October 2006

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I've been thinking a lot about the North Carolina mountains, and their northern foothills. These are my main thin places, by the way. It never fails that when I have a chance to drive through that part of the state, I am filled with peace and with a certain knowledge that my mother is not far from me. Neither is my Aunt Rebecca, Mother's twin.

Back in 1996, after Mother's death, I realized I was having full-blown panic attacks at the thought of driving on the interstate, and sought another route back to my hometown. The route I settled on is a more northern one than many would take, but it suits me just fine.

Mother and Aunt Rebecca grew up in the N. C. mountains and in Winston-Salem. My cobbled-together route west takes me through Winston-Salem and up into the mountains, including the town of their birth. The first time I drove that route, as soon as I got into Winston-Salem I knew everything was going to be all right.

I knew that no matter how much longer I was going to be in the car, it would be fine. And I knew there were two others in the car with me as I passed through the town, Mother and Aunt Rebecca. They were with me till almost home.

And since that time, I've felt them with me on my travels.

Whenever I'm in the mountains, I not only feel closer to my family but also to the Creator. There is something so majestic and profoundly peaceful about that area. It may be all the granite. It may be the view. Whatever it is, it fills me with peace and awe, and the knowledge that the world is bigger than I am, so there is a place for me.

And some thin places. How delightful.