Saturday, September 15, 2012
Monday, April 12, 2010
Monday, December 8, 2008
Good Church Again
Good church on the road has been a rarity. That makes it all the more special when I find it. It is a gift from God. I have had good church in West Memphis, in Medina, Ohio, and in a few other places. Most of the time there is no church within walking distance of the truck stops or else I am running hard and cannot attend the service.
It is Sunday, December 7 (Pearl Harbor Day!). I was headed for Quebec over Thanksgiving. My employer has kept me in the northeast since then. I have been to New Jersey, Pittsburgh, Connecticut and back to New Jersey. I dropped a dirty empty trailer at the tankwash in New Jersey Friday afternoon, and the computer in the truck began to beep. "Hook loaded trailer 25749 and proceed to ... Chattanooga!" Hallelujah! A return to the warmer southland. Better yet, the loaded trailer was just now coming into the yard which meant I could make Chattanooga by Saturday night and have Sunday off! Now, if only there would be some church to attend. I was hungry to meet together with other believers to sing, fellowship and hear the preaching of the word.
Chattanooga has no truckstops within the city. There is a tankwash, but the best hope for parking seemed to be Charleston, Tennessee, 25 miles north of Chattanooga, within reach of the customer Monday morning. There is a new Love's Truckstop there with a large parking lot
Saturday evening I arrived. I marched into the truckstop and approached the fuel desk. "Do you have a church here within walking distance?" The ladies behind the fuel desk shook their heads "no". Indeed, Charleston proper was located several miles away on the other side of the freeway. My experience in Ohio last year told me it would be good to ask a second time. In the McDonalds restaurant inside the truckstop I approached the lady at the counter, asked her about the availability of WIFI there, and then asked if there was any church within walking distance. She said no, but that I could go to church with her or her son. I wrote my phone number down and gave it to her.
This morning came. I waited, and just when I thought I had been forgotten, the telephone rang. It was Pastor Bob and he would be at the truckstop in a few minutes. Thank you, Lord!
The church was tiny. It met in a school auditorium. Pastor Bob was a former Methodist Youth Minister who grew up Ukranian Orthodox. Pastor Bob had a pony tail. An elder gave the Christmas message. We sang Christmas carols. There was an advent wreath. We had what I can only describe as "French Dip" communion. And God was there. It was very good church indeed. I left refreshed and ready for what the next week has in store.
It is Sunday, December 7 (Pearl Harbor Day!). I was headed for Quebec over Thanksgiving. My employer has kept me in the northeast since then. I have been to New Jersey, Pittsburgh, Connecticut and back to New Jersey. I dropped a dirty empty trailer at the tankwash in New Jersey Friday afternoon, and the computer in the truck began to beep. "Hook loaded trailer 25749 and proceed to ... Chattanooga!" Hallelujah! A return to the warmer southland. Better yet, the loaded trailer was just now coming into the yard which meant I could make Chattanooga by Saturday night and have Sunday off! Now, if only there would be some church to attend. I was hungry to meet together with other believers to sing, fellowship and hear the preaching of the word.
Chattanooga has no truckstops within the city. There is a tankwash, but the best hope for parking seemed to be Charleston, Tennessee, 25 miles north of Chattanooga, within reach of the customer Monday morning. There is a new Love's Truckstop there with a large parking lot
Saturday evening I arrived. I marched into the truckstop and approached the fuel desk. "Do you have a church here within walking distance?" The ladies behind the fuel desk shook their heads "no". Indeed, Charleston proper was located several miles away on the other side of the freeway. My experience in Ohio last year told me it would be good to ask a second time. In the McDonalds restaurant inside the truckstop I approached the lady at the counter, asked her about the availability of WIFI there, and then asked if there was any church within walking distance. She said no, but that I could go to church with her or her son. I wrote my phone number down and gave it to her.
This morning came. I waited, and just when I thought I had been forgotten, the telephone rang. It was Pastor Bob and he would be at the truckstop in a few minutes. Thank you, Lord!
The church was tiny. It met in a school auditorium. Pastor Bob was a former Methodist Youth Minister who grew up Ukranian Orthodox. Pastor Bob had a pony tail. An elder gave the Christmas message. We sang Christmas carols. There was an advent wreath. We had what I can only describe as "French Dip" communion. And God was there. It was very good church indeed. I left refreshed and ready for what the next week has in store.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Again in a foreign land ...
It is Sunday evening, November 30, and for two days I have sat at the Flying J truckstop in Vaudreuil, Quebec Province, Canada.
Freight is very, very slow. My company made it clear that there would be no loads to take Thanksgiving week (and, indeed, drivers who went home for Thanksgiving are still waiting on loads in Houston - the economic problems are hurting the trucking industry along with the normal holiday lull). After discussing the matter with my wife and children, I called my employer and discovered that there were two loads left running over the Thanksgiving holiday. I volunteered.
It is not my preference to be away from home on the Thanksgiving holiday, my favorite of the year.
Yet, on this trip I have already had several "divine appointments".
More about this later ...
Freight is very, very slow. My company made it clear that there would be no loads to take Thanksgiving week (and, indeed, drivers who went home for Thanksgiving are still waiting on loads in Houston - the economic problems are hurting the trucking industry along with the normal holiday lull). After discussing the matter with my wife and children, I called my employer and discovered that there were two loads left running over the Thanksgiving holiday. I volunteered.
It is not my preference to be away from home on the Thanksgiving holiday, my favorite of the year.
Yet, on this trip I have already had several "divine appointments".
More about this later ...
Monday, October 20, 2008
In a Foreign Land
Last weekend found me in a foreign land - Canada.
And it was not just any part of Canada - I was in French speaking Quebec. I do not speak Quebecois. The Quebecois do not speak Texan.
When I am in Canada, I always feel out of place. The language (even in English Canada) is different. The currency is different. The customs are different. The laws are different. I have to look at a different portion of the speedometer.
I know that I do not belong there and there is always a sense of relief when I successfully cross the border back into my own country.
The writer of the Book of Hebrews states or certain believers:
"These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth."
Peter writes:
"Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;"
Some modern writers use the word "aliens" instead of pilgrims, but the idea is the same. This world is not our permanent home. If you belong to the Master, you are a stranger here. You long to be in your own country. You do not become too attached to this temporary abode.
Like Abraham, you look "for a city ... whose builder and maker is God."
Let none of us who name Him as our Saviour become too attached to this world, lest, like Lot's wife, we have the wrong affections.
And it was not just any part of Canada - I was in French speaking Quebec. I do not speak Quebecois. The Quebecois do not speak Texan.
When I am in Canada, I always feel out of place. The language (even in English Canada) is different. The currency is different. The customs are different. The laws are different. I have to look at a different portion of the speedometer.
I know that I do not belong there and there is always a sense of relief when I successfully cross the border back into my own country.
The writer of the Book of Hebrews states or certain believers:
"These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth."
Peter writes:
"Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts, which war against the soul;"
Some modern writers use the word "aliens" instead of pilgrims, but the idea is the same. This world is not our permanent home. If you belong to the Master, you are a stranger here. You long to be in your own country. You do not become too attached to this temporary abode.
Like Abraham, you look "for a city ... whose builder and maker is God."
Let none of us who name Him as our Saviour become too attached to this world, lest, like Lot's wife, we have the wrong affections.
Hurricanes
The weekend of September 13 was memorable. A great hurricane came to Houston.
On Thursday I was bound for Houston, but my company diverted me, along with a number of other drivers who were Houston bound, to Dallas. My wife, children, and disabled brother-in-law fled from Houston. They were rejected at their first stopping place, and wound up split between the homes of my brother and my sister in Dallas. Since there was no freight originating in Dallas, I spent Saturday and Sunday with my family while my company paid me (company policy applied). This, I felt, was beyond coincidence.
Tuesday my family returned to our home. Many trees were down, but the house was untouched. Only a large tree limb (over eight inches in diameter at the base) lay across the top of the carport. The limb was later removed.
But it gets better. Parts of our neighborhood would be without electricity for weeks, yet when my wife and children returned, we had electricity. There was no electricity to the north, south or west, but we had electricity.
But it gets better. My wife has a horse in the back yard area. The fence was down. I thought: "the horse will be gone but at least my wife and children are safe". The horse was standing in the fenced area when my family returned.
I understand that God is in charge. I understand that many Christian people lost their homes. I understand that had we lost our home, He would still provide.
Yet I thank and praise God for His great mercy, kindness and provision!
Jeremiah, a man with whom I look forward to speaking, had to witness the destruction of his beloved Jerusalem. He wrote:
It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed,
because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning:
great is thy faithfulness.
On Thursday I was bound for Houston, but my company diverted me, along with a number of other drivers who were Houston bound, to Dallas. My wife, children, and disabled brother-in-law fled from Houston. They were rejected at their first stopping place, and wound up split between the homes of my brother and my sister in Dallas. Since there was no freight originating in Dallas, I spent Saturday and Sunday with my family while my company paid me (company policy applied). This, I felt, was beyond coincidence.
Tuesday my family returned to our home. Many trees were down, but the house was untouched. Only a large tree limb (over eight inches in diameter at the base) lay across the top of the carport. The limb was later removed.
But it gets better. Parts of our neighborhood would be without electricity for weeks, yet when my wife and children returned, we had electricity. There was no electricity to the north, south or west, but we had electricity.
But it gets better. My wife has a horse in the back yard area. The fence was down. I thought: "the horse will be gone but at least my wife and children are safe". The horse was standing in the fenced area when my family returned.
I understand that God is in charge. I understand that many Christian people lost their homes. I understand that had we lost our home, He would still provide.
Yet I thank and praise God for His great mercy, kindness and provision!
Jeremiah, a man with whom I look forward to speaking, had to witness the destruction of his beloved Jerusalem. He wrote:
It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed,
because his compassions fail not.
They are new every morning:
great is thy faithfulness.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
September 6
I am home unexpectedly. I am midway between scheduled time at home periods. My first load went to Tucson and then straight back to my home port. Now I do not have a load until tomorrow morning.
What this means is that freight is slow. Miles have not been good the past three months and I am paid by the mile. This presents two problems.
First, the standard practice at our company is that drivers must whine to get more and better loads. "The squeaky wheel gets the grease" is the common saying of the worldly wise driver. I think that as a Christian there must be some balance between being a doormat and being a money-grubber. Do we not need godly wisdom in such instances? And where does such wisdom come from? I think we must ask God for wisdom AND that it is important to check and make sure that one is in the Spirit, not in the flesh, when addressing such issues.
Second, my company has a pattern of flushing experienced drivers and bringing in a constant stream of new drivers. This makes it appealing to move on at this point. But this is one of the reasons that my company remains a fertile ground for witnessing. There are lots and lots of new drivers who always need help.
What this means is that freight is slow. Miles have not been good the past three months and I am paid by the mile. This presents two problems.
First, the standard practice at our company is that drivers must whine to get more and better loads. "The squeaky wheel gets the grease" is the common saying of the worldly wise driver. I think that as a Christian there must be some balance between being a doormat and being a money-grubber. Do we not need godly wisdom in such instances? And where does such wisdom come from? I think we must ask God for wisdom AND that it is important to check and make sure that one is in the Spirit, not in the flesh, when addressing such issues.
Second, my company has a pattern of flushing experienced drivers and bringing in a constant stream of new drivers. This makes it appealing to move on at this point. But this is one of the reasons that my company remains a fertile ground for witnessing. There are lots and lots of new drivers who always need help.
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