You might notice that I did not write last week. I was not suffering from “writers block”, but rather just the opposite. I had too many things to chose from, so I chose none.
We took off two weeks ago from California. In one day we went from Los Angels to Las Cruces, New Mexico. We managed to put a big crack in my almost new windshield out in the middle of Arizona. The next morning in the breakfast lobby of the Super 8 we were met with a bus load of migrants who were being moved from El Paso to all sorts of places where work awaited them. The reality of the world we live in was no longer a news story, but a truth that was in my midst. In my best “Spanglish” I greeted the kids who chose to give me eye contact. My heart melted. I am still processing what I experienced as we shared our fresh strawberries with a mom and her two kids.
Next it was Stephenville, Texas where we were treated by our grandson Mattias’ Spring Duke Ellington Jazz concert at Tarleton State University. I am not sure it gets any better in Grandpa Mark Land. They hit it out of the park.
From there it was New Orleans—say no more. It did not disappoint. The architecture, history, food, music and the WWII museum has no peer.
We were then blessed to head to M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I and the “High Hope Farm” of Deb and Johnny Wray. Hospitality is their essence. Johnny was for 17 years the President of Week Of Compassion ministry. In his his words “I have seen a lot of stuff”. From Bosnia and Darfur to Katrina and 100’s of other points of need—Johnny was there. Every meal shared in a simple prayer whose end was “Georgia (the country) Ukraine and Zimbabwe”. We began our three days there in Starkville at a Mississippi State baseball game. If you want to know what money has provided for big time college athletics, we found out. However, for all the first class glitz, the hospitality was the best part.
Next we headed to Decatur, Alabama where my cousin Johnny and Sue Ann have been transplanted. For three days joy and a lifetime of Pumphrey stories filled the air. Somehow Johnny went from silk screening T-Shirts and painting to building rocket plants. Their warmth and humor filled my soul.
And now I am in Villa Rica, Georgia listening to Ray Charles as I take in the beauty of the Georgia woods and lakesides. I just finished the Ray Charles/Willy Nelson duet of “Seven Spanish Angels” all is well.
If you have not ever been to a “Buc-ee’s” try it just once. Who knew that you could have shopping carts at a gas station. There are really no words to describe what has happened to “Convenience Stores”. Their Men’s Room is bigger than a 7/11, maybe two—complete with more urinals than MILE HIGH STADIUM. You can choose from an assortment of the most unhealthy foods ever thought up (Beaver Nuggets). They do have a mighty fine veggie burrito.
Ray is singing “America” right this moment and with that I will say I still absolutely love this country.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 