Just Go

You know how writers get “writer’s block” sometimes when they can’t think of anything to write about? I had a hard time coming up with anything interesting to say this week. I thought about writing about the fact that I inherited two mink coats from my mother-in-law but can’t wear either one no matter how cold it is because my daughters say it’s politically incorrect. Then I thought about writing a comparative analysis of Hillary Clinton vs. Barack Obama that pointed out the edge in any political race will go to the candidate with the better hair. While he doesn’t have much, at least it always looks the same, an advantage Hillary doesn’t have. Plus men have pockets. I’ve always thought men held an advantage simply because they have pockets.

But neither one of those subjects seemed very exciting to write about. So I decided to go back to Pearlington, Mississippi.

The idea sneaked up on me. I’ve been telling people for a long time to “just go.” After our last trip to Pearlington I told Beaven that these mission trips are such good physical exercise we needed to find a way to keep it up after we leave. Then I found a blog written by a guy named Canada Jon who does a lot of work in Pearlington. He wrote about the power of just one person to make a difference. I noticed my calendar is empty for the next couple of months. This alone is an incredibly rare situation worthy of note. It was all kind of like a sign from God or something. So I decided to “just go.” I’m leaving tomorrow morning.

Pearlington has a goal to have the town up and running by the 2nd anniversary of the storm. The town is small enough that I think they could do it. And the town is poor enough that it can only be done with volunteer labor. I’d like to be part of that effort.

Once I started thinking about just going by myself, I remembered what Ila Hitt said when somebody ask her why she went on one of these trips to help with the hurricane recovery. She said, “I have the time, the money and the energy to go. It would be a shame, no—it would be a sin, not to go.” I couldn’t get that phrase out of my mind.

Beaven has got to be the world’s most understanding husband. Or maybe he just wants the TV to himself for a while. At any rate, he’s encouraged me to just go ahead and go. He told me that he would hold down the fort; make sure our granddaughters stay spoiled and keep our dogs and cats happy.

The whole trip is something I’ve never done before. I’ve never driven ten hours alone. I am notorious for my bad sense of direction. I could conceivably end up at the Grand Canyon. I’ve never been away from home and alone at the same time. I’ve gone plenty of exotic places but always with someone I know.

I have no idea how long I will stay. I might last only a week and get homesick. I reserve the right to run back home with my head held high, knowing I found my limits. I also might stay a couple of months. I do have some idea of where I’ll stay but that’s about all I know for sure. I don’t know what I’ll be doing. I could be hanging drywall or painting or building another deck.

To me, these unknowns are part of the adventure that faith takes you on. I leave those details in God’s hands and trust that everything will work out. I am open to what God wants to use me for and for whatever God wants to show me. I hope I’ll be able to see clearly enough to write about it when I get home in a way that will touch people and help them understand things better.

In the meantime, somebody please remind Beaven to water the plants. Also, he bought a new computer and it was delivered today. If he calls anyone in a couple of days and asks if you’ve seen me, remind him where I am.