Holy Days in the Apple Pi Inn: The Joureny is Home

Country roads take us home, but for many Appalachians those roads are designed for two way traffic. Family and the land draw us back to our place of origin but work takes us out of the mountains again. Where, then, is home?

Ruth Duck named this form of pilgrimage in one of her early hymns. One line says it all: "The Journey Is Home." Drew's famous feminist, Nelle Morton, borrowed it for her collection of essays, so when I claim it I'm in good company.

The journey is home. Bill is resting on the new back porch of the Apple Pi Inn built by two inventive men: Darrell Starcher and Chuck Cogar. Nothing in the building was square, nothing was level, nothing was according to plan. But they, like the Carpenter to whom this structure is dedicated, made it right.

Bill rests, and reads and recovers. We are thankful for the presence and prayers of so many companions of the Way. Hannah, named for his favorite philosopher, Hannah Arendt, keeps watch over all the critters and her two-legged Being named Bill. All is well, and will be well for we do not travel alone.

I sit and make lists and ponder the task of the Methodist circuit riders : "Pack up your stuff. Go where you're sent." Elizabeth now. Madison soon. We trade the West Virginia Hills for the Garden State and the University in the Forest.

But as the song, and the story goes: The Journey is Home. See you next turn of the road.