I sit here, in my living room, staring out at a very different mountain view then the one I grew up enjoying. It makes sense because now I'm in Tennessee.It's true. I'm a Tennessean. Or Tennessonian. Or Tennessite. I'm not sure which. People here seem to go with "Volunteer", and I like that idea.
Every once in awhile, when the days seem most normal, when a simple human need strikes - like mailing a letter or buying gas - it hits me. I don't live in West Virginia anymore. This is Tennessee.
Though the surroundings are certainly unfamiliar and the language quite strange, I can't help but remember the the many people God has called to far more exotic places than Kingsport. Sure, I don't have the requisite accent (though I might pick it up - the sound is so charming), but the people here don't seem to care.
All of which makes me want to Volunteer.
So, God, what can I do today?
1 comment:
We are glad to have you in K-Town! I'm a transplant too (from SC) and both my children are being raised her. And they BOTH have a strong East Tennessee accent. I actually say it's a SW Virginia accent because their wonderful preschool teachers were/are from there. My SC family comments on G's word choice and accent often. But it is part of who she is and will be with her as she grows up. And it's not such a bad thing to have a reminder of people who loved you as their own when mommy and daddy had to work. :-)
I think I got off on a tangent there, but the point is this ... own your accent! No matter where it's from. Blessings!
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