Random Thoughts From The Road

Life is a trip. God has put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation. To see how the whole story began click here. I haven't counted, but I've probably visited 40+ states in my life. I still haven't found one to match my own (the mountains of Colorado run a close second.) If you can't get close to God on the Blue Ridge Parkway, you are probably going to have a hard time getting close to Him anywhere. Arkansas has the worst interstate highways I've ever been on. There's irony in the fact that a past president was a past governor there. Crossing the Mississippi at Memphis doesn't make it seem so mighty. There are so many small islands that you seem to be crossing several smaller rivers. I've never seen a city that looks good from an interstate highway running through it. Nothing's changed that opinion on this trip. In Texas, cows seem to have more living area than most people. Speaking of cows, I passed several very large cattle feeding lots. Someone should suggest that old cemetaries be used for that. Surely the dead are the only ones who can stand the odor. Oklahoma seems to have an average of 1 casino for every 2 exits off of I-40. This is a good state for anyone with a gambling addiction to stay well away from. I saw a couple of what seemed to me to be large wind turbine farms. At least, there were lots of fans turning. They seem to be randomly placed and pretty far from each other. I wonder why. Although I saw the entrances to several ranches, I couldn't see the ranch houses. Each entry gate displayed the brand. Do we still brand cows or just use ear tags now? Do the ear tags have the brand icon? Oklahoma has (and I saw it from the highway) what is advertised as the largest cross in the western hemisphere. I couldn't help but wonder why you would want to build something like that ("Ha, my cross means I honor God more than you do.") and how many people the funds would have fed, clothed, and educated. I drove about 50 miles on the original Route 66 concrete highway. In the west, it is dead straight and hugs the contours of the land. Two lanes the whole way, I can't imagine the traffic. I read that, during the Dust Bowl, Oklahoma lost about 60,000 in population, mostly to California via Route 66. Can you imagine doing that today with no a/c, no DVDs for the kids, and none of the other things we take so much for granted. With no internet, when you got hungry you looked for a restaurant and when it was time to sleep, you looked for a motel. Tucumcari has about 40 motels, of which, only 20 are still operating and Tucumcari is right on the interstate. Closing 66 put an end to a lot of dreams I suppose. One last thought... I am a creature of habit. Toilet paper has to come off the front of the roll, not the back. The toilet seat has to be left down (1 mother, 3 sisters, 1 wife and 1 granddaughter - I've learned!) My cell phone has to be put into my right front pocket. On a trip, Sara has to repack our suitcase in the morning while I get the coffee. Why is it that I can't seem to get everything back into it the same way it came out? I bought the t-shirt today, so that can't be the problem. The next trip, Sara is going to have to come, like it or not. I don't have time to spend worrying about how to pack neatly. It is 7:30 here and still bright daylight. At home it is 10:30. My watch is on time, but my brain is running fast. I am pooped so this is all for now. The adventure really begins next week, so follow along as you will. Peace and Love, Ross

A Creep of Faith

Life is a trip. God has put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation. To see how the whole story began click here. Did you ever watch a very careful person prepare to go swimming in an icy lake? They approach the edge most slowly; no dashing into the water for them. They don't even want to take the chance of getting splashed before they are ready. They carefully dip one big toe in, quickly draw it back out and shake the water off. They stand there for a moment considering the differences between how cold the water is and how much they want to go swimming. Here they go! One step. Two steps. All the way up to their knees. They stop and look longingly back to the shore. There is still time to turn back, but how badly will that damage their pride if anyone is watching? Continuing to advance all the way up to their waist, it is time now to make the 'get your head wet' decision. Is it best to splash a little bit of the ice cold water on their chest, under their arm pits, and then on their face, or do they finally suck up all of their courage and take a big dip or a dive all the way under? Either way, there is a bit of sputtering and gasping and then, look, they're in! The water is still cold. Their lips begin to turn blue. But, by golly, they've done it. They are in swimming. Folks talk about making a "leap of faith." For me, committing to missionary service with the Navajo has been a "creep of faith." I'm just like the person entering the icy lake water. First, I stick my big toe in. This doesn't mean actually listening carefully to the still, small voice of the Holy Spirit. What if, instead, I just ask a few close friends what they think of the idea? They know me well. They wouldn't lead me astray, would they? The majority seem to be at least somewhat in favor of me taking the next step. I hear a lot of, "Are you crazy!? Well, you might as well do what you feel like you need to do." I wade in cautiously up to my knees. I'm talking to my pastoral staff about what I believe to be a calling and asking for their advice. They are kind enough to leave off the, "Are you crazy?" part of the response and help me to pray and to begin listening more carefully to the voice of the Holy Spirit. They help me to search for actual opportunities to be in service to God. Oops! An opportunity shows up and it sounds like it is made for a person with my desires to serve and my few gifts. I can still turn back to shore, but at what cost to my selfish pride? More prayers and quiet meditation. An interview. An offering to accept a position of service. I am now in the icy water up to my waist. God has pointed a way for me to go. The only decision left is the 'head' decision. I can go with the church group for a week and sort of splash my way in or I can take a deep breath, say a fervent prayer, and take that big plunge, going for months of service. I decide to immerse myself all at once and I dive in. The shock of the icy water, of someone like me presumming that God really wants me to serve, takes my breath away. The thrill of God being always with me quickly dispells the bit of fear that I feel. The water is still very cold and my lips will still turn blue, but I know that God will hold me close, keep me safe, and allow me the shear joy of swimming in the waters of service. That, my friends, is where I am on my "creep of faith." I am committed. On Tuesday morning, I will hug my Sara so tightly that I'll be able to feel myself holding her for miles and miles and, I hope, for days and days. She will go east to her job and I will go west across almost 3/4 of the United States to mine. I'll have to be careful driving for the first few miles, because there are sure to be tears in my eyes. John Denver wrote in a song, "How can I leave you again? I must be clear out of my mind." Sometimes, I wholeheartedly agree. Already, I find myself lying awake at night, anxious because I know that in just a short time I won't be able to reach out and just touch her in order to calm my fears and share my concerns. I pray that God will be with her, protect her, and let her know every single day how much I love her. God gave me Sara and surely, He will keep her for me. I leave other family and friends who are so very important to me. For one reason or another, there are probably some that I won't see again in this world. Layoffs, education, and other opportunities will always create movement. Some family and friends are older than me and may be called home before my return. My prayer is that, whether they just move or actually leave this world, they will know I love them and anticipate the day we will be together again. I leave my church: the body of Christ. I know that I will miss those members and friends on Sunday morning, Monday evening, and even in those doggone committee meetings. I am equally certain that they will support me; with gifts, if possible and with prayers always. This might sound a little maudlin, but I don't mean it that way. I'm excited! God's time is not our time, so maybe I'm making a leap of faith after all. Look out, Navajo Nation, here comes God's servant! Peace and Love, Ross

Go, Cat, Go

Life is a trip. God has put me on the road to service in the Navajo Nation. To see how the whole story began click here. Country music great, Carl Perkins, first wrote and recorded "Blue Suede Shoes" in 1956. The opening line reads, "Well, it's one for the money... Two for the show... Three to get ready... Now go, cat, go. For a couple of months now, I've thought that I would never get to the "go, cat, go" stage of my Navajo mission trip. Now, with just over two weeks to go, I'm working hard on the "Three to get ready" step. I've been making lists and checking them twice. I've already packed a couple of boxes of books (no TV for me!) and started using the guest bedroom as a staging area. The summer months alone would not be too hard to pack for, but since I fully expect not to come home until at least Thanksgiving, I have to prepare for cold weather as well. Every time I think I have it all together, someone (usually my Sara) asks me if I've thought of something I haven't even considered. I've erased my lists so many times, they are beginning to feel like Kleenex. A couple of out-of-the-ordinary things have happened to / for me and I want to share them with you. Farmington, New Mexico is a town of less than 20 thousand. It is the largest town near Shiprock and is located about 30 miles to the east. As continuing proof that God works in mysterious ways, I've already made a friend in Farmington. About a month ago, I was on Facebook hoping to find a friend and fellow church member. I didn't find her, but I did find someone with the same name who was listed as living in Farmington. I emailed her, told her a bit about who I am and what I am going to be doing, and asked if she minded being asked some serious and some not-so-serious questions. We've exchanged several emails since that time. She teaches gifted children and, I suspect, that she thinks I wouldn't qualify for her classes. However, she has been very upfront about answering anything I thought to ask. For example, I now know that her classes are about 1/3 Navajo, 1/3 Anglo, and 1/3 Latino. This poses some interesting teaching problems for her and, in the larger arena, poses some political problems for the area. She does not speak Navajo although she has taken classes. She says, "Navajo is incredibly difficult and almost impossible to learn. The sounds used in the language are very different from sounds used in English. The structure of the language is extremely complex. Words build not only at the beginning and the end (prefixes and suffixes), but also in the middle. The language doesn't include articles (a, an, the) or plurals or verb tenses (those are figured out in context.) Also, Navajo is a very visual language and many nouns are actually descriptive phrases and quite long." The country is wide open and she tells me that people out there approach distance very differently from what we would do. "We'll go to Albuquerque and back (360 miles round trip) in the same day to attend meetings, go to a medical specialist, pick up parts, etc. So the 30 miles from Shiprock to Farmington is considered to be in the same neighborhood." Just in case any of you have the idea that I'll be totally isolated, she's set my mind at ease. At least in Farmington, I'm not sure of Shiprock, there are independent pizza parlors, Chinese restaurants, movie theaters, and legitimate theater and symphony. The high schools have active athletic programs and Farmington even has a semi-pro football team. There are two Walmarts in Farmington, but none in Shiprock. The best news that she was able to share with me is that both grits and Jif peanut butter are available without me having to drive much more than 60 miles round trip! I really look forward to meeting Susan and her husband. The great thing that has happened for me is the results of the silent auction held as a part of this year's mission fair. The financial results were great enough to pay for another month of my stay in the Navajo Nation. I had great help in setting up the auction and in monitoring it as the time passed. I hesitate to try to name all of those who so kindly donated items to be sold. I'm afraid that I might miss someone and I really wouldn't want that to happen. As I write this, I'm not sure how the powers-that-be at Maple Springs feel about me touting the businesses who so kindly donated to a person that they didn't know, at a church they didn't attend, for a missions project they didn't know much about, but I'm going to try to let you know who they are so you can support their businesses. We had 40+ items and sold all but one of them. I'll be writing thank you notes to the majority of the donors, trying to express just how much their support meant to me. I guess that's it for now. Love and Peace Ross