The land I came through yesterday is as flat as a table top for hundreds of miles. Perfectly straight rows of cultivated fields pass by hypnotically. This Delta land is rich and productive and is mostly held in huge parcels, many by corporations, so the scene isn’t broken by farm houses, livestock or fences. It feels desolate. Most of the trees were sacrificed long ago and when a small patch does appear, I imagine it packed with desperate wildlife. Many miles passed between small, mostly gritty, towns. In each, there seemed to be a few large, nice homes and many desperately poor ones. There’s a scene burned into my brain that was glimpsed for only a second of a house that literally seemed to be caving in on itself with boards across the windows and a door hanging by one hinge.  A small child in filthy clothes stood in the doorway watching me pass by. Life can be very, very hard. Yet, the human spirit can be inspiringly strong and resilient. Although the odds may be against that child, there are countless stories of people who have grown out of such poverty into very different lives. I pray for comfort, courage, light and love for that little child.