I've not spent much time in a barn, not like my husband, Phil, has. He was raised on a farm, put up hay every summer while his eyes swelled shut from hayfever...we celebrated our tenth anniversary together at the Rawhide Ranch, a dude ranch with an 11 room bunkhouse built over the 32 stall horse stable below. (I wrote a little about it here.)
We walked in, smelled the hay, put our bags down and went straight to the pharmacy for Benedryl, Claritin, and Afrin nose spray to ease my poor husband's allergies.
And I thought about the theme of barn smells. It wasn't the animal smells or the dirt or moisture, it was the hay that did my husband in. Such a small little oversight in my planning could have made our whole anniversary trip a disaster without allergy meds. Thank you Lord, for not overlooking the details, not forgetting.
I don't think Christ being born in a barn was a bad thing, I've never thought that. As I get older, I realize that all of this is more than I can comprehend.
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My card is my first foray into the world of digital scrapbooking. Can you see the antique playing card behind my design?
If you'd like to participate, read here.