We spanned all ages ... pre-schooler, elementary student, middle school, college, four middle-aged, and four octogenarians.
We were literally out in the middle of nowhere, sitting around the dining room table in a house surrounded by corn and soybean fields, twenty miles from any town over 1,000 people.
We discussed one person's childhood memories of living in a Mongolian "tent."
Someone else asked about my experiences in Japan.
Our hostess spent time in Africa.
One of the men spent nine weeks on a round-the-world missions trip.
One of the octogenarians has traveled to 153 countries.
While we did in fact hear a little about other places, mainly we were blooming where we were planted and spent our time delighting in each other's company, talking about the crops and the need for rain, and enjoying the creative cake-decorating skills of the younger set.
It hasn't always been that way for me ... to bloom where I'm planted.
When is a time you have felt like you were really blooming where you were planted? Or what do you do to help yourself bloom where you are planted?
No comments:
Post a Comment