Friday, July 26, 2013

A New Pair of Boots

This morning I got a ride from Belgrade to the intersection of I-90 and U.S. 287 near Three Forks, Montana.  I walked north on U.S. 287 for two or more miles and saw this concrete culvert in the distance.  Since I didn't get much sleep the night before (I slept in a gravel pit), I thought that I would roll out my sleeping bag inside the culvert and take a nap out of the sun.

I walked down into the ditch, stepped into the culvert and saw these boots laying on the concrete slab.  The boots I had been wearing were really wore out, torn up, had lots of holes in them--my left boot had some duct tape on it holding it together--they looked more like glorified sandals than boots.

I put down my backpack, took off my old boots and put on my new boots.  They were pretty tight-fitting--but they looked virtually brand new with a little dried mud on the soles.

I thanked the Lord for the new boots and rolled out my sleeping bag on the concrete slab.  I took a nap for almost an hour and then loaded up my backpack and hit the road.

I walked north for half a mile and put down my backpack on the side of the road.  This guy picked me up and took me to Townsend where he dropped me off and gave me a loaf of bread.  I was very grateful.


  1. Cool how God supplies our every need!

    I still consider your life experiences as some of the most exciting I have ever heard...

  2. I thought it was pretty funny. I was going to roll out my sleeping bag in the culvert to take a nap and I find a pair of new boots. Sometimes the Lord throws you a curve ball.

    The boots are a size 10; I usually wear a size 11.5 or a 12, so they are a bit tight--my feet are sore, but I think the boots will stretch out in the long run.

  3. Well, I broke down and went to the local thrift store here in Dubois, Wy and bought a pair of used boots (size 12--thank you, Lord!); they cost 4 bucks; I gave the store my other boots. My feet were way too sore and I couldn't walk in those other boots anymore (and I was carrying a 55 pound backpack).

    So what can we glean from this Tale of Two Pairs of Boots? Maybe the Lord wanted me to wear those boots I found in Montana till I got to Dubois. Maybe in the next few weeks, someone will need a pair of size 10 boots and they will find it at the thrift store.

    Also, if someone suggests that a walk a mile in his boots, I am going to make sure they are a size 12.