Tennessee has been so good to us in innumerable ways.

I was dying in the hospital a couple years back. It was a shocking, horrible time. Eric traveled to the hospital located in another part of the state — and back — every day. It was an hour and a half, each way. You see, not only was he taking care of me – being my advocate, holding my hand, coaching me on how to breathe like a singer (I had a lung disorder at the time) – he was also taking care of our beloved little pets.

We had just moved here from across the country. It seemed like from across the solar system. We didn’t know anyone yet, and were just settling into the home we bought, sight unseen, over the internet. The drive here was long, hard, and exhausting. We were so relieved to be here. It took monumental force to do all the things it took to get here – all the things that go along with moving, cross-country, during a global pandemic. Another story for another time.

One evening as Eric was hightailing it back to the hospital after coming home to feed and comfort our little pets, he was pulled over for speeding on the twisty-turney-backroads. When the officer approached Eric, he asked “why on earth are you going so fast?” – Eric replied, “my wife, she’s in the hospital in Murfreesboro and I am going to go spend the night with her there”. The officer removed his hat, and said, “I am so sorry to hear that. Please know we will all be praying for her this evening.” And let him go.

That was our experience from the start here in Tennessee. So many people prayed over me, with me, and for me, for us — people we didn’t know. People who weren’t allowed to pray outwardly would whisper to me as I lay in that wretched hospital bed, “would you mind if I prayed for you right now?” And there we would be, having church, right there with all the bleepers and tubes and rules and regulations, praising God for his goodness.

Eventually, I got out. It took many months of self-guided rehabilitation to get off the oxygen feed and to gain my strength back. Now, I am better than I have been in years. It’s why I show off my garden so much. It’s my living testimony – the Lord not only restores, he revives. I am walking, breathing, living, jumping, praising proof of His power over and in us all.

I didn’t set out to write about this just now.

What I meant to say was how good Tennessee is. The people here are unlike anywhere else. For instance, I have an acquaintance that I see weekly. Her and her husband are farmers, among other things. They are from another part of the country – transplants, just like us. We are still getting to know each other but she shared with me some struggles she has had recently. She now knows that she call me anytime – we will certainly pray together and support one another as the need arises. We are transplants, setting root. Tennessee is just like that. We don’t seem to have as many suspicions of people here like in other parts of the country. And, for the most part, there isn’t a need for them.

I hope that it stays this way. I hope that the people who come here and re-set roots here, like we did, grow those roots deep and strong in the fertile soil that the Lord has blessed this area with. I hope they get that nourishment to the leaves of their souls, and set beautiful fruit just like this lovely yellow late-summer garden tomato grown by my fellow transplant, lovingly cultivated in the garden known as Tennessee.

God is good. All the time.