Dear Jimmy,
Well, I don't have much to say, but since I hadn't bent your ear in a good long while, I decided to put off my laundry and write you a long letter. Your Uncle Orley and I just got back last week from our trip down to South Carolina to see Orley's kinfolk who live down that way. His pappy's brother went down there during the big war 'cause he was in the Navy and he met a girl from down there and eventually lost all interest in coming home.
Well, anyway, I'll tell you all about them. We hadn't been there hardly long enough to get the suitcase out of the trunk when by the language I heard I knew it was going to be a very long three days. Thank goodness Orley has always held to the Mark Twain theory of hospitality, I thought to myself. He says company is like fish. After three days they start to stink.
To speak truthfully, the Carolina kin seemed to be respectable enough folks except for the language I just mentioned. But they have no observable interest in the church or spiritual things. And that didn't leave us with much to talk about since our whole lives seem to be centered around the church.
Well, I was feelin' sorry for myself and wishin' I hadn't agreed to go trapsing off to see kin I'd never met even if they did invite us when all of a sudden it hit me that maybe I was there for a reason.
Brother Bobby, who you remember is our little preacher down at Bluebell Baptist, is always sayin' “You might be the only Bible a lost person ever reads.” I guess the message finally got through, so I began to see things a little bit different.
You know, it's funny how preachers tell their folks that they ought to be tellin' the lost about Jesus—and they're right of course. But then we fill up church members' time with church activities. Just when is it we are supposed to be sharin' with the lost?
Somethin' else I realized while the Lord had my attention. Truth be told, I don't even know that many lost people. Lost people just don't tend to be part of the WMU and I don't have much interest in movin' in their circles either.
So there you have it. I'm a Christian who knows I should share Jesus with those who are not Christians, but I don't like to be around them and I don't know many of them. At this point the Good Lord was workin' on me pretty good. And I came to a startlin' conclusion.
I'm not sure Bro. Bobby is going like this idea, but I need to spend less time at church and more time sharin' with folks what I know about Jesus. But just the thought of walkin' up to a perfect strangers (maybe not perfect, but anyway) and strikin' up a conversation about intimate spiritual things just scares the stuffin' out of me.
So I had to give that right much thinkin' about too. I figured I wouldn't feel too keen about some stranger pryin' into my private thoughts so it stands to reason that other folks might not like it either. I know I'm more apt to open up to and listen to somebody I know.
Now all the while I'm havin' this spiritual growth spurt I'm down with Orley's relatives, who must have judged me by this time to be one of those religious snobs. Some holier-than-thou church lady. Of a sudden like I realized I had to mend some fences and build some bridges. So I went to work.
You know, when I got to talkin' with them I discovered we had a lot more in common than I figured at first. Why, I started askin' questions about them and answerin' their questions about us and you know by the second day I was down right glad we'd gone and by the third day I was sorry to leave. Funny how that worked.
After dinner the second night one of Orley's cousins, a woman close to my age, I judge, though it was hard to tell ‘cause she'd had a pretty hard life, asked me if we went to church. I tried not to pause too long in answerin' even though I was prayin' about what to say. I just told her that yes, Orley and I go to church right often.
Then she said, “I had you figured for church people.” Well, now, I didn't know what to make of that, so I asked her, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She laughed a little bit and said, “Well, I've seen it go both ways.”
I think that was her way of sayin', “I'm still tryin' to decide if you are real or phony.” And you know what, Jimmy? That didn't offend me at all. I'm quite sure I'd be exactly the same way if I was her. Why, to be honest, I've seen it go both ways too. So, quick as a flash, I knew that's exactly what I should tell her, so I did.
You shoulda seen how she laughed at that. Whatever she was expectin' me to say, it wasn't that. For the rest of our time there, Ruthie and I were great friends. She's widowed and her children live away so she's comin' to see us for Thanksgivin'. I just know we'll have a great time. And I hope she'll decide that our bein' church folks is a good thing and will let me tell her what I have in my heart to say.
I'm not sure this is goin' to come out right, but during the years I have left on this earth I've about decided that I want to be less religious and more like Jesus. I want to judge people less and love them more. I want to show folks by how I treat them that bein' a church lady has been a good thing for me because that's where I've learned how to be a Jesus lady.
Well, I've got to sign off. The laundry will wait but Orley won't. I hear him callin' me for somethin'. Y'all come see us real soon.
Love, Aunt Ida