#8: Ridgeville, SC. I have moved twice since the last posting when I was in DeFuniak Springs Florida. There was a reader’s group meeting in the Wyoming before I left the Florida Panhandle for Jacksonville. I stayed for a week at Jacksonville and I met more readers; then it was on to South Carolina where I expect to stay for a month or so. This swing through the south—Florida and Louisiana—has been a wonderful experience; never have I enjoyed so much meeting people and sharing stories as on this trip.

                                                DeFuniak Springs, March 16, 2010.

                               John Wilkerson, Bill Vasel, Carl Henderson, Wandering Urantian, Don Ware

Don Ware was interested in starting a Urantia Book study group someplace in the DeFuniak Springs area so I offered the Wyoming for a preliminary meeting. I had previously met John and Carl on my earlier stop in town and had attended Don’s meeting near the gulf. Carl convinced Bill who was not familiar with the Urantia Book to attend; Bill kept up a steady stream of questions, when he left I gave him a copy of the book. We did not read but simply talked about the revelation. They were unable to find a meeting place for the proposed group however.
    
This time the move was in the rain, at times along the way it rained rather hard but I managed to locate in the Flamingo Lake RV Resort which is just off I-295 near Jacksonville. The lake is not much more than a pond, but it does have a couple of water fountains and it must be nearly a mile around. The other day I did four quick laps and the time it took was about what I expect for four miles.

                                                     Jacksonville, March 18, 2010.

                                           Wandering Urantian, Pamela Burr, Jim Weatherly

The day after I parked in Jacksonville I drove to the other side of town and met Joe, who took me to his weekly meeting; usually there are two more, but the others could not attend that night. We read paper 123, “The Early Childhood of Jesus.” This is the paper following the one we read in Lakeland the last time I was there. I thought it touching how the paper described the playmates and games of Jesus as well as how torn Mary was between protecting her son of promise and allowing him space to grow in. During the meeting, a large green parrot in the other room would occasionally add his commentary. Near him there was a Rose Breasted Cockatiel showing off.

One day Jim took me to a used bookstore in Jacksonville where I found a book I had been looking for. Someday I will write a piece comparing and contrasting the writings of Gopi Krishna with the teachings of the Urantia Book; I find this comparison fascinating. The day before I was to leave Jacksonville I went to a tire store to have the tires on the monster checked, I thought one looked a bit low. Turns out one of the four rear tires was flat and had a nail in it! Apparently it had been that way for a while; I shudder to think what would have happened had I tried to pull the Wyoming that way! I don’t know if it is my Thought Adjuster or Guardian Angel, but often I have a feeling to check something and find that indeed it needs attention.

I arrived in South Carolina without anything exciting and left the Wyoming at Camping World for a few days to have routine maintenance done. In the meantime I will stay with Bev at his house in the country near Ridgeville.

#7:  DeFuniak Springs Florida.  The Sunday before last I went to a study group meeting in Madisonville Louisiana. There were five of us and as usual the discussions were interesting. We read paper 34, “The Local Universe Mother Spirit.” It is remarkable that the last three groups have been reading in the same part of the book (Baton Rouge read paper 36 and Fort Walton Beach read paper 38); this is the same general area of the book I am reading on the Kindle. I am reading this version so I can store bookmarks for future reference.

During the meeting Ed mentioned the Null Hypothesis in relation to the Urantia Book which I found interesting since I have previously had similar thoughts. In Statistics, if you want to prove a theorem you state its inverse and determine the probability that the inverse, the Null Hypothesis, is true. (Not that I was ever very proficient in Statistics!) For the Urantia Book the Null Hypothesis would be that it had Earthly authors. Given its total internal consistency, rich complexity and variation in style between papers it is most unlikely that any Earthly authors could have penned it, but if they had put forth all the effort required to compose it then they would have wanted something in return, money or recognition perhaps. In this context, I have read that when William Sadler, Jr. was first told about the Urantia Papers his question was “Who is making money from it?” When he was told “Nobody,” he was interested. (I do not have the page number, but this is in “A History of The Urantia Papers” by Larry Mullins with Dr. Meredith Sprunger.) I believe that the Null Hypothesis is a powerful argument for the authenticity of the Urantia Book.

Last Wednesday I moved back to DeFuniak Springs; the weather report threatened heavy rain and wind but I saw little along the way. That night I saw on the weather report that the rain mostly stayed south of I-10 where I was.

The next day I went into the town and found the springs; there was a small lake which had more water than usual. As I walked around it, more than once I saw the top of a park bench sticking above the water six feet or so out from the shore. The pear trees were in blossom and it was a beautiful day for a walk. The building in the picture is the Chamber of Commerce; next to it is a plaque commemorating the Chautauqua meeting house which had been located there.



                                                          Leaf

                                         A child picks a leaf, stares at it
                                         Hours on end, studying its veins
                                         Its edges, the pattern on the back,
                                         Studies and studies, then throws it away.

                                         A child studying a leaf, it has happened
                                         Over and over a million or perhaps
                                         A billion times before, a simple
                                         Moment of discovery in a growing mind.

                                        This leaf is a metaphor, its knowledge
                                        Is nothing new, it contains no secret
                                        Ingredients which will enlighten
                                        Mankind, thus ending our sorrows.

                                        But this child with mottled sunlight
                                        On its busy face and dirt between barefoot
                                        Toes has gained a process, has seen
                                        The wonder of life in a pale green leaf.

                                        And this process, this crystal moment
                                        Of discovery, if nurtured and given other
                                        Leaves of life to feed this growing mind,
                                        Could light our way in the darkest night.

                                        So look past the dirty feet, the wind
                                        Swept hair into the clear eyes which,
                                        Without knowing, seek to find the universe
                                        In a solitary leaf of the sycamore tree.

(Written May 2, 1992)

#6: Hammond Loiusiana.  I now have an email address to match this blog: WanderingUrantian@Disciples.com future blog notices will come from that address. If you have questions you may send them to either address. With everything going on here in southern Louisiana it is difficult keeping this blog up to date. In the last week I participated in a web cast, had a tour of New Orleans and took a trip to the Louisiana Bayou. As I start writing this it is nearly time to get ready for a reader’s group meeting in Madisonville, which is east of Hammond.

Last Wednesday I went to Virginia’s for the web cast of their meeting. Since Peter could not make it, there was only Virginia, Charles and myself. When I arrived for supper, the piano tuner was at work with occasional comments from their dog; it seemed only certain notes made the dog unhappy. The piano tuner finished at exactly the time the web cast was to start; on it we read Paper 36, The Life Carriers. If anybody watched, please let me know how it looked.

 

 
The next day Peter took me on a native’s tour of New Orleans with the first stop at an old cemetery where he told me its history. Somehow it reminded me of the scene in the “Phantom of the Opera” where Christine visits her father’s grave, except there was thankfully no snow on the ground even though it was cold and windy.

The next stop was along the canal which had failed during Katrina. The wall along the canal appears about ten feet or so high and sits on a bank which is at least that or higher. Even now the water is nearly at the top of the restraining wall, far above ground level where the houses rest. Most of the houses have been restored; the one pictured above is about three houses in from the canal. It is difficult to see in the photograph, but the arrow near the right edge points to the high water line from the flooding.

We then parked the Monster and took a streetcar named St Charles downtown; we looked for the one named Desire which had been on display, but apparently it did not survive Katrina. By the time we neared downtown the streetcar was filled with both tourists and locals. Along the way Peter explained that wide green areas are called “Neutral Ground” here, a legacy from previous times when they separated French and Spanish areas from the Americans. We walked the Quarter and sampled tasty pastries covered with powdered sugar; I will not dare to attempt spelling their French names. While riding the St Charles back to the Monster I got two phone calls, one was from Anthony inviting me to Morgan City.
 

 

 
Morgan City is in the Louisiana Bayou, about a two hour drive south from Hammond so I got up early and was in Morgan City before ten. Anthony said his office is on the fourth floor of a bank building and I had the address but I could not locate it. Fortunately there are only two buildings that tall in Morgan City and the other one is the Hospital so it was just a matter of driving around to find how to approach the bank building.
 
Anthony is truly filled with the spirit and bubbling over with words. We had long talks about the Urantia Book and just things in general. Lunch was shrimp Po’ Boy’s (fried shrimp on French bread). His main job is AB Marine Consulting which inspects boats for insurance companies and owners.  He also rents out houseboats under the name Cajun Houseboats, allowing people from all over to have a few days on the Bayou. In the afternoon a movie producer from the Sci-Fi channel came enquiring about houseboats as he is planning to film a movie in the area. During the meeting I just sat there, not participating; later the director’s assistant left the room and Anthony went to get something so I was left alone with the producer. When he asked about me I launched into a discussion of my travels and the Urantia Book, I also gave him a flier about Sheila’s book and the address of this blog. He seemed to be personally interested, not professionally interested. We then went to look at houseboats and to see the Bayou. The egret was perched alongside the road; Anthony stopped his van in the middle of the road so I could take the picture. We also saw three Great Blue Herons and a Bald Eagle within a couple of miles. The last stop was to see a houseboat at a Bed and Breakfast run by a Cajun couple who have a broad Cajun accent. I took a couple of pictures of Jeff, his grandson and the Australian Shepherd dog which had been trying to herd the boy, but this is long enough already. After my first meal of Crawfish and a couple of hours of conversation it was time to head out; it was nearly midnight when I got back to Hammond.
 

#5: Hammond Louisiana. The journey from Santa Rosa Beach to Hammond Louisiana was without incident. There was one surprise, somewhere along the way I saw a Wyoming fifth wheel going east, the first I have seen other than mine but I didn’t notice it in time to wave at them. Beginning in Mississippi, there were many areas along the interstate where bare tree trunks rose above new undergrowth, probably damage from Hurricane Katrina. Tomorrow I hope to get a tour of New Orleans with a resident who is also a reader of the Urantia Book. By the way, Hammond is east of Baton Rouge and north of New Orleans.


When I got situated in the campground I was pleased to find a good seafood restaurant right next door, Catfish Charley’s. It is situated on the shore of a large pond and my table was next to the window so while I was eating my catfish I could watch the Ring Necked Ducks begging just outside.

One evening I had an interesting thought. By supper time I pull down the shades so that as I am reading in the evening I have the same familiar surroundings and pictures on the wall, this is my house. But in the morning when I open the shades and look outside, the view frequently changes; I may see New York State, South Carolina, Florida, or now Louisiana. It is as if some celestial being has transported me new into a new region with new things to view and explore.

Baton Rouge February 26, 2010

Charles Yarbrough, Peter Callac, Virginia Yarbrough, Wandering Urantian

 

Last Friday I was invited to Baton Rouge for the evening. Virginia and Charles have a beautiful suburban house surrounded by trees; their circular driveway was a bit challenging to navigate in the Monster (Ford F350). After dinner I read the preface and introduction to “Heaven is Not the Last Stop” to the group and we discussed it and the Urantia Book. During the evening someone made the comment, “Where is George?”

The next day I went to Tickfaw State Park to get some serious walking in; on the way back I got a phone call so I had to unbuckle my seat belt and get the cell phone out of my pants pocket. As I talked, the seat belt alarm was going off. The call was from George inviting me to the Baton Rouge Unitarian Church Sunday morning; they were having what he called a Blues service.

On the way to Baton Rouge Sunday morning I worried (something I am frequently doing) how I would recognize George since I had never met him; I had visions of standing in the parking lot calling him on the cell phone. Silly me! I should have realized that not many people try to park anything like the Monster in the Unitarian Church parking lot! As I was surveying the situation he came up and introduced himself saying he thought I would need something significant to pull the fifth wheel.


The service was inspiring; there was a six piece band (drums, bass, piano, two electric guitars and a singer with a box of harmonicas) playing real Louisiana Blues. The most memorable song, Angel Eyes, was sung by a high school senior; her rendition was quite moving.

Pardon me, but I gotta run

  The fact's uncommonly clear

            I gotta find who's now number one

            And why my Angel Eyes ain't here.

                                    Lyrics by Matt Dennis

The homily by the Reverend Steve Crump was about the crucifixion when Christ said “Oh God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Fitting topic for Blues Sunday! His conclusion was this was an affirmation of faith and that Christ was reciting the Twenty Second Psalm which is in agreement with the description in the Urantia Book.

  They drew a circle and shut me out,

A heretic, a rebel, a thing to flout.

But love and I had the wit to win,

 We drew a circle and took them in.

This poem by Edwin Markham inspired the circular window.

The service was well attended by a diverse congregation. Frequently I was struck by the view out the twelve foot diameter window in the front of the sanctuary. The sky was a crisp deep blue and the tree had knots and crooked branches. The view was again in harmony with the Blues theme but if you looked carefully there were buds at the end of the branches, spring will be coming.  After the service we had dinner at a nearby restaurant which had excellent barbeque chicken, there were nine of us at the table.

#4: Santa Rosa Beach, FL. Last week I moved from DeFuniak Springs Florida to Santa Rosa Beach, less than forty miles, so I could be closer to other readers in Destin and Fort Walton Beach; there is also a group in Pensacola but I will miss their meeting night. I arrived with only a minor incident: I managed to chop my head off. I am at the Topsail Hill Preserve State Park. The sites are spread out more than some parks and it is within walking distance of the Gulf, about a mile or so. It is somewhat more expensive than I like, but five miles down the road I could park right on the Gulf and pay twice as much.

Almost forgot, a few years ago (1988!) while camping in Santee State Park in South Carolina I managed to catch a large bass (after which I no longer had an interest in fishing) and in honor of the event Laree (my brother’s wife) made a ceramic figurine of me (well, sort of like me) holding a large fish. It was this figurine that lost its head during the journey from DeFuniak Springs. She assures me it can be fixed when I get to New York State, but until then I will have a headless fisherman.

The other day, after doing a few chores I decided to take a walk along the trails in the park. I took my camera and left at about 1:30 in the afternoon. There was little chance getting lost even though the trail map I was given had no relationship with reality since new roads and been cut across the trails. With the Gulf of Mexico a mile to the left and US 98 a mile to the right I could just wander about. There was not much to take pictures of but I took them anyway. By the time I got to the beach it was about an hour to sunset so I took my time walking along the shore and got some interesting sunset pictures. It was after 6:30 before I got back to the Wyoming and I had taken 144 pictures; aren’t digital cameras fun!

Fort Walton Beach, Florida, February 17, 2010

Ron Shreve, Barbara Snow, Linda Burman, Donald Ware, Erika Anthony, Wandering Urantian, Joyce White, Alan Abel, John Dirian, B B Anderson

Wednesday night I went to the discussion group at Donald Ware’s house. Fortunately Ron drove me; I would have been lost a dozen times! As the picture shows, it was a well attended meeting; that is about the right number for interesting discussions. Some groups, like the ones in Lakeland and Brandon Florida like to read for themselves while others like our group in Summerville SC and this one in Fort Walton Beach prefer to use a recorded version. By the way, every group needs someone like B B to ask frequent questions and keep us on our toes; for some reason I have never been much of a question asker. They are an ambitious group; they started at paper 38, “Ministering Spirits of the Local Universe” and read into paper 39, “The Seraphic Hosts” up to section 5 “Planetary Helpers.” While reading page 420, paragraph 4 the question arose about Seraphim being negative and positive; what does this mean? As frequently happens while reading the Urantia Book, the answer came shortly thereafter, page 422, paragraph 2 where they state one Seraphim is energy positive and the other is energy negative.

Next week I plan to move to Louisiana, east of Baton Rouge where there are a lot of readers, none of whom have answered my emails yet.

#3: DeFuniak Springs Florida. I chose to stop at DeFuniak Springs (more on this town in a moment) because it was about the distance I care to travel when I am pulling the Wyoming, actually it was 373 miles which is an ambitious day. The journey last Thursday was simple and without incident, just traveled north on I75 alongside extensive horse pastures and west on I10 alongside nothing in particular.

I spent Friday (after a heavy rain storm) with John at the Glendale Memorial Nature Preserve. Their idea is instead of filling people with chemicals and planting them in lead vaults, they use no embalming fluids and a simple casket made from cedar boards which are hewn onsite. A tree is planted instead of headstones; this pavilion is where services are held near the memorial plots. John gave me the grand tour of his property, including pointing out the various specimens of Rustasaurus who chance to inhabit the grounds. He expounded on the rich mythology of the species which apparently is unique to his property, someday hoping to fully document their mythical history.

Rustasaurus Jazz Band

When I got off the interstate the first sign I saw was for the Chautauqua Winery. (Honest, I noted ‘Chautauqua’ long before ‘Winery!’) My summer parking space is amongst the beautiful rolling hills of Southwestern New York State, in Chautauqua County and I was curious to find how that name made its way to Florida. In August 1884 members of the Chautauqua Institution (a cultural center founded in 1874 and located on Chautauqua Lake in Chautauqua County) came to Florida looking for a location to hold Chautauqua type meetings in the winter where the climate would be friendlier than in Southwestern New York. They settled on DeFuniak Springs and opened in February 1885. Some cultural events are still held here, this Saturday the Auburn University Singers are scheduled to give a concert; I found this surprising for a small (population less than 5,400) town in Northwestern Florida. It turns out the Winery was named after the Chautauqua meetings in town (they had interesting Muscadine wines).

When I get to my summer parking place in the Hidden Valley Campground I hope to start a Urantia Book study group at the Chautauqua Institution, if anybody has ideas about how to do this, please let me know.

Sunday I went to Destin which is on the gulf and met another reader, Ron. I liked the area so much that tomorrow I will move the Wyoming to a State Park (Topsail Hill) on the Gulf which is about a one hour drive from here. I expect to stay there at least ten days so I can attend a Urantia Book study group and hopefully meet other readers.

The following is a prayer I wrote October 29, 1991

                                                     Father,
                                                     There IS beauty, help us see it,
                                                     There IS love, help us feel it,
                                                     There IS faith, help us act it,
                                                               Sharing it with those in need,
                                                               Gently guiding them toward
                                                               The light of eternal truth.
                                                    May we seek Your will with the
                                                    Totality of our being, now and
                                                    Forevermore
                                                               Thank you.

#2: February 3, 2010
Dade City Florida. I do not plan to write one of these every week, but I wanted to send this out before I leave the Town and Country RV Resort. This is a clean and well managed facility. I had planned to leave Wednesday morning, but it rained so hard Tuesday that I decided to wait a day longer to let things dry out a bit.

Sunday I walked the trail for the last time before leaving for the season. There was a cute little armadillo along the trail (OK, I know they are pests!). I did not have my camera, but I did have my cell phone. I got within three feet and took a close up picture, but later discovered I did not save it, so you are spared the armadillo! I planned to walk six miles, but just before I got to the two mile mark (each mile is marked on the trail) hunters somewhere near the trail started shooting so I turned around a mile early and only walked four miles. I didn’t know what they were hunting; I just hoped it wasn’t me! (Actually I wouldn’t mind seeing the Mansion Worlds, later.)

Lakeland, February 1, 2010

Walt Childs, Cindy Selph, Pamela Farr, Bill Beasley, Share Beasley. In front the Wandering Urantian.

Monday evening the Lakeland group met at the Mosswood center for Spiritual life at the Lakeland Westminster Presbyterian Church. Before starting there was a moment of silence followed by a prayer. We started reading at section 9 of paper 122. The first section contained the poem sung by Simeon at the presentation of Jesus in the Temple. Immediately Cindy obtained a Bible and found the account in the Bible (Luke chapter 2 starting at verse 29) and the two accounts were compared. The Biblical account only contained the last five lines of the version in the Urantia Book which has 23 lines. We had interesting discussions, one observation that was made, possibly more than once, was how real it all seemed, we could readily picture Joseph and Mary and their Son. In an earlier meeting, as we read about the trip to Bethlehem and the discussions Joseph and Mary had at night under the stars, it was remarkable how real it seemed as they talked about politics, current events and about their child to be just like countless other couples over the ages.

After the readings, we had a light snack and said good-bye. The readings were over by 6:30 or so, some had to leave soon thereafter, but the conversations went on for a couple of hours more. I do enjoy just being with good people.

When I had the people lined up for the picture I took a trial shot to see that everything was right; then I set the timer and got in the picture myself. Later I realized there was little movement between the pictures (except the Beasleys, they never stay still) so when I switched between the two pictures it looked as if I were just popping in and out of existence. Interesting effect; it would be neat to post it that way, but I don’t know how (if there is a Blog or Photoshop expert out there, let me know).

Many years ago I used to write a little poetry. I may sneak one in from time to time; the following was written November 8, 1991 (the last poem I have was written in September 1992).

                                                              Spiritual Rebirth
                                                   I have been a shadow on the wind,
                                                   No more than a passing breeze
                                                   Wandering in from some long
                                                   Forgotten swamp of days gone by.

                                                   But I feel myself awakening now,
                                                   A babe pink faced and naked, waving
                                                   Tiny fists, squalling in selfish pain
                                                   From New emotions, New thoughts.

                                                   Will the day come when I shall
                                                   Stand and face the world of Truth?
                                                   I’ll clothe myself within His will,
                                                   Singing His Praises evermore.