Pilgrimages are about going home, aren’t they? Time to go home, I guess…
Homecomings aren’t new to me. Since birth, I’ve lived in Knoxville, TN; San Antonio, TX; Beavercreek, OH; Forest, MS; Columbus, MS; Petal, MS; Huntsville, AL; Greenville, MS; and back to Huntsville. [This counts the moves in which I changed where I slept for more than, say, five days. Living in Petal was with my brother, Doug, and living in Greenville, MS was solely with my parents for a summer between my first and second years at UAH.] Heck, I’ve moved three times in Huntsville alone, and I’m about to embark on a fourth. So yeah, going back is just something I do.

I’m going to Mississippi Sunday. From looking above, you can see that I’ve called four cities in that state home. [Before you laugh, anything over 500 is a city in Mississippi; all of those count, two of them barely. -grin-] I’ll see a variety of folks while I’m there: Paul, who is in many ways my mentor, although my calling that probably scares the snot out of him; David, another mentor and a guy I look up to as a someone I’d like to be when I’m his age; Earle, a man who simply loves life and all the people around him, no matter whether they love him back; Erik, who I went to MSMS with and who fortuitously works two blocks from the church I’ll be at during lunchtimes and evenings; and hopefully Seth, who I haven’t yet told I’m coming to town but have ways of finding him.

Most of all, I’m going back to the scene of the crime, as it were. Kat was asking me this week about where I was going, and I sent her the URL, which I’ve now typed so many times I can do it from memory. [Scary, no?] I don’t know why I keep going back, but I do. I’ve been five of the last six summers, and this year will make it six of seven. [All ST fans are now going, "skip one of the next two summers so you can make it Seven of Nine." Har-dee-har.]

How’s this going to affect me? DangifIknow. Last year’s trip was an affirmation that, yeah, I’m cut out for church stuff and not enginering stuff. [Yeah, yeah, and it took me a year to reach out to my church on that score. Thanks for reminding me. I never said I wasn't a slacker, although I'm improving!] Heck, I do this engineering stuff decently well, but man, I’m always ready to leave at the end of the day. When I study the Word or some theology, I often find myself staying up much later than I normally would. [This explains this morning, when I was completely confused because of same and wondering whether it was Friday or Saturday, despite the fact that my alarm clock was blaring the local morning sports talk show, which only airs on weekdays...] I am literally fascinated by this stuff, and I haven’t been this excited to study anything since, oh, I lived in Ohio and attended decent schools.

They say you can’t go home again. Heck, I’ve got a song about that somewhere on the floor of my bedroom; I know, because I saw it the other day. =) I don’t know if I’m continuing to try to get back something I once had or what. I know last year I sat silently in Galloway’s sanctuary, waiting for affirmations of words I’d heard three years prior. I never heard those words, and let me tell you, I was frustrated.

But then there’s that thought; God exists outside of time, and time’s irrelevant to God. It really and truly doesn’t matter to God, because of how the way the universe works [from my angle]. Why then are anniversaries and such important? The only thing this anniversary says to me is, “Okay, Morris, you’ve been slacking off for how long? Get to work.” But then that’s not negative, although the accusatory tone certainly is.

I do feel a longing to return. I’ve looked forward to next week for about five months now, and I can almost taste the trip. I’m so ready to go, I can’t stand it. I’m even ignoring my friends tonight to pack and prepare.

But the one thing that needs the most preparation is my heart. [The second is my truck: oil changed, tires rotated and balanced, maybe even an alignment.] I recognize the preparation that I need for this week. I get the feeling this week is going to take more from me than any other has, and all I can hope is that I can take things from this week to fill the hole left behind from all the me I plan on losing while I’m there.

I cannot guarantee that I’ll be a changed person when I get back, but I can guarantee that I’ll try to be.

You can go home again, but you can’t go back to the way you were. If you feel so led, talk about your own homecomings below.