Mississippi Musings

Well at long last, I return to my blog. I haven't taken any breaks from this site since I started it nearly two years ago, but my computer access last week was primarily for e-mail corespondence and not for blogging.

Some of you who read my blog regularly may wonder how a guy from Queens could spend three years of his life in a place like Mississippi, a state than when compared with New York City bears very few similarities. It may surprise you to hear that I was warmly embraced in the Magnolia State, particularly in small towns. Go figure.

The opening picture here is not the typical Mississippi landscape (swamp land is primarily along the Gulf Coast and is most pronounced in Lousianna actually), though this cedar swamp along the Natchez Trace just south of Forest Grove, MS is actually rather serene.

My visit brought me to the northern part of the state where I was welcomed by dear friends in Water Valley, MS. I proceeded toward the center of Mississippi with a desert reception in Morton, MS (the church there is surrounded on all sides by farmland). Meridian, MS to the east had a big dinner for me, which was understood, because it was the biggest church I visited. I ended my trip casually in Leakesville to the south who sent me off with a nice big southern-style breakfast.

My center of operations for most of the week was Clinton, MS, just outside of Jackson and near where I went to seminary. I stayed with my dear friend Al Ward (pictured here) and his family there. They were most encouraging and gracious hosts and I am humbled by their hospitality.

It was also a social trip full of opportunities to reconnect with friends I made over the three years I spent in Jackson. In the last picture, I'm the one in the middle, flanked by Neill (green shirt) and Tony (blue shirt). Neill, I've come to believe, is an example of what I might have become if I'd grown up in Laurel, MS (in the Free State of Jones) where he's from (not enough room here to explain). Tony, on the other hand, is not an example of how I might have turned out if I grew up in England like he did. He's a great, godly man who you might mistake for a Mississippian if he never opened his mouth to speak.

All in all, it was a great trip. Next week, my regular blog postings will return.