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.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Friday, August 22, 2008
August 22
It is Friday evening. I am in Atlanta at my company's terminal. The company has ordered me to proceed to Port St. Joe, Florida, tomorrow to drop an empty trailer and then to pick up a loaded trailer Sunday morning. Sometimes I think my company is run by madmen. Tropical storm Fay should arrive at Port St. Joe about the time that I arrive. I have visions in my mind of having to lash myself to a tree to keep from getting blown away, and then having to outswim a hungry alligator in deep flood waters.
It is a good time to remember that I hold this job only at God's good pleasure. If the Master wants me to be fired or to wreck the truck, then He can accomplish that at any time. I will exercise what prudence I can muster and after that God is in charge.
To my company, which goes through drivers like most people change socks, I am a disposable asset. It is good to remember that God does not look at His children that way.
My company misplaces assets from time to time. We get messages asking: "Has anyone seen trailer number such-and-such?". My God does not misplace things. He knows every hair on my head. He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground. The scripture tells me so and I see evidence in creation (while driving the truck) of a God whose intelligence and creativity are incomprehensible.
It is good to remember these things. We serve a risen saviour.
Meanwhile, my wife and youngest daughter are at home sewing doll clothes.
It is a good time to remember that I hold this job only at God's good pleasure. If the Master wants me to be fired or to wreck the truck, then He can accomplish that at any time. I will exercise what prudence I can muster and after that God is in charge.
To my company, which goes through drivers like most people change socks, I am a disposable asset. It is good to remember that God does not look at His children that way.
My company misplaces assets from time to time. We get messages asking: "Has anyone seen trailer number such-and-such?". My God does not misplace things. He knows every hair on my head. He knows every sparrow that falls to the ground. The scripture tells me so and I see evidence in creation (while driving the truck) of a God whose intelligence and creativity are incomprehensible.
It is good to remember these things. We serve a risen saviour.
Meanwhile, my wife and youngest daughter are at home sewing doll clothes.
Monday, August 18, 2008
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.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
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!
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!
Sunday, July 27, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, July 4, 2008
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.
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.
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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.
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