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.