August 18

It is the last day of the three days of home time. Wife and children are well. I have enjoyed cooking and sharing meals with the family. I have to go back to work tomorrow.

August 11

It is Sunday evening and I am in Dallas, Texas. I must go to sleep soon because I need to be in Snyder, Texas, early in the morning. The chemical in the tank is 98% acetic acid (vinegar is only 4% I am told) and a full protective plastic chemical suit is needed for the unload. The suits are unbearably hot. It has been over 100 degrees in North Texas of late. The plastic suit is ready. So are the Gatorade bottles.


I wish to write of the events of Friday. God was once again present in the delays.

Thursday evening I was not a "happy camper". I was already near Spartanburg but could not unload until 1:00 p.m. the following day. I sought permission to unload early. My employer denied permission. This meant sitting at the Pilot truck stop at Gaffney. You would think I would learn by now (surely I ride God's short bus - I am one of his special education students).

Friday morning I rose up early and took my shower. A customer in the Pilot suggested I try the fruit stand outside in the automobile portion of the lot. What a blessing! Fresh peaches - fresh tomatoes. Not the hard, woody peaches from the produce section. Not the plastic, pale tomatoes from the produce section. These were the real deal. I ate the last tomato and mayonaisse sandwich this morning. And the peaches, sliced and covered with UHT milk. Hmmmmm. Fresh produce in the truck. What a rare blessing! Little did I know when I bought the fruit that I would soon be discussing fruits in the parking lot - the fruits of the Spirit.

Out in the truck lot were two trucks from my company. I went up to the first and offered the driver a peach, which he accepted, as he had been eyeing the fruit stand himself. Then I went to the second truck, only two spaces from mine. It was a young man driving dedicated Walmart delivery. He had his ten year old son with him (minor passengers are permitted by the company in the van division). His name was Honorio and he accepted a peach. I went to my truck.

In a minute, Honorio was over to my truck, showing me his scale ticket. The shipper had loaded him too heavy in the front of the trailer. Honorio was overweight on his drive axles. It was time to slide the tandems (the tires at the back of the van trailer are mounted on slide rails which have holes in them with movable pins). This is best a two man job and I grabbed my gloves and headed over to Honorio's truck. Honorio got in his driver seat and I manned the pin lever at the back of the trailer. The task was soon accomplished, and a reweigh on the truck stop scale confirmed that Honorio was now legal on all axels. He backed in again near me.

We spoke again. Now I am not a big "relational", "touchy-feely" kind of guy, but the modernists have one thing right: It is easier to share the gospel with even a touch of relationship, and the opportunity to help Honorio was the opening I needed. I gave Honorio a tract, but surprise, Honorio was already a professing believer. No matter, I gave Honorio some more tracts to give to other drivers. We looked at some scriptures together, including Galatians 5 ("fruits of the spirit, works of the flesh"). We prayed together. I always pray that God will perfect the other driver and use him, all to the glory of God. Honorio seemed encouraged. We went our separate ways.

But the day was not over. God was not yet finished.

At 1:00 p.m. I arrived at the customer. The unload went without problem.

By 4:00 or so I was back out on Interstate 26 south of Spartanburg, heading for tankwash in Augusta. I-26 is hilly. I was empty (constant speed). Soon a faster owner operator pulling for my company approached me from behind in ancient GMC-White-Volvo. He swung out to pass me on the downhill. He was heavy laden and did not realize I was empty (I still bear the hazmat placards until I arrive at the tankwash) and he quickly bogged down as we went up the hill. I was in no hurry, and I slowed so he could get by. A "thank you" came over the CB radio.

That "thank you" started a 90 mile conversation. Roger and I were headed in the same direction and we switched chanels so we could chat. Roger is from Indiana. He had gone broke once, been a company driver, and was now an owner operator again in a truck so ancient I had never seen one like it before. But Roger was clever. Auxillary power units to cool a truck cab without idling cost over $8,000.00, but Roger had used a Walmart pull start generator and a 110 volt air conditioning unit to build his own for less than $500.00. Now this I wanted to see.

Roger was nearly done with his day, but I had not pulled out of the Pilot until after 10:00, so I was not nearly ready to stop. Nevertheless, when Roger pulled into a small truckstop on U.S. 25, I followed him in so he could show me his creation. It was quite the invention, but I could see Roger lacked a means to keep other drivers from stealing the generator when it was situated on his catwalk. I just "happened" to have an extra cable lock which had been riding in my sidebox unused the past three years. Roger gratefully accepted the cable lock, and once again I had my opportunity. Roger was not a believer. Roger and the other company driver who pulled in about the same time both got a tract. Then I was on my way.

But the day was still not over!

I reached the tankwash in Augusta about 6:00 p.m., still on-schedule, Roger notwithstanding, dropped my dirty tankwagon, signed it in, and found my loaded relay. But I was not the only driver at the tankwash.

My company has horrific turnover, and to make up for this there is a steady stream of new drivers. Many need help at some point. Here was Kelvin from Louisiana. He was supposed to hook a clean tank, but it had not been washed. It was Friday night. There was no day staff available to answer questions. Kelvin was also headed for an unfamiliar unload location.

I walked Kelvin over to the tankwash personnel, only two of whom were still on duty on Friday evening, and soon they were washing his tank out. Then Kelvin and I sat for an hour while we went over his route and I drew some quick maps of the customer location. It was the third opportunity of the day! When I left, Kelvin had a clean tank. Kelvin knew how to get to the customer. I told Kelvin exactly Who had kept me these past three years in the truck. Kelvin had a gospel tract and my telephone number.

I am not a skilled evangelist. At best, I plant seeds. What I do, you can do. This is not rocket science. A child can do this. It is simply a matter of making an effort to stay close to God, and then asking Him for opportunities. If you genuinely ask God for these opportunities, I think He will give them to you. I think all you have to do is tell the other person what God has done for you, and then I think a written tract is still a marvelous tool. You can get the tracts very cheaply at local Christian stores.

The exciting part is that you never know when you are going to have those divine appointments.

Oops! It is already 9:30 p.m. and I want to pull out of here around 03:00. Time to retire. You don't want tired truck drivers sailing down the road with 45,000 lbs of acid in the tank!

Most excellent church services

This began as a dissappointing weekend. My company failed to get me home when I had requested and left me stranded at our West Memphis, Arkansas, terminal from Saturday night through Monday morning. Once I determined I was stranded late Saturday, I was in foul humor. I had planned to be home with my family to attend services. Now I was 550 miles from home with no prospect of getting home until Monday evening or Tuesday. I had to read some scripture and meditate on it before I even walked into the operating center (our terminal) and faced other drivers.

Then a most amazing set of events transpired and this morning I had most excellent church.

When I went into the operating center there were quite a number of drivers. Some were eating. Some talking in small groups. Some were working on their laptop computers. I saw no one to speak with immediately and proceeded to the microwave to warm my soup. I had my laptop bag as well. While I was eating, one of the drivers who was using one of the few electrical outlets to charge his DVD player asked me if I would like to use the outlet to run my laptop. I told him to take his time, that I did not need to use the outlet right away, but I warned him that his question was an invitation to conversation and moved to his table.

Larry was from New York. He had last everything in a divorce. He had been driving truck for a year. He wanted to go to church in the morning. I told him I did not know any churches in the area, but he had asked the lady at the fuel desk and she had told him of her church. I went up to the fuel desk, got the name of the church, the street address, the service times and more precise directions.

This morning Larry and I headed off in my tractor at 07:00 to catch the early morning service at New Mt. Zion Missionary Baptist Church. We figured it would be easier to fit in the parking lot bobtail (bobtail means tractor with no trailer attached) during the early 08:00 service.

The service was EXCELLENT. The music was superb. The message was sound, biblically based and needful. The pastor preached on fasting, using as his text Matthew 6:16-18.

I felt that I really had church this morning, and I had not expected to get any church. God is so good.

So yes, there is still a bible teaching pastor in West Memphis, Arkansas. There is still a remnant scattered here and there.

July 14

July 14 (posted from Dallas on July 17)

I have been out and about since July 8. I do not have wi-fi access this evening, so I am typing and saving to post later.

July 4 through 7 were spent at home celebrating the 4th of July and my brother-in-law's birthday.

Church was disappointing. We went to Lutheran Sunday School. The pastor was rushed. I would have loved to ask him some questions about the Lutheran view of saving faith. (Indeed, I think it is time to discuss this subject on the theology blog). Then we went to service at a local baptist church. The sermon was a horrific blend of Christian popular psychology and misapplied scripture. Sunday evening there was no service, it being 4th of July weekend. Most churches no longer have Sunday evening services, but our local Assembly of God church usually does have them, except on 4th of July weekend when a softball game was substituted.

July 8 it was a local delivery followed by grabbing a loaded tank and heading for Milwaukee (Waukesha). The evening of July 8 was noteworthy because I found a parking space, a good parking space, when I should not have found one, at 11:00 pm while tired. For those not familiar with trucking, it is particularly difficult to find parking in the overcrowded truck stops and rest areas after 6:00 p.m. and nearly impossible between 8:00 p.m. and 3:00 a.m. I have written this before, but God's abundant grace and mercy is ever manifest. Here is a favorite verse:

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.
The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore I will hope in him. Lamentations 3:22-24

July 9 I made it deep into Illinois, to a truckstop at Minonk. Again, God was gracious. Again, it was late. The truckstop directory I carry mentioned only a medium sized lot at this small truckstop. I was delighted to find a huge dirt lot adjacent open to big trucks. I slept and in the morning I met Dennis.

Dennis pulled up next to me in the morning and walked over after I waived, ostensibly to ask about the name of the town for his log book. We talked. I made mention of God, and we proceeded to talk about God and His goodness toward us. Dennis looked hardbitten, but knew the scriptures and related that his 94 year old father had been a Baptist pastor. I directed the conversation towards the subject of "what is saving faith". This is an interesting subject because our Lord Himself related that:

Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful
works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity. Matthew 7.

Brothers and sisters, I don't know about you, but those are the very last words I want to hear from the Master. Better to hear:

Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.

Dennis and I prayed together and he departed.

Then it was on to Waukesha where I unloaded, and on to the tankwash in Neenah, Wisconsin, to pick up a clean tank. At Neenah, I met Richard.

Richard was another driver for my company. I saw Richard at the tankwash. There were other company drivers there, but Richard stood out in that he was helping another driver from another company with directions. This is unusual, as most truck drivers these days are too busy to help others.

I headed off to Wausau for my next load. I was surprised to see Richard there again the following morning. We spoke and he gave me helpful information on a road closure that he had learned from the truck stop attendant. Richard and I were bound for the same customer.

Once at the customer, Richard and I had time to chat while our tank trailers were being loaded with smelly, sticky processed black tree sap. I asked Richard why he was different, and he did not hesitate to tell me: "Because of Jesus Christ". Richard is a young believer out driving in the truck.

It was good to meet another Christian driver from the same company. Once again, I do not believe in coincidence. I believe in providence. God rules and overrules in the affairs of men.

Tonight, I am in Kansas City at the tank wash, but the wi-fi is down. I do not load until tomorrow morning and then I go to Tulsa.

We shall see what else God has in store. I must tend to some house keeping here in the truck, and if I have time to type tomorrow I would really like to spend time writing of the subject of saving faith.

Jumper Cables and a Missing Tank Fitting

The Jumper Cables

Early on in my driving career (all of three years ago) I found myself holed up in a small rest area near Hugo, Colorado, with another driver whose truck had broken down. The other driver asked me if I had jumper cables. I did not, but that they would be a welcome addition to my side box and added them when I returned home.

This two week cycle began with a trip to Los Angeles. This is unusual. I only go to California two or three times a year. The rest of the time I stay in the eastern half of the United States.

On the way back from Los Angeles, circumstances had me in Eloy, Arizona, south of Phoenix, fueling at the Pilot truckstop in the morning. Though it was morning, the desert heat was already substantial. I wanted to fuel and grab a badly needed shower. The fuel space next to me opened, and another tanker truck from my company pulled in. Great, I thought. I was not "feeling" sociable. I did not even smell sociable. Reluctantly, I turned to greet the driver.

It was a team. It was an inexperienced new team. They wanted to know if I knew where the fuse box is located. They were having electrical problems with the truck. No one was waiting behind us. I showed them the fuse box and checked the fuses for them. Then one of the drivers mentioned that the voltmeter was reading very low. Then one of the drivers tried to start the truck. The four batteries were dead. They were sitting ducks in the fuel island, facing a multi-hour wait calling the company, arranging, and waiting for roadside maintenance.

Because I was equipped with jumper cables, I whipped my truck forward, was able to turn the rig, came into the spot I had just vacated backwards (nose first) and got my cables out. In minutes they were started.

The driver started to thank me, and I stopped him. "You don't understand. Don't thank me. That you had another driver, from the same company, with jumper cables, next to you in the fuel island when your truck quit was not a coincidence. That simply does not happen in real life. Instead give thanks to God!"

The lead driver was moved to tears. He shared that he and his co-driver were Christians, that they began every day with prayer, and that how they were certain that God had put me there at that time. We prayed together and I then gave them the practical information of the location of the Petro truckstop eight miles up the road where my company has arrangements with the repair shop (the same truckstop I wrote about some weeks back with the chapel in it).

I think I was sent there that morning at that time.

----------------------------

The Missing Tank Fitting

After returning from California, I was sent to drop a tank bound for Mexico in Laredo. From Laredo I was sent bobtail to Brownsville 200 miles away in order to pick up a dirty empty coming back from Mexico.

At the broker lot in Brownsville I saw something I had never seen before. The tankwagon returning from Mexico had had its outlet fitting stolen. When I walked around the back, there was an open pipe staring at me. State troopers will not allow you to drive down the road with an unwashed hazmat tank with an open outlet. I was stuck. It was 6:00 in the evening and it was extremely unlikely that my company could obtain the missing part before morning.

As always, it was time to ask, "Lord, why here? Why now?"

The broker yard was attended by a security guard and a representative of the broker. While I was communicating my problem with my company, there was a shift change of the broker representative. Once I determined that I was stuck for the evening, I thought it wise to walk over to the broker trailer and advise the broker's representative who had just come on duty that I would be their overnight guest.

The young man was sitting and reading. "What are you reading?" The Bible. He was reading the book of Samuel about David. His english was very bad, and my spanish is nearly non-existent, but for the next hour we had a delightful time of fellowship. I fetched my bible from the truck. As verses came to mind I would find the reference in my bible and then he would look them up in his bible. We then prayed for each other. I prayed in English. He prayed in Spanish.

I was able to gather that he was a new convert, that he had recently been released from prison, that he had a wife and child, that he attended a church in Brownsville, and that he loved to read the scriptures. He had been praying for a job and had started this job the day before.

I am convinced that God shut me down at that freight broker's yard at that time so that we might encourage each other in the Lord.

So much for that two week jaunt. Time would fail me to tell of God's small mercies in seeing that I traveled safely. I am home now for 4th of July weekend. Tomorrow (it is July 7 as I finish this post) it is back in the truck. I never like the part of getting back in the truck, but it is the job God has provided at this point in time.

If time permits I will write about the other time, the winter before last when the jumper cables served as a witnessing tool.

June 14

It is 9:00 p.m., Saturday night, June 14. I am sitting at the Pilot truckstop in Muscogee, Oklahoma. I have been sitting here for 24 hours. I will continue to sit here until about 11:00 a.m. before pulling up stakes and heading south.

Why am I sitting? In the trucking business there are "hiccups". Someone at headquarters received an order for three truckloads of potassium hydroxide to load Friday in southwest Iowa and deliver Monday 100 miles north of Houston. I "happened" to be in the St. Louis area, close enough to head to Iowa for loading, and we do not keep many drivers in the West central region. But the mileage from load point to delivery point is only 700+ miles, I had nearly three days to deliver, and that means sitting. Sometimes you can relay the load for a local driver to deliver, but this load is not appropriate for relay for several reasons, none of which need be explained right now.

The company takes some of the pain out of sitting by paying layover pay, but generally you make better money by moving. It is an old axiom in the trucking industry that you only make money when the wheels are turning. In fact, I COULD start driving now, arrive at the customer by about 04:00 a.m. (Sunday morning), and qualify for a second day's layover pay (24 hour increments of sitting in one place), but I am leary of that. The best description of my experiences driving after midnight would be "foolhardy in the extreme" (rumble strips "felt" on the shoulder, ice water splashed on the face, slapping myself to stay awake, high risk to me and to the motoring public with 78,000 lbs of hazardous liquid freight and steel rolling down the highway). Besides that, the psalmist tells me that God owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10). If my heavenly Father wants me to undertake something really, really risky and seemingly stupid for the sake of $90.00 in layover pay He is going to have to give me some very express leading. Otherwise, I think He is quite capable of providing the money that I need in some other fashion. I don't think God has been hurt in the least by rising fuel prices. I love the vision of Isaiah 6, given in the year that King Uzziah died (a time of crisis, the death of a good king) - God was still on the throne. He is STILL on the throne. He will STILL be on the throne if and when America breathes its death rattle.

I mentioned that I "happened" to be in the St. Louis area. I do not believe in luck. You will find very few references to luck (or chance) in the scriptures. Luck certainly is not the ruling principle for the believer. Psalm 37:23 states that: "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and he delighteth in his way. (None of us are good men apart from the shed bled of Christ, but that is another story). One of my favorite passages on this subject is in the book of Ruth. In chapter two, Ruth, the Moabite widow (God is so good! the Moabites were NOT a part of the covenant people! They did not deserve God's mercy! Neither did I!) is looking for a field in which to glean, with all that this implies. The Holy Spirit records that:

"And she went, and came, and gleaned in the field after the reapers:
and her "hap" was to light on the part of the field belonging unto
Boaz, who was of the kindred of Elimilech."

The Modern King James says "she happened". I love when Dr. McGee exposits this section in his five year radio program. If I remember correctly he has angels sitting on the edges of their chairs, breath held, while they watch to see what field Ruth settles in. But McGee tells us there is no suspense. God knew all along. God ordered Ruth's steps. Ruth HAD to come to the field of Boaz to meet this man who would be the great or great-great grandfather of David.

The same God who put Ruth in the field of Boaz has me sitting this evening in the Muscogee Pilot. He has not changed. He will not change. The scriptures tell us so.

I should like to report that I have met many drivers, distributed many tracts, and had "divine appointments" here at the Muscogee Pilot. I cannot. I have met Freddie, a new driver from Pennsylvania. (Freddie was surprised, he asked me why I came to speak with him - I told him because I am a Christian and look for the opportunity to speak with other drivers).

I have no internet access here. I will save this and try and upload it when I hit Texas tomorrow (even then, James writes in chapter four that we know not what will happen on the morrow, so if the Lord wills, I will upload this tomorrow in Texas).

(Oh, while in St. Louis Thursday, encountering still other seemingly meaningless delays, I again was at the tankwash when Szolz, our Hungarian driver, came in, and as God would have it, I had time to chat with him. I continue to witness to Szolz and to his wife when she calls to interpret and ask questions for Szolz about the job. When I last saw Szolz in New Jersey he shared that his grandparents had been believers and how they had started every morning with the reading of the Word. I cannot help but wonder if my contact with Szolz is not in answer to the long ago prayers of long dead grandparents half a world away. That would be cool! But see, the life of a Christian is anything but boring. We shall see what God has in store tomorrow. I don't know if there will be any divine appointments tomorrow. I only know that is best to be prepared for such appointments by spending some time in God's Word before beginning the day. That is all I have to know. God is in charge of the details. And that is really, really cool as well.

June 7 - 9

I made it to Potsdam, New York, so far north that many of the radio stations I tuned in were in French Canadian.

Then I made it down to Keasbey, New Jersey with the dirty tank.

Then I pulled a loaded tank south to Fairfax, Virginia (suburban D.C.) and found the customer at night, in the rain.

There was a DOT inspection at the scale in Maryland.

Then to the second unload spot in North Augusta, South Carolina, where I found parking late at night near the customer's gate.

Then it was on to Atlanta to drop dirty trailer and pick up a new loaded trailer.

And then it was home.

Time would fail me to tell of God's rich grace and mercy along the way. I am so often amazed, so often humbled.

Three days at home with the family. Too short. Then it will be off again tomorrow morning.