I'll Fly Away

I have a favorite uncle on my mother’s side. Actually he’s my only uncle on my mother’s side but if he weren’t, he would be. I’ll call him “Uncle Fred”. Uncle Fred grew up at Shake Rag and is the source of many of my stories that occurred before I was even conceived, I mean thought about. He is a veteran of the Korean War and then served the state of Mississippi as a Highway Patrolman. He served faithfully for a hundred years or so, eventually becoming District Supervisor. After retiring, he had a brief stint as sheriff in his small town in north Mississippi. I always said he could have been on a recruiting poster. He is tall and has a stare that could stop most crooks in their tracks. I have a vivid memory of him pulling my mother and me over on I-55 as we made our way home from Memphis. As we stood on the side of the road chatting, my mother took her empty Coke bottle and heaved it out away from the highway. With arms folded, dark glasses, and wide-brimmed hat on, Uncle Fred stared down at her and said in a low but stern voice, “Sista, that’s a five hundred dollar fine.”

With his military and law enforcement career, it’s no wonder that folks would naturally turn to him when disaster strikes. There is one lady in particular that calls Uncle Fred even when the tiniest of clouds comes floating by. Now, Uncle Fred is a good man, a deacon of First Baptist Church and long on patience. However, Uncle Fred finally ran out of that patience and the next phone call that he got from the dear lady concerning some benign thunder cloud brought this response , “Mrs. Smith, why don’t you just put a cell phone in your pocket and when you land, call me. I’ll come get you.”

Dorothy could have used that advice when she landed in Oz. That is, if cell phones had been invented. “Auntie Em? This is Dorothy. Are you ok? That was some twister. Yes, I’m fine. The house isn’t quite the same. As a matter of fact, nothing is quite the same. There was this witch, and there are little people, and everything is black and white, and, well, I don’t know how to get home. Could you come get me?”

Or Elijah, you know, the prophet that was taken away by the whirlwind. Elijah: “Dude, I’m ridin’ this whirlwind and we just passed over Kilimanjaro. Oops, clipped a pink flamingo.” Then there’s Enoch. Who knows what happened to him? “I was there, now I’m not.”

One day, we will be here, and then not. Jesus said that He has prepared a place for us. What if we could have cell phones? “This isn’t quite what I expected, but you know, I like it. You won’t believe who I just saw. That grace thing was way bigger than I ever imagined. No, don’t be in any hurry about getting here. There’s plenty more to do where you are. Things are so clear now. Love. Peace. Grace. Tell Auntie Em not to worry. I’m home.”

Why don’t you join with me in singing or humming “I’ll Fly Away”? It seems appropriate. But, before you do, put a cell phone in your pocket. You just never know.