Back Home Again

When I was young, my parents hardly ever left the state of Indiana. On those rare occasions when we traveled across state lines, we always celebrated our return. My father’s rich baritone voice would lead us in singing “Back Home Again in Indiana.” It became a tradition for us. As the sign for Indiana came into view, we knew what to do.

Sixty years later, I still sing that song when I drive into Indiana.

Arizona doesn’t have a song like that, but it sure is nice to be home again. After traveling for twelve weeks and crossing 23 state lines, we finally arrived in Tucson the last day of August. Loreen and I unloaded the trailer in 24 hours and then collapsed. For the time being, we would rather not go anyplace or do anything.

The drive from Pennsylvania to Arizona consumed twelve days because we stopped four times. The first was a pause in Winona Lake, Indiana to visit my mother and do more work for the Association of Grace Brethren Ministers. The second was a “pit stop” at Middlebury, Indiana for maintenance on the trailer. The third was a visit to our friends in Arkansas, David and Cindy Frederick.

Dave and Cindy live in Lititz, Pennsylvania, but they were “home” in Arkansas for a couple of weeks. Dave talked so much about the family farm in Tollville that I had to see it for myself. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t fibbing. He wasn’t. It really is a rice farm, and it really is in the middle of nowhere.

Loreen called David on his cell phone when we arrived at their back door. When he and Cindy came out, they gave both gave us big hugs. Unfortunately, the commotion bothered a nest of bees nearby, and they attacked Cindy and me just as we embraced. Needless to say, it made for a short hug. It also made for a trip to the store where David purchased a weapon in a can. The bees no longer have a home. They should have left us alone.

Albuquerque was our fourth and final stop. We wanted to see the Native New Life Church where Arnold Betony is Pastor. We had a great lunch with Arnold and his wife Bessie. We also visited their home and met several of their children. Before leaving town, we squeezed in a visit to Andy Moyer’s home as well. Andy is the Associate Pastor of Native New Life.

Homes are precious to us. As I write this article, I am reminded that today is September 11. Five years ago, Islamic radicals attacked America. Like the bees in Arkansas, they should have left us alone. Americans are now aroused, because people are precious to us. We dedicate ourselves to loving and protecting them against all odds.

Home, sweet home.