6.11- Home is family. Mom, dad, my sibs.

 6.11-

Home is family. Mom, dad, my sibs. Then later Sheila, Jeff, Amy, Jared, Jordan and Donna.
Our family home where I grew up was surrounded by cotton fields. The ground preparation and planting season. The days walking up and down cotton rows ten hours a day to hoe out the weeds.
Eventually, with a good balance of sunshine and rain big green boles would load down the plant. They would pop open with white cotton to be picked and later pulled.
Cotton sacks filled, weighed and emptied. Ginned and baled with checks big enough to pay off the Farmer's And Merchants State Bank with hopes that Mr. Eastman would approve the crop loans for next year.
Family is hard work and hopes year after year with love and sorrow and joy that overcomes all things with God's help.

Psalm 127

127 Unless the Lord builds a house,
They who build it labor in vain;
Unless the Lord guards a city,
The watchman stays awake in vain.
It is futile for you to rise up early,
To [a]stay up late,
To eat the bread of painful labor;
This is how He gives to His beloved sleep.

Behold, children are a [b]gift of the Lord,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.
Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate.

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