From Grand Isle to Grand Marais

After all of our projects we did find time to make a run for the southernmost point in Louisiana, Grand Isle. A curious mixture of oil field technologies and a very unique Mississippi delta wilderness. We camped one night there and were fairly overcome with sand fleas, leaving the next morning. It was beautiful and warm though and our feet did touch the sand.
As I write here, snowed in at the Comfort Inn in Des Moines, I see morning sunshine and news that interstate 35 has opened, allowing us to go home. We'll see some of you soon.

Southern Cuisine

A few comments about the food down in Mississippi and Louisian: The ever-present "Waffle House" was a mainstay for breakfast, where I had my fill of waffles and grits. The waitresses all yell out "good mornin'" and "hey, Baby" when you come in and they advertize as "the World's Leaning Server of Real Hashbrowns." This helped explain the shouts for orders of "hasbrowns scattered, smothered and covered" that I kept hearing (extra brown, with onions, covered with American cheese).

That's me confronting my first serving of boiled crawfish, done in a firey red pepper and salt mixture not unlike Chesapeake blue crabs that I know well. Not much meat in those things, but tasty! Crawfish also appeared at "Dot's Diner" where we had breakfast on the west side of New Orleans and Chris devoured "Creole Julie" which was a hot bisquit smoothered with crawfish in a cream sauce gravey.

The small brown balls are fried okra with hot sauce, again ordered by Chris; interesting but not great. (Yikes, ALOT of fried and salty food down here.) Next you see bright red Louisianna strawberries, first of the season and quite sweet already.

Moving on to my "good news, bad news" tale about SHRIMP. You see Chris holding some huge shrimp we boiled in our camper one night while down on the tip of Grand Isle, Louisiana. And there is Pastor Don Morgan, after cooking boiled shrimp for some 30 volunteers at Back Bay Mission and the rest of us chowing-down. For years, Back Bay has sent their shrimp boilers out all over the country to bring boiled shrimp to churches and tell the story of the Mission's empowerment projects among the poor people of Gulf Coast. First Congregational UCC in Grand Marais has had "shrimp boils" during Fishermen's Picnic in August to raise money for Back Bay for years. Unfortunately, since Katrina destroyed most of the Biloxi fishing boats, Back Bay has had to discontinue this practice.

Just before we left Louisianna, I discovered an itchy rash on my wrists and ankles. At first we thought it was bug bites from Grand Isle, but as it got worse I realized it just might be too much shellfish! As I counted the number of days I had eaten shrimp, I realized I had gone 5 days straight consuming the little critters in one form or another (fried, boiled, with garlic over pasta, in gumbo). Whoops! Good thing we moved up into Arkansas and Missouri where we could start eating BARBEQUE!
-Anne

"Tab is in the house!"

A few more reflections on Wednesday night worship at Tabernacle Missionary Baptist Church in D'Iberville, Mississippi (near Biloxi): The first photo is of their Senior Pastor, Dr. Kenneth Davis and Pastor Natalie Shiras (UCC church in MA), shortly following the service. "Tab" was descimated by the Katrina storm surge and the congregation has just now moved into their newly refurbished sanctuary and office buildings. We joined them on the third night of their annual revival, featuring guest preacher Dr. Joel Taylor from Chicago, who was a dynamic and challenging speaker in true "black preaching" style. I had expected a fundatmentalist type theological message, but was intrigued to hear a powerful and progressive interpretation of the Gospel message inviting us to consider the role of both failure and success in our lives as followers of Jesus.

In the middle of the service, Pastor Davis excitedly commented on the high energy and joy in the worship service by exclaiming "Tab is in the HOUSE!" Much hooting and clapping, "Amen, Brother" and "praise God" followed this comment, and I marveled at the conversation that went on between congregation and preachers through the whole service. The preacher invites the response of the people throughout the sermon, and the people reply with gusto. All of us in our visiting group of volunteers are from white, United Church of Christ churches of Congregational tradition (both reserved Scandinavian and New England types), where our preaching is typically more "heady" and restrained, and the congregation sits in polite silence! In the African American churches, the preaching "event" is more of an attentive and lively dialogue between the preacher and congregation. I find this focus on "experiencing" God's power in worship, instead of just "thinking about" God, to be very compelling.

The other photo is of Chris, Pastor Don Morgan and Dave (from Lenox, MA) as they practiced in our volunteer's trailer at Back Bay Mission right before the service. Don and Dave did a great duet on the "He's an On-Time God" number while Chris backed us all up on the piano. I too felt hestitant to share what seemed to be our meager musical offering. Yet, as we began to sing, I could hear the choir stand up behind us and start singing and watched as the congregation stood up and sang, and all of a sudden I was singing in "surround sound."

Near the end of the service, Natalie presented the Pastor with a stack of 3x5 cards, upon which her UCC congregation in Lenox had written prayers for people who had suffered through Hurricane Katrina. The Pastor inivited all those who had most their homes in the storm surge to come forward to receive one of the prayer cards, and he began reading them as he handed them out. We were moved to tears as we heard the simple words of hope and encouragement written by Natalie's congregation. She had brought 40 cards and 39 people came forward, leaving one left for the Pastor who himself had lost his home. He had apparently spent the first 5 days after the storm, before Red Cross or other aide arrived, traveling with water and gasoline to homes of his elderly and stranded parishioners.

I was deeply moved by the service, by people's ability to experience joy even as they still move through horrendous times, and by their conviction that the storm was an opportunity for a deeper connection with God. -Anne

Blizzard Warnings in Iowa

Headed home to Grand Marais at this point. So much for the warm southern weather! We drove only two hours this morning, across the Missouri border into Iowa, plowing through slushy rain and hail, and finally pulled off the road near Des Moines while listening to dire storm warnings. We turned into the nearest motel (at 9:45 am ??), then slid over to an adjoining restaurant only to eat ourselves into a coma at the breakfast buffet. Here is our conversation: Chris: "Don't talk to me." Anne: "Don't talk to ME." Chris: "I said it first." Anne: "Yeah, but I THOUGHT it first." We glare at each other, then collapse into laughter. What a morning....

Back at the motel, we are now watching TV news of interstate 80 from the west being closed and the road north to Minnesota is a mess. I'm thinking we should have made a run-for-it to be in Minneapolis with our friends Deb and Erik Strand by tonight. Chris, more familiar with these midwest storms, knows we made the more prudent decision. Wondering if I will be leading worship at Silver Bay on Sunday, I reluctantly decide this would be a good time to write my sermon. So much for my chance to watch day-time TV! -Anne