowboys roaming the high prairies of the West. I remember many young hours spent on a floral velvet couch watching westerns with my grandpa as we daydreamed together about what it might be like to live in those dusty old ghost-towns. Something about that big sky country and exploring those vast landscapes from horseback gripped my heart. I’m not killing any bad guys, but I will say, I feel the closest to John Wayne and Louis L’Amour than I ever have.
There’s a lot that we can learn from the way the ancient Israelites lived their lives. They had a militant regiment of rest that reminded them of our Creator-God, their relationship with food pointed to the provision of the Father, every element of their lives pointed back to God. My favorite perspective that they carried was that the Israelites did not live on the land. They chose to live in the land. If the land was not doing well, they were not doing well. They were inseparable. Of course, living in an agrarian society, they depended on the land to keep them alive, but I think it was more than that. It was a matter of the heart. They loved the land in their hearts. They cared for the land and it cared for them.
Our hearts are wired to be connected to place.
In a podcast, the speaker posed a question that stopped me in my tracks-
“Where is home, and what happened to it?”
If you want to get deep with someone quick, I’d recommend starting there. Home is so deeply connected to our identity that it is the most familiar landing pad for people to start the process of becoming vulnerable.
For some, home was a new town every other year for their childhood. For others, it was a place they didn’t want to be no matter what state the house was in. For some, it was the best place on Earth. For others, they couldn’t wait to get out. For all of us, it was dysfunctional in some aspect.
Week in and week out, men come through Refuge, sit around the table, and when asked “what burden do you need to leave at the table,” the majority of the time, they begin with their relationship to home. Kids, spouse, parents, childhood, etc. It is the backbone of who we are.
So establishing a new home is tough. I feel like a transplanted Georgia-peach tree in the West haha. That’s part of the reason that it’s taken me so long to get back in front of the computer and start typing. Life has been insanely transitional for me the past few months and I’m still figuring out how to cultivate new rhythms. So, thank you for being patient with me.
That being said, it’s no excuse.
I’m finding that creativity is actually a practice of discipline and not skill. A matter of will and not ability. I will go as far as to say that it is a spiritual discipline. When we create, we reflect the Creator in whom we live and breath and have our being. Our creativity points back to our true home in the Garden- where we once lived in the land with YHWH himself. I love that Solomon’s Temple was elaborately decorated with garden imagery to remind the people inside that we are headed back to that place when we pull on heaven with our worship to God.
For now, this is what I have to offer, my friends, and it is enough for today.
A Few Good Things
Finding elk sheds while scouting on horseback (Thora is the queen)
Taking Lindey out on the trails for the first time!
“Live From Echo Mountain” x Charles Wesley Godwin
Parents coming to visit for Mother’s Day and catching 21” cut-bows on the Bighorn!
More creativity coming your way soon!
Onward,
Desi
Iron & Oak is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
