It was dark as I turned into the drive of 1510 West Holly Trail, but the porch light seemed to say, “I’ve been waiting for you….good to have you home.”
The Cruiser rolled in the garage with confidence and the sense of a job well done. I couldn’t ask for a better traveling companion.
I began here on October 4th and stopped to complete the circle before heading to Dallas.
Mom used to go away on trips with Dad and invariably walk in their front door, sigh, smile, and say, “There is NO place like home.”
My heart filled with the realization of God’s abundant grace, as I walked in the back door of my most loved house. It pleased Him to give me a lifetime traveling experience. And, it pleased Him to give me this precious log home.
I was off the road (at least until morning when I head to Dallas) but the road will never leave my heart. The memories will fade, but the impact will be permanent.
There will be two more entries, but I want to thank you for being with me as I rode along miles and miles of highway. I think when I pull in the drive at Parkchester, I will have clocked nearly 4000 miles. WOW! Restoration, reflection, refreshing, rejoicing, reminiscing, remembering, repair ----- all those elements combine to give me a joyful way to close the caregiving chapter and look expectantly to what the Lord has prepared for me.
Give thanks unto the Lord for His faithfulness and His loyal love.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Answered Prayer at the Ambush Museum
Louisiana goes on and on and on. Highway 80 exposes the traveler to the reality without the polish of fast food restaurants and tourist attractions. As I drove through towns with tiny shacks, cotton fields, and cedar swamp bayous, I was ashamed to confess my indifference to and ignorance of how most people live. I was also shocked at my uncomfortable sense as I realized I saw very few white women ---- and no new bright blue Cruisers. It seems 80 has been relegated to locals only. Miles of lonely stretches made me grateful I chose not to do this leg at night. For all those who claim we are out of habitable space, I wish they would retrace my steps. There are literally thousands and thousands of square miles of rivers, trees, and fields containing very few people. We are NOT out of land --- we are out of room for shopping malls. Before I break into America the Beautiful I want to tell you about the Ambush Museum.
Making a sharp curve in a small Louisiana town, I caught a sign out of the corner of my eye, “The Bonnie and Clyde Ambush Museum.” By this time, I was thinking about schedule and making it to the log house with blue garage doors before dark. But, I hadn’t met an interesting person today and this had potential. As I walked to the door, I prayed, “Let me say a word for Jesus.”
“Boots” Hinton sat behind the counter with a distinct Western flair. His colorful style, accompanied by a thorough knowledge of Bonnie and Clyde captured my attention. As he began telling me about the museum and related anecdotes about its owner and history, I found that the schedule really didn’t matter at all….I had met my interesting person! “How did you start learning about Bonnie and Clyde,” I asked. He simply pointed to a sign on the wall describing an honor given to two lawmen for their crucial role in the death of these two outlaws. “See that name?” The name was Ted Hinton. “He was my Dad.” I knew this was a great way to wrap up this day. Story after story about his past poured out. When he was born four renowned lawmen were at the hospital and were his Godfathers. “How could I not be a cop with a heritage like that?”
In retirement after his Dad’s death, he started to complete the tasks left on his Dad’s plate --- one of which was the Bonnie and Clyde Museum in the town where they were ambushed and killed.
Museum owner, Ken Holmes, Jr. of Dallas walked in and helped answer my prayer. “They met their death that day, but I don’t know where they went. They were baptized, but they certainly weren’t walking with the Lord.” A conversation about the Lord followed. Isn’t Jesus good?
Making a sharp curve in a small Louisiana town, I caught a sign out of the corner of my eye, “The Bonnie and Clyde Ambush Museum.” By this time, I was thinking about schedule and making it to the log house with blue garage doors before dark. But, I hadn’t met an interesting person today and this had potential. As I walked to the door, I prayed, “Let me say a word for Jesus.”
“Boots” Hinton sat behind the counter with a distinct Western flair. His colorful style, accompanied by a thorough knowledge of Bonnie and Clyde captured my attention. As he began telling me about the museum and related anecdotes about its owner and history, I found that the schedule really didn’t matter at all….I had met my interesting person! “How did you start learning about Bonnie and Clyde,” I asked. He simply pointed to a sign on the wall describing an honor given to two lawmen for their crucial role in the death of these two outlaws. “See that name?” The name was Ted Hinton. “He was my Dad.” I knew this was a great way to wrap up this day. Story after story about his past poured out. When he was born four renowned lawmen were at the hospital and were his Godfathers. “How could I not be a cop with a heritage like that?”
In retirement after his Dad’s death, he started to complete the tasks left on his Dad’s plate --- one of which was the Bonnie and Clyde Museum in the town where they were ambushed and killed.
Museum owner, Ken Holmes, Jr. of Dallas walked in and helped answer my prayer. “They met their death that day, but I don’t know where they went. They were baptized, but they certainly weren’t walking with the Lord.” A conversation about the Lord followed. Isn’t Jesus good?
The Penultimate Day
I was in no hurry to leave Jane’s breakfast table. Her compassionate, lively conversation drew me to Jesus. I pulled out of Jackson, anticipating rain and gloom, but with sunshine in my soul. The gift of hospitality can never be underestimated. I remembered why I so enjoy “putting a roof” over those who come to Dallas or Holly Lake. Such fun!
My trip took me to Vicksburg where I would access US 80, wind through Mississippi, the entire width of Louisiana, and finally into East Texas and back to Holly Lake.
But this was not to be simply the next to last day of the trip --- this was to be filled to the brim with the essence of the road trip – people and memories.
A decision to devote two hours to the Vicksburg National Military Park was a great one. If you haven’t stopped to share the experience of the Civil War battleground, please do. Buy the CD and move slowly along the 16 mile path, listening to the historical account of such brutal tragedy. Each time I stepped out of the Cruiser to walk, I felt the sacredness of this ground. When the kids were little we took them to Gettysburg. The same emotions arose. Strangely, I found myself identifying with the South even though raised in the North and schooled from a Union perspective. The horror of war becomes so clear. You see the trenches, the remains of dirt fortresses, and the solemn tributes to men who died there.
As I crossed the Mississippi River, I remembered back weeks ago when I moved from Minnesota to Wisconsin across that same giant “Father of all waters.” Being naturally a tad cheesey, I began to sing to the Cruiser, “Old man river, that old man river ---- he just keeps rolling along.” That was not only true of the great Mississippi, but it was true of Brenda and the Cruiser. We were approaching 3500 miles on this journey. Much praise rang out to Christian music during this day. It was time for reflection and rejoicing.
But the day wasn’t quite finished…..stay tuned.
My trip took me to Vicksburg where I would access US 80, wind through Mississippi, the entire width of Louisiana, and finally into East Texas and back to Holly Lake.
But this was not to be simply the next to last day of the trip --- this was to be filled to the brim with the essence of the road trip – people and memories.
A decision to devote two hours to the Vicksburg National Military Park was a great one. If you haven’t stopped to share the experience of the Civil War battleground, please do. Buy the CD and move slowly along the 16 mile path, listening to the historical account of such brutal tragedy. Each time I stepped out of the Cruiser to walk, I felt the sacredness of this ground. When the kids were little we took them to Gettysburg. The same emotions arose. Strangely, I found myself identifying with the South even though raised in the North and schooled from a Union perspective. The horror of war becomes so clear. You see the trenches, the remains of dirt fortresses, and the solemn tributes to men who died there.
As I crossed the Mississippi River, I remembered back weeks ago when I moved from Minnesota to Wisconsin across that same giant “Father of all waters.” Being naturally a tad cheesey, I began to sing to the Cruiser, “Old man river, that old man river ---- he just keeps rolling along.” That was not only true of the great Mississippi, but it was true of Brenda and the Cruiser. We were approaching 3500 miles on this journey. Much praise rang out to Christian music during this day. It was time for reflection and rejoicing.
But the day wasn’t quite finished…..stay tuned.
Soul Rest
First Presbyterian Church in Jackson, MS poured refreshing and refilling into my spirit. The music, the teaching, the worshipful atmosphere, and the presence of the Holy Spirit engulfed me. Ralph and Jane Lord, longtime friends of Mom and Dad, graciously invited me into their lovely home and into their evening church service. It was a very appropriate and delightful way to end the trip on the Trace. After church, Jane served a Southern Sunday supper in the dining room ----the warmth and beauty of the surroundings nourished me, as did the food.
How did Fred stretch you? My question to Ralph opened up a conversation about the lay movement in America, the influence of the Layman’s Leadership Institute in years passed, and the happy memories of Christian meetings. Blest Be The Tie That Binds is accurate and true. These people welcomed me into their home and their lives with joy and grace.
How did Fred stretch you? My question to Ralph opened up a conversation about the lay movement in America, the influence of the Layman’s Leadership Institute in years passed, and the happy memories of Christian meetings. Blest Be The Tie That Binds is accurate and true. These people welcomed me into their home and their lives with joy and grace.
Serendipity in Mississippi
The Natchez Trace map contained a designation for the Mississippi Crafts Center. Loving the Craft centers on the Blue Ridge Parkway, I planned a quick stop before heading to the home of Ralph and Jane Lord. The ultra-modern concrete and glass building looked unoccupied. Sadly, I turned around and headed out, convinced it was closed. A man appeared in front, told me the place was indeed open, and I returned to the parking lot. Signage may be beneath their cultural sensibilities, but it would definitely drive more traffic.
A man walked up and we started a conversation which continued throughout the tour of the gallery. Dick was a former Chicagoan and proudly boasted of retaining his Al Capone accent. As we perused, he asked what I was doing in Jackson. I told him about the road trip. Sure enough, “Are you doing this all alone? Why? What do you do in Dallas?”
At one point he stopped and said, “If you were in Dallas and one of your friends walked up to you, what would they call you?” Now THAT is the most unusual way anyone has ever asked my name.
He told me part of his story including the part where his former wife lives in Palm Beach, Florida, with his money. His weather-beaten, aged car made me think there may be more to that story. He told me he married a younger woman who is full Choctaw. Interesting change!
During our chat I found out Dick is definitely NOT a Republican, NOT a fan of “W,” and not even a particularly strong fan of Texas (how can that be?) And, the answer to all of our water problems is desalinization. Ironically, on NPR the next day was a discussion of that process – hope Dick tuned in.
I gave him a copy of Breakfast with Fred, took his picture, and wished him well ,then remembered I had no idea how to head toward my next stop.
“How do I get to I-55?“ “Just follow me --- I will lead you.” After the longest, most circuitous journey through much of Jackson, he waved and off he went, having delivered me safely to the interstate for my quick trip down a few exits to the Lords’ house.
Hopefully, something in the book will trigger a thirst. The salty sea cannot possibly compare to the saltiness of God’s word. One more photo in the picture album, one more person on the prayer list. Thank you , Jesus, for giving me the privilege of meeting him.
A man walked up and we started a conversation which continued throughout the tour of the gallery. Dick was a former Chicagoan and proudly boasted of retaining his Al Capone accent. As we perused, he asked what I was doing in Jackson. I told him about the road trip. Sure enough, “Are you doing this all alone? Why? What do you do in Dallas?”
At one point he stopped and said, “If you were in Dallas and one of your friends walked up to you, what would they call you?” Now THAT is the most unusual way anyone has ever asked my name.
He told me part of his story including the part where his former wife lives in Palm Beach, Florida, with his money. His weather-beaten, aged car made me think there may be more to that story. He told me he married a younger woman who is full Choctaw. Interesting change!
During our chat I found out Dick is definitely NOT a Republican, NOT a fan of “W,” and not even a particularly strong fan of Texas (how can that be?) And, the answer to all of our water problems is desalinization. Ironically, on NPR the next day was a discussion of that process – hope Dick tuned in.
I gave him a copy of Breakfast with Fred, took his picture, and wished him well ,then remembered I had no idea how to head toward my next stop.
“How do I get to I-55?“ “Just follow me --- I will lead you.” After the longest, most circuitous journey through much of Jackson, he waved and off he went, having delivered me safely to the interstate for my quick trip down a few exits to the Lords’ house.
Hopefully, something in the book will trigger a thirst. The salty sea cannot possibly compare to the saltiness of God’s word. One more photo in the picture album, one more person on the prayer list. Thank you , Jesus, for giving me the privilege of meeting him.
Friendship Touches
“Are you going through French Camp,” asked my friend Johanna. “I have never heard of it, but if I see it, I will stop for you.” Sure enough, it wasn’t hard to fulfill that promise because French Camp sits right on the Trace. It is an old town containing churches, picturesque buildings, and a Christian school. Because it was Sunday, nothing was open….how refreshing. The sunshine, the fall colors, and the sense of history made this stop a moment to reflect….and also thank the Lord for my friend, Johanna.
No Waffling on Encouragement
Sunday started out in the Waffle House, Tupelo, MS. Patricia brought warmth and human interaction to me, a stranger. She definitely seasoned her conversation with grace. As I ate and mused about the day ahead, a well-appointed, leather-attired Harley owner strutted up to Patricia. Each of the women behind the counter tensed. He didn’t look like a Waffle House kinda guy. I am sure they were prepared for a critical comment. He lifted his hand in a thumbs up pose, smiled, and declared: “This is the cleanest Waffle House restroom I have ever seen anywhere…and I have seen a lot of them.” Smiles broke out as they thanked him. “We do our best –it is important to us.”
Funny, as Proverbs says, “a word at the right time – how good it is!” He made their day with his well-spoken praise. It doesn’t take much to strengthen each other. He demonstrated the power of specific encouragement. He didn’t just say, “You have a nice place.” He took the time to point out something that was particularly outstanding. Good job !
Funny, as Proverbs says, “a word at the right time – how good it is!” He made their day with his well-spoken praise. It doesn’t take much to strengthen each other. He demonstrated the power of specific encouragement. He didn’t just say, “You have a nice place.” He took the time to point out something that was particularly outstanding. Good job !
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