On the Road Again!

Today we head north and, God willing, will converge, along with our dear New Yorkers and Michiganians, at The House in Michigan. Emily, the hostess will find food and corners for most of the 14 of us. Grace and peace be upon you, precious Emily!

The plan is to crash there FOR A WEEK! and to have a Sunday barbeque with cousins we have not seen in ages. The big brothers-in-law from New York will get acquainted with their new little brothers from Ukraine and re-acquainted with their little brother Rob who has shot up about six amazing inches since they saw him last.

I am praying and believing for God's Presence in the car, and for Mimi back here in Mississippi, as she works at her nanny job and prepares for Sri Lanka. ("Let our house be filled with Your glory, Lord!") I am believing for His presence at the big house in Rochester, and the subsequent week of Bible and Missionary Camp in Muskegon with Em and Chad and little Mia. And for safe traveling for all, including our sweet, Estonian English teacher and husband who will join us there on the beach for the conference.

I agree with Moses who once said, "Lord, I don't want to go up, if your Presence doesn't go with us." His answer is always the same, "I will NEVER leave you or forsake you. I will be with you and prosper you withersoever thou goest."

Oddly, God enjoys our company. He is jealous for His times with us. So, we welcome Him most gladly, of course. After all, He is our very life and breath, and it's just no fun without Him.

P.S.
Scott and Carol, we may stop by to meet you in person on our way south July 2, if you like! We are so excited for your pending trip to Ukraine for your precious 13 year old girl, and so very happy for those several families that have their kids already, or are currently traveling "home rejoicing, bringing in their sheaves." What joys are ahead for them!

Michelle, write me about your adventures!! I will check my email. rhalpert@bellsouth,net.

Love to everyone.

ADOPT UKRAINE!! The kids are waiting.

Mississippi Boys

All that was missing today was the overalls and bare feet, and I won't hear of exposed toes, what with snakes in the grass. But still, summer has come to Mississippi.

This afternoon a little black man from down our country road, wearing bluejeans, a wide grin and greying hair, paused to catch his breath in front of our house. "When I was a boy," he told Peter and James, "I done fished in that pond yonder, where them bulldozers has cleared."

The boys had to know, "Mom, can we go fishing there?" Mr. Jimmy-OK, which is what we call him, because his sentences are punctuated by 'OK', laughed, his white teeth shining. He picked up his tin can of night crawlers, which he had set on the road, adjusted his cap to shade his eyes from the blazing sun. Then still laughing, he ambled off with his fishing line dangling from a small cooler which he swung at his side. He was going after whatever catfish might be left in "that pond yonder."

Jimmy OK lives just down the road a piece, past us seven white families, in a small community of black folks, These friendly, for-real Mississippians, have been tucked in the woods off a little dirt road called Dock Lane, for generations. Tucked away, that is, like our street, until recently.

They, and we, have now been discovered by the world. Recently, overnight, the woods opposite us was ripped away and our road exposed to the sizzling hot summer sun. The couple hundred acres of woods was sold to a big developer, who engaged in the not-so-gentle art of strip mining in preparation for his big residential and commercial ventures.

But, in the meantime, Mr. Jimmy OK and our boys wanted to catch a fish in the now visible pond. So James fetched a line with a hook like Jimmy's, and Peter ran for his rod. Both boys grabbed a slice of bread for bait, and I grabbed hats for all three of us, a bottle of water and some cool pears from the fridge.

It was in the nineties, and we darted from shade tree to shade tree, reminding me of my first day in Mississippi. Then it was August and I had gone for a walk. You don't go for a walk in August in Missisippi! But neither should you dilly-dally too long in June.

We crossed the barrens of dried mud, following the tracks of the bulldozers, who were taking the day off, and soon the boys called, "I see Mr. Jimmy," and broke into a run. We joined him at the water's edge, where he opened his cooler to show us a small catfish. He would use it to raise more in an old freezer he has at home. A couple years ago he raised turtles and sold 'em to folks who'd come by, fer soup.

We four stood and chatted and fished awhile. Peter hooked a big turtle that got away, and when a water snake stuck its tongue out at James, Jimmy told how as a boy he'd catch them and remove the poison. "Ah don't do dat no more," he smiled. I thought that was a good idea, and encouraged James not to as well. That his big brown wolf spider sucking the juice out of a bug in the jar back home was enough critters for one day.

We trecked back to the road again and meandered as far as our driveway, where we rested with Jimmy. I went for our car, and with Peter peddling his bike as fast as he could behind us, we drove Mr. Jimmy back to Dock Lane to his trailer. Unfortunately when he got out, Skipper escaped the car to make friends with the three or four dogs tied under a tree nearby. With Jimmy's help we caught him and pushed him back into the car.

We waved to Mr. Jimmy and his wife and headed back home. Peter raced on his bike, James chose to walk and and would stagger in in ten minutes, flopping on the grass under our tree. Skip and I were left alone in the car to contemplate Jimmy's words. "Everythin's changin'. T'only thing not changin' in this world is Jesus. He's the same."

It would be a pretty scary world if that weren't the case. But it is, Praise His Name.