There’s something incredibly special about spending your entire life in one place. I’m 65 years old, and I spent the first 18 of them on Johnson Road in Wallburg, North Carolina. It’s a quiet, meandering road dotted with ranch homes, farmland, and good people. I was blessed with an idyllic childhood there.
My father must have known that my siblings and I wouldn’t want to stray far from the nest, because he wisely purchased land just two miles away for us to build on. As soon as I got married, I knew exactly where I would settle down.
Over the years, I’ve seen Johnson Road change with the times. Some of my original neighbors have passed on to their heavenly homes. Now, their houses are filled with young people and children — the next generation entrusted to steward this stretch of land we love. In fact, my youngest daughter, Carly, now lives in my childhood home with her own family.
However, there are a handful of folks on the road who still remember me as a child. When I was a young mother, I delivered cassette tapes of the Sunday sermon to them, bringing the message into their homes when they couldn’t get out to attend church. As technology advanced, those tapes became obsolete, replaced by online streaming. I yearned for a way to connect with my neighbors again.
A few years ago, God laid it on my heart to start what my husband and I call “The Paper Route.” A few times a week, we drive the short jaunt over to see those familiar faces. If the weather is good, we walk there. We bring in their newspaper, deliver bags filled with treats and devotionals, and spend a few minutes fellowshipping and catching up. This personal connection blesses everyone, but it truly encourages older folks — especially those who are lonely and want someone to talk to.
The group has shrunk a little over the years, but the love remains. Each week, I look forward to visiting my regulars–Patty, Mary Frances, and Pat. I’ve toured castles in Europe and sailed the White Cliffs of Dover, but we don’t have to travel far to see God’s most beautiful handiwork. It can be seen right at home, in the places and faces we love.
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