Being Blessed

I am sitting here in my friend Cheryl's house and she doesn't even know it. I just drove over, opened her door, had a loving reunion with her yellow lab Scout, called out her name multiple times, smelled some coffee, poured myself a cup, sat down and now here I am blogging. I have no idea where she is. This is what I love about being home.
I don't know why or how I became so blessed. I had a friend come and stay with me for a couple of days this week. I met her when we did our YWAM dts together (www.ywam.org) 5 years ago. She is Australian and immigrated to the U.S. this year. Anywho, she came here to see me and all she kept saying was, 'You are incredibly blessed and I hope you know that.' She was right.
I pretty much grew up in this little seaside town called Cambria, which, in and of itself, is a bright little community. But when I gave my life to Christ just over 7 years ago, I became a part of a church community of which likes I have not encountered anywhere else. This same friend, after sitting through a church service here with me, said as she wiped away tears, 'The love of Christ is so powerful and tangible here. It feels like a family.' I was shedding tears, too, as I gave thanks to God in my heart for this body of believers who, no matter how long I am away, always recieve me back with open, loving arms, provide for all my needs and remind me of the constant joy we have in the Saviour. Truly, truly, this town, these people, my home church are the lap of God for me here on Earth.
And then there's my amazingly precocious and tender-hearted nephew, who, now when he sees me says, 'You! You're here, Auntie Amy! You want to drink some rain with me?' I taught him how to stick out his tongue to catch rain droplets the other day and he thought it was the best thing ever. Wait til he tastes his first snow.
God is good. I am blessed. Have a great day, Cheryl-- thanks for letting me hang in your house!