Brownwood, Texas

Living in the country between Brownwood and Bangs, I drive nearly 15 minutes to work every morning down the highway through beautiful, rolling hills filled with live oak trees, mesquite, and the occasional deer. It is a special time for me and one I do not take for granted. I leave my house most mornings before 7 a.m., drive down the road, and turn onto the highway for the brief journey, a journey I value for its calm reflection of the joys in my life and the beauty that surrounds me. As I navigate the road with its gentle hills, soft curves, and smooth, sloping grade, I anticipate the moment that greets me every morning, the view.

Outside of Brownwood, at the top of the hill, sits a small rest area. With trees and a little table, it is a nice resting spot for travelers or for anyone wanting to look down into the valley known as Brownwood. But I never stop, I never need to stop, for I am as familiar with it as my own hand. Before heading down the hill, I glance down and give a smile to the small town to which I am headed. My smile is a tribute to where I work and where I spend a large part of my time and where my career has been centered for 17 years, the town of Brownwood and Howard Payne University.

As I slow down before the descent, I see the hotels, the orange glow of Home Depot, the red brick on the police station, the warehouses, the many homes, businesses, parks, churches, schools, all the things that make the community a special place. After a rain, there is a shimmering glisten of fresh wet droplets that seems to envelope the whole area, making it appear almost glassy and fanciful as though a comforter from the clouds has blanketed the village. Looking like a city from a dream that has suddenly appeared, one wonders if this is the magical world from Brigadoon that only exists every 100 years.

It is a joyful, warm feeling that permeates my thoughts as I crest the hill and begin the brief journey downward to work. In spite of the occasional challenges that work brings and in spite of differing views from people, and in spite of not being a large metropolitan environment, Brownwood is a great place to live and to work. People come in all shapes and sizes and are often a colorful mosaic of flaws and imperfections, this writer no exception, amidst beauty and intrigue; and yet, it is people that complete our lives and keep it interesting. Of course driving the streets of Brownwood or shopping or eating at restaurants would be much simpler if nobody else were involved, but would it really be preferable? Absolutely not.

Plus I must admit that Brownwood is not exactly in a valley and we really live on the outskirts of town with a Bangs post office box and a Brownwood physical address. And if I sincerely want to be honest, there might be a few things here and there that are difficult to handle in our fair city. Not to mention that it has been a very dry, hot summer.

But whenever the complexities of life in dealing with others threaten the joy within, I begin to dwell on the view on the top of the hill. A view that I treasure each day and a view that reminds me of God's beauty and God's creation. Sure, it has flaws, but Brownwood is a great place to live. As I prepare for three months in London, England, a beautiful place all its own, I click my mental camera on the little town in the valley known as Brownwood and am honored to call it my home.