Ah, August dacha time in
Russia! When Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I lived in Russia, August
was the month, when it seemed as if half the population of Moscow
fled the city to enjoy a month at their summer dachas. The time was
spent relaxing, socializing, enjoying the countryside, and tending
the potatoes, cabbage, beets, and other crops that would sustain the
family during the winter. The electric train rides between Moscow and
Klin were often standing room only, as travelers came and went with
gardening supplies or harvested crops. The aroma of fresh soil,
harvested crops, and, yes, human sweat filled the wagons. We had
opportunities to “go to dacha” with friends or to vacation, going
to St. Petersburg, Turkey, and Ireland.
Americans need to slow
down, stop, and take “dacha time” more often. We rush from task
to task, work too many hours, endure too much stress, and lose our
life balance in the process. A year, five years, a decade go by, and,
looking back, we wonder how we came to the point in life where we are
now. We bury ourselves in the darkness of our lives, failing to
realize that the light is all around us.
The Appalachian Irishman
has wandered through a decade of darkness – searching for
understanding, purpose, motivation, and meaning, having faced a faith
and career challenge – since his godly mother suffered a yearlong
illness and passed, so traumatically and so early in her life,
immediately after he and his devoted wife returned from Russia. A
recent series of events has enlightened the Appalachian Irishman,
causing him to renew, refresh, and refocus his life. It is his “dacha
time.”
My dear, precious, and
lovely Mrs. Appalachian Irishman has patiently endured and stood by
her man’s side, even when he did not want her to do so. Her
unconditional love brought her husband back from the brink. Words
cannot express the depth of love, respect, and appreciation that I
have for her. Thank you, my dear, for your patient long-suffering.
Our renewal enlightens my renewal. The clouds have parted, and the
future is filled with sunshine.
The Appalachian Irishman
will take his “dacha time” now. He will find his center and
pursue it, in meaningful focus and direction. God’s grace is there,
as it has always been. He has just been waiting on me to find it
again. Hum, where do we go from here? I drop the reins and look
forward to His guidance.
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