I walked into the packed dining room just as prayer was ending. As guests and staff began to sit down, I searched the room for an open seat. I walked past the front of the room, scanning as I went.
"Sarah Hayes!" a voice exclaimed.
I turned as a little four-year-old body with bouncy blonde curls ran toward me.
"Mommy, look! I found Sarah Hayes!"
"Hi, Myra!" I said, scooping her up in a big hug.
"Sarah Hayes, I missed you!"
For the rest of the evening, I had a perpetual four-year-old shadow, wanting to do everything I did.
"Sarah Hayes, can I come with you to your car?"
"Sarah Hayes, can I help you carry your bags?"
"Sarah Hayes, can I ride with you in your car?"
"Sarah Hayes, can I carry your Bible for you?"
"Sarah Hayes...Sarah Hayes...Sarah Hayes."
I think there are few things in this world that make you feel more loved, missed, and home than a four-year-old girl with bouncy blonde curls acting as your perpetual shadow for the better part of an evening.
I spent a day and a half at White Sulphur Springs this past weekend and it was the best medicine I could've asked for.
Do you have that place that just feels like home? It's not your actual home, but it feels like it. Every time you go there, no matter who happens to be there, you just feel restful, at peace. The stress immediately falls from your shoulders and you immediately feel better.
That's what White Sulphur Springs is for me.
It's a beautiful, wonderful place that I've written about I don't even know how many times (like here, here, here, and here) and I absolutely love it.
On Saturday afternoon, I sat on the porch in a rocking chair. I stared out over the incredibly beautiful landscape of the Springs and just smiled. I read some, I journaled some, and for some of it I just sat. I had lots of wonderful conversations (many of them starting with, "So I hear you have a boyfriend...!") and was so sad to leave.
But I left feeling refreshed and it was wonderful.
As I sat on the porch on Saturday afternoon, I thought about how wonderful the Springs is. I thought about how I didn't really grow up as a "Springs kids." I didn't go there until I was in high school. But I would've liked to. I would've liked to have been a "Springs kid." And I decided that I really want that for my kids.
I want the Springs to be a place that is home for them, too. I want them to go there and see an extension of their family. I want them to grow up running across Buckingham field and fishing at the picnic pond and waiting expectantly for dessert to be announced at Thursday afternoon picnics.
And a bit of my heart was heavy as I thought about how wonderful the Springs is. It's so refreshing. It's so wonderful. It's such a beautiful picture of community. I've often called it a greenhouse for spiritual growth.
But I realized that it's a good thing that we can't stay at the Springs forever. Because the Springs isn't designed to be a place that we live at forever and for always. It's designed to be a respite, a home away from home, a place to recuperate and regenerate.
So that we can go back out again. So that we can go back out refreshed and ready to take on the world and all the craziness that it has to throw at us. And so that we can go back out and bring a little bit of the Springs: of the beautiful, wonderful community; of the joy and excitement; of the unconditional love.
And so I am glad for the Springs. I am glad for the time I can spend there, but I am also glad for the time that I am away, because it makes me appreciate my time there so, so much more. And so I will wait expectantly for the next time I will be able to steal away to the Springs, but make the most of the time while I am away.