Dear Friends,
I was awake
at 6 on Wednesday morning, April 6, 2022; I had had a solid six hours of sleep; thank God. I
got up at 6.45 and finished packing. Barbara and I had our devotions and then
Saeed came downstairs and joined us; he also prayed, soon insisting of coming
with me 100 yards to the bus stop carrying my suitcase. He prays so freshly.
Then the bus took me to the Acton tube station and in half an hour I was at
Heathrow. There were no huge crowds of frustrated passengers facing cancelled
flights. Nothing like that at all. It was the same as usual and I speedily went
through Departures. They asked to see the confirmation that had arrived by
Email last night that I was Covid-free. Security was a pain having to unzip and
extract from my packed case my I-pad and my laptop, but having done that I was
ushered through the security arch. I had two hours to wait for the flight
departure to Charlotte, in North Carolina. The plane was totally full. There
was an American old boy sitting next to me, ten years younger than me, but not
very talkative. He had been visiting his daughter who runs a wine shop in
London. She had married a Brit but now they were divorced, but she had remained
in London. There was a film called ‘Pig’ that I had read about and so I watched
it because of my books on Piers Pig (as yet unpublished, if ever . . .). Very odd film. Slow
and confusing; I could not understand the ending. Then I watched the film about
the deaf family that had been chosen as the best film of the year in the
Oscars. Again, it was not too wholesome and I ached for it to finish. The nine-hour
flight was too long to be spent exclusively in reading, but the meal was good,
delicious salad and then cheese and crackers and warm chicken. I was not too
sleepy; too much adrenalin through the anticipation of the next 17 days. I had
a good conversation with a man in the Charlotte queue as we went for 15 minutes
through security crawling along in yet another long departure line, but putting
these inconveniences behind me, with over an hour to wait for the Mississippi
flight to be boarded, I filled the time by beginning this letter.
Tommy
Peaster was waiting for me at Jackson airport. What a lovely sight! He called
Linda, outside with the car, to bring it to the upper exit, and soon we were
driving the 40 minutes to their home in Flora and chatting away as if we had
seen each other just last week. I was not weary and kept awake until 11. Linda
made me some warm cheese sandwiches and vegetable and meat soup and we talked
until I went to my suite. I took a sleeping tablet and it helped. I was awake briefly
at 3 and then at 6 and finally got up at 8.30. Perfect! One has to add six
hours to USA time, and I am rapidly training my body clock to adapt to the
new regimen of Central Time here.
We drove
into Yazoo City for lunch and then went to a funeral service of a beloved old
lady in the church. Up in her 90s she and a companion would visit on Sunday
afternoons old people’s homes to encourage the residents. I met a host of the
sweetest people during the hour before the service renewing friendship with
them as we sat and I talked to this one and that. Then at 3 p.m. the service
began with 60 people in the congregation, the suited elders sat in the front.
We sang Great is Thy faithfulness, and It is well with my soul. The service was
led by Guy Waters, one of the professors of Systematic Theology in Reformed
Seminary (under an hour away) who is often the preacher in the Peasters’ Second Presbyterian church in Yazoo City. He was great, speaking on what difference Jesus makes to our attitude to death and pointing out the answer from John 11 and Jesus’ conversation
with Mary and Martha and the raising of Lazarus. It was simply grand. Then we
drove in a procession led by a police car 25 or so miles to a country graveyard
to the burial. That was brief, no singing and no coffin being lowered into the
ground. Those earthy elements I did miss, but talking to people before and
after that service again was most enriching and we got home by 4.45. We had an
evening indoors and Linda cooked my favourite dish of hers, Crab Gratin. On Friday
Tommy had an appointment to test some hearing aids and I sat and wrote and read
and walked down the slope to the lake passing the tiny humming birds swooping
down on their feeder just outside the window on the veranda. It is still too
cold to enter the swimming pool, but it has been a bright sunny day. They
returned at 1.30 and in the afternoon six old friends joined us including Will
Thompson’s widow and Sonny Peaster and his wife Patsy and Bob Cato and his wife
Marie (in spite of her ill health). I enjoyed their company and conversation
very much especially Sonny who later told Linda it had been the best hours for
him in an age. I gave them a story and lesson that they received well. I have
admired these men for years and what they have done has set a standard for a
local church for me. Jonathan Winch of Newcastle is speaking there this
Sunday.
That night
we went out for catfish and when we got back Tommy and I had a golden hour
together quietly talking about God’s dealings with us over the forty years that
we have known one another. Tommy has three things seriously wrong and yet he is
active and his mind is sharp. He is a great man and it has been one of the
Lord’s blessings that our families have been close for all these years. I cling
to them with my letters, and it had been so rewarding.
So Saturday
morning Linda drove me the 45 minutes to the Jackson airport and I flew to
Dallas just over an hour away. There was Mack Tomlinson waiting for me and after
another 45 minutes riding with him we were in Denton, at his home, meeting his
wife Linda once again. He has preached in Alfred Place Church in Aberystwyth
and they stayed in the Manse. They remember the congregation, and my
sister-in-law Rhiain Lewis and Keith, and also Ifan Mason Davies and Ann. Mack
set out before me what we would do the rest of the day. Then we were eating with
some of the church officers at 5.30.
At 5 we left
for the Greenhouse Restaurant, and there were five couples from the church waiting
for us. I was asked loads of questions about Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones in
particular, and later about John Murray. They enjoyed my memories and laughed at
the appropriate times. What a superb group of men and women they are and I was
preaching for them on this my third visit starting at 9.30 tomorrow. The
temperature here is in the 80s and Mack and I went for a walk in the nearby
park before turning in for the night.
Geoff Thomas
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