Where Are You?

I do not remember ever being lost, physically I mean.  There were several times I did not know where I was.  Heck, one time after working mid-nights, I couldn't remember who I was.  Now, that was scary, but that is for another article.

I remember the eerie feeling of not knowing where I was, even though I could see the lights at my house and those of my grandmother and aunts’ houses.  Here’s how it happened.  My good friend Tony, his dad, and his brother wanted to go “coon huntin’” in the woods behind my house.  It is ideal coon huntin’ woods with swampy conditions and Possum branch as the main tributary.  Sure enough, we weren’t in the woods no time when the dogs treed a coon.  The problem was we never saw one, even though the coon “dawgs” were barking, howling, and carrying on something fierce.  That’s part of  the lure of coon hunting, or so I was told.

I remember walking around the tree and looking in the top at the same time.  I realized later that that is a sure fire no no.  After a keen search for a coon by my experienced friends, they decided to go down the branch.  A bass pond lay at the mouth of Possum branch and I started what I thought was down the branch, away from the pond.  One of my friends said that he wanted to go down the branch, not to the pond.

Well, the “dawg gonest” thing happened.  Yeah, I know that this is not standard American English, but I’m trying to recall it like it wuz, I mean was.  Possum branch was running the wrong way.  Somehow, in the looking up and walking around the tree, I crossed the branch.  I was turned around, and for a moment, I thought I had entered a spectrum of time known as The Twilight Zone.  I never let on to my friends.  You know all the ridicule and such I would have received if they knew that I was turned around in my own backyard!  It was so weird, hard to explain.  I knew I was not lost, I knew where I was, only turned around.

A person being turned around was nothing new to the community of Bessie, the community I call home.  My place is called Sugar Ridge, which is in Bessie, which is part of the area called Mars Hill.  No, Paul did not preach there.  Mars Hill is across the railroad tracks from Jemison which is sorta, that is Chiltonian for sort of, like being from the wrong side of the tracks and having no signs to tell you where you are. 

I grew up knowing where I lived without the help of signs.  We did have Land Mart, not a landmark even though it was a Land Mart and was a landmark, which is a store in Bessie where two highways cross.  People were constantly asking, “Which way to Jemison, which way to Maplesville, Thorsby, Randolph, or Montevallo?”  Some would even ask, “Where are we?”

That brings me to the inspiration of this article.  Enroute home from Betsy Layne, Kentucky after a wonderful time with Baptist Builders, some friends and I searched for a place to eat.  We departed the motel after a delicious breakfast of bagels and cream cheese.  It was to hold us until we could get a real breakfast.

We descended from the wonderful cool and pleasant mountains of Kentucky to the hot and humid hills and post oak of Linden, Alabama. 

Down the mountains of Kentucky and through Virginia, we looked for a Krystals.  There were none. My companions reminded me they were hungry but there were no Krystals.  One lady companion finally said, “I need to eat!” We suggested a Ruby Tuesdays.  Being we were using a high-tech gadget called a GPS, I asked the nice lady in the GPS, you know the one always telling you, “When possible please make a U-turn” to find one.  If you ignore her long enough, she will change her directions to where you wanted to go anyway because you got there without signs for years.

The nice lady directed us off the Interstate and to a strip mall with a Wal Mart and several restaurants, one being a Ruby Tuesdays.  Across the highway was a college. A hostess greeted us, took us to a table, gave us a menu, and said someone would take our order.  A young man appeared at out table, told us his name, took our order for drinks, and went to get them.  One of my friends noticed a woman who appeared to be logging in orders from customers.  She asked her, “Where are we?”

The woman had a bewildered look and said real plain and slowly, “R U B Y  T U E S D A YS.”

I belly laughed, my companions chuckled, and the lady snickered, trying to hide it with her hands.

My friend was not specific with her question, so she said, “I mean, what town are we in?”

We were in Morristown, Tennessee the home of Davy Crockett.  You know Davy Crockett went to Washington to serve in Congress and to Alamo in San Antonio, Texas without signs. 

We had a good laugh, good food, and a good mission trip.  The sad thing is most people do not know where they are in life’s journey.  This time I mean spiritually.  Take old Adam for instance.  When Eve and he disobeyed, God asked Adam where he was.  Now remember, God knew where Adam was.  God was trying to see if Adam knew where he himself was.

And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou? (Genesis 3:9 KJV)

Where are you in life’s journey?

We knew where we were, but we did not know where was.