High In The Middle And Round On Both Ends

Yep. I spent the weekend in Ohio. But I wasn't planting or harvesting corn or throwing buckeyes at pedestrians (although I did learn what one is). A friend of mine was getting married and Columbus is his bride's hometown.

I met Jonathan on summer project with Campus Crusade for Christ in 2003. We shared a motel room with three other guys for eleven weeks in Branson, Missouri. It was a mission trip of sorts and an experience I'll not soon forget. Especially because of Jonathan. He's one in a billion. And I learned this weekend that so is his wife Ellie.

They're perfect for each other. They love Jesus. They laugh a lot. And every time they kiss, a chorus of forks clinking glassware can be heard (or was that just the reception?). I really enjoyed the wedding, but I also had fun traveling.

I was my own travel agent a few months back and that was fun it and of itself (perhaps a career for a degree-holding geographer?). I flew one-stop to Columbus through Memphis, Tennessee, where the airport features a floor-mosaic of Elvis as well as an all-Elvis store/museum. I stayed at a Red Roof Inn by myself—which was great because I didn't have anyone to tell me not to jump on the beds (which I did).

I also acquired my first rental car. What a blast that was! I drove a late model Chevy Impala and navigated the many highways and byways of Columbus with only a visitor's map and a set of directions from Google. Unlimited mileage almost tempted me to drive to Lake Erie, but the desk clerk at the motel convinced me I didn't have enough time.

The highlight of my trip was definitely the Sunday morning visit to Rod Parsley's World Harvest Church. The message was exactly what I needed to hear that morning! What surprised me most was the plainness of the church. It's big, without question, but it's not very glitzy at all like I was expecting. That was enough to impress me.

Check out Ohio if you haven't, but don't bother looking for a state flag at the airport. The closest thing I could find was a tiny drawing on a postcard with other state icons.