The other morning while I sat and waited at a red light on my way to work, I took a second to look at the mountains that stand so impressively along the edge of Denver. They’re certainly a sight to behold, and they're particularly lovely in the morning. I thought about how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place. But that being said, as much as I like it here and as much as we have come to feel at home here… my true home always has been and always will be… in Texas.
(image via)
Being from Texas is a special thing, in a way that probably only Texans truly understand. I have a dear friend in Texas who is getting ready to move to Chicago, and the other day he wrote a blog that offered a thought that I found particularly poignant…
“Texas, however, will always be the only place we will ever truly consider to be home. I know this in my heart the same way I know that God put a very special people in this land for a reason… That’s part of the reason Texans are so proud of who they are, and where they come from. It’s not some abstract “because we’re bigger” reason. It’s because of a sense deep inside that we are different, and set aside for a special purpose; both individually and as a whole.”
I couldn’t agree with him more. As much as we like Colorado, our hearts have never truly left Texas. It’s more than having grown up there… it’s the way time seems to slow down a little when you’re in the hill country, the unassuming beach towns like Port Aransas that feel like an old friend when you return summer after summer, the rich and honorable history of my hometown of San Antonio, the friendly “hello” waves you get from total strangers when you pass on the road, the goodness of its people, and the sense of camaraderie that you seem to feel with them simply for being fellow Texans. It makes me proud to say that Texas is where I’m from, even though I know that others don’t always understand why that is. And that’s ok… they just haven't seen how the stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas.
