M.Comment

Eighteen.

M.Comment
Eighteen.
 

As we sat in the barn of a complete stranger, 2000 miles from home, tears poured down my face as he played his guitar and sang his songs. My heart filled with sadness over his broken heart. Rory Feek, the overall-wearing storyteller, warmly invites strangers into his barn to hear his stories put to song. I’ve wanted to go for years, long before Joey and Rory became just Rory. So a few weeks ago I decided to look up the schedule. I casually text Kraig, who was working, and told him Rory was performing again. In true Kraig fashion, within minutes I got a text from him with a confirmation for flights and tickets to Rory’s show! I am so grateful for Kraig’s outgoingness that pushes me out of my comfort zone and gives me some of my most cherished experiences- including this one. (Also extremely grateful for parents who so willingly love on our babies so we can make these experiences happen!) 

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Since my early days of motherhood most days in our home, the soothing, sweet voice of Rory’s wife, Joey, fill our rooms. Over my years of being a mama, this music has become my backdrop and my inspiration for what I want my legacy for my family to be. This music reminds me that mothering is a verb. It reminds me to point my kids to the cross. It reminds me of the joys found in the grit of mothering and making a home. And after being in that barn hearing these songs sung live, by the man left behind, the importance of that legacy became overwhelmingly real. 

Joey is gone. Her legacy is not. Her music plays a part in that, but more than that her genuine display of gentleness, goodness, peace, love, and joy has a lasting impression because they don’t show off Joey, but instead her Savior. And that’s where her legacy lies. My days of mothering and being a wife get to continue, and I hope that I can lean into that same Savior to give me just a piece of those same fruits. 

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Watching that broken-hearted man in overalls pick up the pieces of his heart by lovingly welcoming people on to his land, rather than building a barrier to protect what has already been hurt, pointed me right to the heart of Jesus. I never thought a small concert in a barn could offer so much.