There is nothing like the countryside of endless dirt roads and quiet reading and writing shacks….what is up there around the bend…only time and distance will tell.
While we all seem in a hurry rushing down our roads at 80 miles an hour, may Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong……
The Kitchen Sink has always been a good place for me to think. And somedays the kitchen sink of work that needs doing allows for lots of thoughts and stories to percolate.
This morning I served with the local ministerium association. A group of churches here coordinate together to provide support for those in need of assistance with their water and electricity bills. Story after story, was heart breaking to hear. A woman who recently lost her baby at eight months old in pregnancy – a grandmother with medical needs that just got out of 4 weeks in the hospital – a woman who had her left leg amputated due to complications from diabetes. Going over their financial information and learning how little they have to survive on was eye opening. None were here to scam a system. Each were simply trying to figure out how to keep on living. The financial aid we gave – just $75 per person. That’s it. Not enough to cover the bill but a small contribution towards the whole. And each person was so appreciative. Selma touched my heart when she said, “If I had time to tell you my whole story, you wouldn’t believe it, and if you didn’t believe in God before the story, you would afterwards.” I noted when she was sitting there in her interview that she held an envelope on her lap with a few notes, one that read, “faith over your fears by trusting in God’s faithful promise.” She was living the truth of that story.
The afternoon hours were spent working in the bakery with Geneva. She has served as the lead of that work for 25 years. Washing and Separating blueberries, cutting up squash, washing new jars for the soon to be made jelly and jams, cutting and blanching green beans for the freezer, and more pans and dishes before closing time. Ahh, kitchen sink time.
I reflected back on my days in seminary. Back then I was hired by Jeanette to assist her in the kitchen. She had me pick up the pastries at 6 am and get the coffee room ready. Then I would show up and assist the final lunch prep before serving and cleaning up. The special events we hosted were always fun and festive. I loved working with Jeanette and serving up the hospitality with her. When she had to go on medical leave with back surgery, she threw me the keys and put me in charge and said have a lot of fun. A little stress is good for you. The name of the kitchen and dining space: Koinonia. I am thankful I experienced that with faculty, staff, classmates, and community members. It’s amazing what you can soak in and dish out in those spaces together.
I was set right for the day while singing this song at morning devos:
Muckaloochee (the river running through this area of GA and named by the Indian tribe who inhabited this land)
On the other side of the Muckaloochee, there’s a land fair and bright. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, the pecans grow real high. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, they study war no more. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, the Holy Spirit soars.
Muckaloochee like the Jordan, cross into another land.
On the other side of the Muckaloochee, you can get rid of your stuff. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, there will be just enough. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, Christ has come to dwell. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, all shall be well.
Muckaloochee like the Jordan, cross into another land.
On the other side of the Muckaloochee, the womb of God is there. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, Come, have no fear. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, race has lost its hold. On the other side of the Muckaloochee, they do what Christ has told.
Muckaloochee like the Jordan, cross into another land. And all the people said, Rah!
Rah indeed.
After a short and restless night of sleep, for 13.1 miles early this morning, with a mild temp of 79 with 94 percent humidity, I prayed these words over and over…
Franciscan Benediction
May God bless you with discomfort…
Discomfort at easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships,
Discomfort, so that you will live deep within your heart.
May God bless you with anger…
Anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
Anger, so that you will work for justice, freedom, and peace.
May God bless you with tears…
Tears to shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, starvation and war,
Tears, so that you will reach out to comfort them
And turn their pain into joy.
And, may God bless you with foolishness…
Foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
Foolishness, so that you will do what others claim cannot be done.
Amen.
A day practicing mercy in community with the Food Pantry – Fuller Center for Housing – and Koinonia Blueberry Orchard.
To be merciful means to do whatever helping the situation demands, to pay whatever the poor man owes. We like to figure out in advance what we have to give up. What is mercy going to cost us? But true mercy doesn’t ask for limits; it only asks for opportunity. There are no outer limits to discipleship. Mercy is not traditional, not token, not sterile. Mercy is the creative risk of unlimited involvement. Mercy seldom gets off the ground when we approach it from a standpoint of a hypothetical question. It begins when we see our world as a world of neighbors. It culminates when we act toward the person in need as if the person were actually Christ. Christians gotta know, it seems to me, that a hungry man gotta have bread, a thirsty woman gotta have water, a sick man gotta have a doctor, and a woman in jail gotta have somebody to come to them. We gotta go beyond goodness to actually laying down our lives. We don’t want a reshuffling of the cards. We want to start playing with a totally new deck – loving – dying – to a totally new life – because the old cards are marked against the full purposes of God no matter how they are shuffled. We are called to be a people of mercy – and that is what we must be. Jesus became his message. We too must become the message of mercy.
A day of mowing the land. The simple things.
Koinonia
In a world….of despair, a flicker of hope, of missed chances, risks taken, of prejudice, of understanding and patience, of hatred as the norm – love as the response, of fear of others, a belief in one’s neighbor, of alienated individualism, a sense of community, of death and decay, a sense of life in all that we can feel from those around us.
And yet, if we don’t allow this special place to engulf us and to change us, is it then just a fantasy and not reality? But if we believe in this community and accept its belief in our heart, we find: serenity in a world of frustration, security in a world without any, patience in a world where immediate gratification of needs prevail, consensus in a world where the attitude of I’m right, you’re wrong exists, and most importantly of all – friendship, where it did not exist before.
Dear Lord, bless this community, and give us the strength to continue to help others as we simultaneously help ourselves. Amen.
Today was a day of centering around worship and conversation.
We started the day at Maranatha Baptist Church.
Pastor Ashley gave an inspired sermon on truth. She included a quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky, “Above all, do not lie to yourself. The one who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and others. And having no respect, he ceases to love.” Yes may we give up the lies and raise up the truth, no matter how difficult that may be. In good Baptist fashion, we were there 2 hours and in good Plains fashion no one was in a hurry to leave.
Working up an appetite, it was time for another peanut butter ice cream. So good!
Then off to an interesting art site in southern Georgia. It is called Pasaquan. It is on the register for historic places and has won accolades for its uniqueness. This artist led an interesting life story and made his way back home to create this art community. It has touches of cultures and traditions from around the world, most distinctly an Indian vibe. Part of the exhibit was the Quieting World, where in a darkened room you were invited to sit and listen intently to the chorus of creation at sunrise from eight locations of wilderness. The sounds represent the natural world during a fragile moment of balance between light and darkness, hope and despair, renewal and disappearance. With listening to more than the human world it invites communion with the beauty and joy of each new day. I was greatly appreciative of the thoughtfulness of this place of centering. Here are a few images of the place:
A late afternoon lunch at a local diner of catfish and black eyed peas was a must.
And now to quiet the soul with a load of laundry and a short walk to the writing cabin to diving into:
Sunrise to sunset….moments of centering. Thanks be to God.
What can you find when you don’t have to drive directly to or from somewhere? A whole lot!
I started out in the direction of Merritt Pecan Co. How often can you find a pecan company with the same name as your son? A first time for me.
After buying the t-shirt and cap and sweet treats to bring home to the family, the journey continued.
Back roads towards a State Park blessed me with more history finds and a great lunch in Lumpkin. The lunch spot photo might make you laugh.
Churches and cemeteries and memorial plaques dot the hillsides. Note the dates.
Hiking in Providence Canyon State Park was pretty awesome. They name it as the little Grand Canyon of the south, but I think that is a huge overstatement. These canyons were formed due to flash flooding that happened over time due to the tilling of all the farm soil. With no where for the water to go, it kept eroding and washing away and revealing the beautiful rich red color and sediment. A very refreshing 4 mile hike.
Tonight I got to hear the story of Spence Braden (a Grace member) and his brother Keith, as they shared about their mom who served as the director of Koinonia years ago. She gave her life to helping others and did so until she passed away in a flash flood here in GA in the 1990’s. They took time today tending to her gravesite and honoring her memory.
It is very humbling to read and reflect on the passage of time, especially doing so when driving by a cemetery plot every 5 miles or so. Seeing old towns that still exist but do so with 80 percent of buildings closed up or falling down. Churches standing – most well kept and some not so much – but with doors open to keep sharing the story of Jesus over time. Every conversation with folks, all still with their joy and gratitude for the gift of life. All trying to make their way. Getting up, putting their jeans on, and doing what they can with what they got. Another step in the right direction.
What can you get when you go Lumpkin around? Go search and I promise you will find.
Today was a day of receiving grace upon grace.
Early morning community devotions – celebrating Norris’s 72 birthday (long time servant leader at Koinonia) – having the time to get a 10 mile training walk in for the Camino (smokin hot and humid – a million gnats in my face – and buzzards eating armadillos off the highway. And beautiful crops – Red Robins and Blue Birds galore – free time to let the mind wander and receive). A lunch at one long table of 18 community members – fixins of breaded catfish – grits – deviled eggs – strawberry and blueberry whip – chocolate birthday cake – and sweet iced cold tea. Ahhhh – a banquet. Seven hours of prayer – music – and inspirational reading.
Two resources:
An Hour Before Daylight – memories of rural boyhood – by Jimmy Carter. A delightful 250 page read of his family story. It took me back to think deeply about my own childhood stories and all the people and experiences that have shaped my life. At 50 years old, I think much more about those moments now than I have in the past. I hold much gratitude and forward going wrestling moments from those days.
The second read that I started earlier this week and finished today: Sacred Rest by Saundra Dalton Smith. A soulful book that inspired the cup to overflow. I look forward to sharing much with you from this resource in our 2026 worship services on Flourish in Rest.
A few quotes for the day:
Sometimes it’s important to work for the pot of gold. But other times it’s essential to take time off and make sure your most important decision in the day simply consists of choosing which color to slide down the rainbow. Douglas Pagels (and my add…like a child in a park, may you go down the slide many times throughout each day)
Every good and perfect gift is from above. James 1:17
If you try to keep up with a sprinting society on a diet of crumbs, you’re going to end up more than physically exhausted. You’ll be mentally scattered, emotionally chunked, and spiritually smothered. Sounds like a hash brown order at Waffle House but significantly more damaging to your health.
GRACE = God’s Resurrecting power Actively Changing and Empowering my life.
If your spouse has become more like a roommate, passion needs a resurrection in your relationship. If your prayer time has turned into your Facebook time, spiritual discipline needs resurrecting. If your kids feel more like a burden than a blessing, you need a resurrection of gratitude in your attitude. You cannot change something you will not confront, so let’s confront those places that need God’s resurrection power.
Today was a day to be quiet. I planned some of that and some of that found me.
I woke up to thunder and rain. A 100 percent chance all day long. And that is what it did do and it was perfect.
I headed into Plains – about 9 miles from the farm. I toured this hometown of Jimmy Carter throughout the am hours. His boyhood farm a few miles out of town – quiet and serene – and yes I was the only person there. Walking through his boyhood home and staring out into the surrounding fields added to the allure. It called me to sit right down on a rocking chair on the screened in patio and take it in. I then headed back to town to the train depot where he had his campaign headquarters. The decision to open the office there was easy as it was the only place in town with an inside bathroom. I then got my fried peanuts and peanut butter ice cream from a local shop. A few stories were shared with a shop owner of every kind of political material you could imagine. He had more stories than you can shake a stick at. I kept slowly backing away until my heels were at the door when he finished his sentence in order to take a breath. I quickly said Thank You so much and exited before he could jump back in. He would not understand my silent retreat – ha.
Then onto the old High School that has been turned into a museum. Another wonderful setting to soak up the story of this place and the Carter family. Again, I was the only one there. Sitting in the middle of the old school auditorium and watching a documentary film felt a bit nostalgic. So much human good came from their lives.
In President Carter’s words: “My faith demands that I do whatever I can wherever I am, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try and make a difference.” A life of service is the abundant life that we are called to.
I then ventured out to Andersonville. This is the memorial site of the largest POW encampment in American History. Over 45,000 Union soldiers were held there, with over 13,000 dying in this encampment over 14 months during the Civil War. Not only is there a Civil War museum and national cemetery here, they have built a museum to tell the story of all POW’s. Their two video films, their two driving audio tours, and the museum itself left me in stunned silence. Again, I was the only one here. I did not know of this place or of this story until today.
Driving across the highway into the small Civil War Village of Andersonville, where monuments were built to share the story of Confederate generals, kept the heart and soul tensions of all the varied stories of this life in the air.
I was deeply moved by the story of Clara Barton. She was a self-taught nurse who was known as the American Nightingale and the Angel of the Battlefield for her dedicated service during the Civil War. She volunteered her services throughout the war in places including Manassas, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Charleston, Cold Harbor, and Petersburg. After the war, she ran the Office of Missing Soldiers for four years which including spending time in Andersonville. She founded the American Red Cross in 1881 and served as the organization’s president for 23 years.
Her quote: “I have an almost complete disregard of precedent, and a faith in the possibility of something better.”
I am grateful for her living witness amongst us still today.
We live – we learn – and if we are listening – are transformed by the experiences and stories of others.
On the drive there, I also passed the monument that celebrates the first solo flight for Charles Lindbergh. Who knew? Not me. I just showed up in this rural county of southern GA and all of this is available to learn from. Amazing.
It makes me wonder just how much all of this local history impacted and shaped the servant leadership of those raised up from here. Each leader speaking to the hearts of humanity for: peace and no more war – safe places to call home and create community – love for all versus love for just a few – dreams of a better future.
Koinonia Farm, Habitat for Humanity, American Red Cross, and and and….what are we creating for the betterment of humanity?
This Silent Day Retreat gave me much to meditate on.
Let us have Peace through Service.
Today was the day to get immersed into the life of the community here at Koinonia Farms.
Koinonia was the name of our community gathering space in seminary. It means fellowship – communion – sharing in hospitality – participation – dwelling – life together. This has always been the truest sense of what it means to be the church. Open to the book of Acts and this is what you witness the early church doing 24/7/365.
Sue leads the hospitality team. She is excellent at what she does. I spent from 9 to 12 with her as we walked the farm, checked out all the spaces, asked lots of questions, conversed together, and then watched Briars in the Cotton Patch. This hour long documentary deeply impacted me. Can I recommend you watch and reflect on its message?
What Clarence Jordan and the community here endured was heart breaking to see. And yet – they never threw in the towel or gave up. They kept on keeping on in faith throughout the violence and suffering that they endured. All this hardship because they leaned into being a radically racially inclusive community.
Kicked out of churches – bombed and shot at – extended boycotts to financially crush them – hate boiling over – and yet they endured.
Sadly Clarence Jordan died young at age 57. Others increased in their leadership to carry the legacy forward. No chapter of their life has been easy.
The farm used to be 1400 acres and now is around 550. Their pecan orchards and bakery operation is the primary income stream today. I took a few photos of 100 plus year old equipment still in use today. A few paid staff and a covenant community of supporters who live and work here continue to inspire this place forward. I supported them with a little extra today by buying chocolate, cinnamon and smoked pecans, peach cake, and of course a few extra books. They mail and ship all over the US. Checkout their website to place an order.
Today I got to have lunch with this great team of folks – all with their own unique stories and callings. A wonderful youth group from a Korean Methodist church out of Atlanta are retreating here for the next few days as well. Their energy filled the lunch space with joy.
After mopping floors and wiping down tables, I set out to Americus to get the flat tire fixed. A piece of metal close to the sidewall meant no repair possible and thus only replace. Of course the car rental place said tough to paying for it and that I needed to return with a new tire on it. Just another $120 later and I was on my way.
A quote of Clarence Jordan worth remembering: “Behold a tree, does it not speak to us thusly. Don’t you see that God is not working himself into a frenzy in me. I am calmly, quietly, silently, pouring forth my life and bringing forth fruit. Do Thou Likewise.”
Yes, this is what it means to root and to rise into Christ.
Time for some Pecans.
Johnson 2025 Sabbatical 