one piece to the puzzle

i have a larger one coming on my reflections and revelations from the trip overall but that must be saved for when i have more time, no headache, and after a better nights sleep. so here is one day's thought- the day we left.

Dec. 27th-
Two days after Christmas and the glistening warmth of the holiday is gone. The picturesque blanket of white is gone, replaced by cold, dark rain. The land is frigid and barren. It feeds and tears at my soul at the same time. Last night was the breaking point for me. I needed to go home. I've been away too long. I thought leaving would do me good; it only gave my mind time to run wild.
Finally this dreary day we set off for home. The weather befitting my melancholy mood. So many emotions and realizations have come this trip I anticipated to only be a simplistic jaunt to Bebe's (what I call my mom's mom).
I've been reading Psalms as usual and a fabulous book that God knew I needed. All speaking to my place in life now. But God still has His little ways to let me know He's there. It seems His conviction comes from His Word, a book like I'm reading, or a person's word's. His pure encouragement seems to come from things I see in nature or merely a pleasure read. But today i saw something that I hope was one of those "signs". Perhaps when I notice these things it is not a true and sudden revelation but a culmination of realizations God already gave me buried deep inside my heart and He finds instances to bring them together in front of my face. Or these are simply romantic notions of a girl with too active and analytical imagination. [And God is hysterical right now... as I try to unravel His mind]
No matter, here's what I saw:
Coming out of that small Midwestern town onto the highway, my languishing eyes gazed out the window to see the grey view mostly full of trees. Suddenly a strip of land more typical of the neighboring Kansas landscape of corn fields with small barns and scattered farm equipment and a house dotting the horizon occasionally. Of course the fields are empty and dead in the middle of Winter. As I took in this scene a patch of vacant field came into view. For some reason I completely identified with it: flat, cold, dead, resting, waiting for seed and cultivation. As I looked harder I could see the tip of some trees off in the distance. We traveled farther on and those peeking branches just out of reach began to grow in sight and they were joined by others. The tree line moved closer and close to the edge til my picture was completely changed to one of a nearly black forest. It was thick but then began to clear again to reveal a small field. At the end of that grassy patch, I suddenly faced the front of a thing you would think only seen in the movies or written about in novels - a tiny white country church with that pristine and perfectly proportioned steeple and those cozy white steps with rod iron railing leading to burgundy door. Yep all that your imagination conjures. There it was after my dead field and the dense forest. Then just behind peeked a small white home...