"...Trampling over death by death. Come awake, come awake..."

Hail and torrential rain gives way to clear twilight skies in the hills of East Tennessee.

Then more rain.

Then the skyline with the distinct tower that should be in Gotham before swinging northwards to the end destination.

After a drive, the lights of urbanization shut off and the world seemingly goes to sleep with nothing more than a house light or the headlights on the red Honda Civic lighting the area around it. To the left of the exit ramp, the lights of a small town with the famous McDonald's arches light the road. To the right, pitch black.

Then, a right turn.

The twists and turns of the rural roads wind and weave their ways like small creeks, leading to another small road, creating an intricate web of small roads.

As the sun rises over this land, the daylight exposes what the nighttime had once hidden just hours before. Green dominates the landscape hear, as field after field rolls blankets a rolling hillside or two. Several colors of barn, from freshly-painted red to worn-out and abandoned brown, dot each of these fields and the smell of tobacco or whatever is in full bloom at the time gives the area a certain feel.

The town, somewhere within the low 300's in total population, quietly sits alongside a railroad that at one time was a major factor in its economic success. A post office is the centerpiece of the central area, next to a Baptist Church, directly across from a United Methodist Church. City Hall lies down the road, next to a local ball field. City Hall isn't much bigger than the post office. All the name-brand stores and restaurants are in the next town over.

Here, life is simpler. Life is quieter. Life is where you come home from school or church and enjoy a nice home-cooked meal with the family. Life is where shooting hoops on a grass court or fishing in a nearby pond are part of the regular activities. Life is where the neighbor's dog casually walks into your backyard, knowing full well that he is more than welcome here. Life is community, where the church's congregation knows each other very well and it more than willing to welcome in a stranger from outside into their loving arms.

Life is driving around at twilight, sitting with some of your best friends as you watch a sunset sink into the hillsides, giving off the most vibrant red and orange colors while giving way to the most stars one can see for miles around. Life is feeling that you are part of the family and treated as such, despite there being three boys in the house already.

A small town like this would usually be overlooked by a commoner. It's quite easy to overlook. Stay on the interstate and it is passed right on by. Need to get something or eat a meal? Head one town east. It's simply remarkable, however, how God can take a town of such small size and give it an entirely new perspective.

This town is known as Cedar Hill. It is home to a number of things, namely a family and a home that could easily be considered a second family. It is home to a place where safety is felt, where one can go if need be and the problems go away. It is home to some guys that are true friends. God turned a tiny blip on most maps into a pretty special place.

God placed Cedar Hill into my life for a reason. This weekend finally gave the chance to realize why.