Possible Reason #1: Family Heritage and a passion for Texas History

His family comes from the part of the world where our 9 acres sit and has had land since not too long after Stephen F. Austin brought the first settlers into then Mexico from the United States.  (We recently did the research to find out that the family ranch sits on one of the four abstracts along the Colorado originally owned by Austin himself and later given to his sister upon his death.  Our land is part of an abstract that was adjacent to Austin’s and was owned by a man close to Austin who hosted meetings and even fought Indians with Austin.)  The family spot is no 4000-acre sitio (what Austin would have given to a rancher amongst the Old 300), but it’s a nice chunk of land with beautiful green pastures, some friendly cows, some ornery horses, a creek running through the middle, and crisp, clear nights just begging for a chorus lauding the stars at night.

Ever since his parents took to spending more time at the family land, the Rectangle, (and eventually moving there full time a couple of years ago) we have talked about how we would retire out there one day—or at the very least build a fabulous place for family gatherings for generations to come, one that we would visit as a weekend and holiday escape from our fun, fast-paced city life.  When the kids were younger, the drive out there seemed a whole lot longer, and our visits were sporadic.  As the kids have grown (along with their bladders and the ability to control them) and their interests have varied, we find ourselves spending more and more time taking them out there to kayak and swim in the creek, pick up pecans to be sold by the pound, ride horses, admire the new calves, occasionally chase an older calf and try to rope it, shoot at water bottles and zombie targets down by the ditch, play in piles of dirt for hours, play one-on-one paintball, and spend entire weekends with grandparents NOT turning on a television or an iPod and maybe only going inside to sleep or take a shower.  We’ve found ourselves longing for more opportunities for the kids to enjoy time like this at home, but you just can’t go out back and shoot imaginary zombies in a planned community.  (Although, we do have an inordinate number of possums roaming through our planned community—across my back fence every night at 9:00 p.m. to be exact—and they may or may not have been painted orange and purple at the hands of an 11-year-old with mad marksman skills and his paintball marker from time to time.)

Plus, the kids love their grandparents.  And my only-child husband’s best friend is his dad.  Why shouldn’t they get to be close by one another?  Proximity to friends has never slowed me down.  I can carry on some pretty meaningful friendships via text message and an occasional girls’ weekend or multi-family vacation.  Of my three best friends in the world (besides my husband), only one lives within 200 miles.  Mileage doesn’t determine the strength of our bonds.  The Lord established our friendships long ago, and we’ll be family forever more.  Plus, I’m the one who makes friends everywhere and keeps adding to my circle.  Moving to a new place just expands that circle.

Our 9-acre spot is just about a mile and a half from the in-laws’.  They were a mile and a half away from us when we all lived in the suburbs too.  It’s close, but not too close, and it’s big at 9 acres, but not too big.  We are close enough to borrow tractors and share vegetables and can even use our land to wean calves and separate heifers from the bulls.  (This summer Grandpa learned that no amount of barbed wire can keep an eager young bull from a pretty, young heifer.  If we move the heifers to our land, we can prevent any future teenage pregnancies at the Rectangle.)

As I’ve watched my husband and children enjoy the Rectangle over the years and as I’ve shared our experiences out there with friends, I’ve observed and grown to understand a man’s desire for a legacy more and more.  It seems there’s something in every man that wants to work the land and see its fruit.  There’s also something in them that wants to leave a legacy for their children.  It’s as if God placed that desire in man from the very beginning (Gen. 1:28).  One day, the Rectangle will be his which he will hand down to our children.  Our nearby 9 acres gets him that much closer to his inheritance.  (Wow!  I bet there’s a really great biblical analogy in that statement right there!...)