Monday, February 27, 2017
Like Coming Home
Yeah, I've said it before: I kinda love Mississippi. A lot of folks from "away" don't get that but the people who make up those tourist slogans seem to--I always like the one that says, "Mississippi, it's like Coming Home." Yeah, you're right, sure enough is.
And I was thinking about that while I was standing outside the local grocery store this morning. An elderly lady and I were talking for half an hour or so--about Jesus, about life in general, and about various incidents in particular. She told me about how she stopped a man from killing his wife; I told her about the man who bullied me so dreadfully at the pawn shop. Have I ever met her before? No. But when we parted, she said, "Honey, I hope to see you again." And I said, "I look forward to that--if not here, then surely in heaven."
She said something else, too, in the middle of the conversation. She said that I was beautiful. I was surprised, and I said, "Oh thank you, ma'am, but truly I don't think so." Later, she said it again. Maybe I needed to hear that this morning. I believe, after all, that God sends people to meet us right when we need them. Honestly, I sometimes fret about things my mother often said--unkind, hurtful things that I don't need to repeat. Doesn't matter how old you get, I guess you need somebody's mama to tell you you're pretty. My mother didn't.
I was actually feeling particularly moth-eaten this morning. I had just washed my hair so the humidity had turned it into a giant Irish mane of fluff. I had been pet-sitting and was wearing a dark blue hooded sweatshirt that showed ever furry little cat hair. Broken shoes. Ratty old jeans. I hadn't planned on going to the grocery at all but I need to bake bread, so I made a split second decision to go spend my last $20 for milk, butter, and eggs for breadmaking.
Maybe God knew that I just really needed to meet Minnie outside the store by the cart rack. She's black; I'm white. But I know real family when I meet them. I kinda love Mississippi. It's like coming home.
Life is good.
.....the azaleas in the wood at the corner of my neighbor's acreage this morning: