Showing posts with label Flagstaff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Flagstaff. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Rock Springs, Wyoming to Barstow, California



Dreams from the LORD 2007-2010
7 March 2008

A little over a week ago, I was walking south of Rock Springs, Wyoming on U.S. 191 when this vehicle pulled over. This guy was Pastor Rich Carlson and we had some pretty intense fellowship for the fourteen miles of a ride he gave me. Pastor Carlson prayed for me and gave me a little money for the road.

I walked for three or four miles and this truck driver picked me up. I got in the cab of the tractor-trailer and he looked at me and said something like, “Aren’t you done hitchhiking all over the place and spreading the Word?” I recognized him right away; he had picked me up over a year ago on the same stretch of road. He later told me that he was a pagan. We didn’t talk about much. Later, just before he dropped me off, we talked a little about Dostoyevsky, and things Russian; he told me how to properly pronounce “Dostoyevsky” and “Karamazov”—at least, how the Russians pronounce it.

He dropped me off in Vernal, Utah where I slept in the post office that night. It got down to maybe ten degrees that night, so it was nice to sleep in a warm place for the night. Somebody phoned the police that I was sleeping in the post office because I was woke up around eleven that night by a couple of police officers. They checked my ID and let me sleep in the post office that night. I told them that I would leave as soon as possible the next morning.

I then hitchhiked from Vernal and made it to Helper, Utah where I stayed at a shelter for three nights. From Helper, I made it to Mexican Hat, Utah where I slept in a junked pickup camper for the night. The next day, I got good rides through Kayenta and Tuba City to Flagstaff, Arizona where a guy named Tim picked me up.

He was driving one of those big motor homes from Iowa to southern California. Tim said that the motor home he was driving was worth $270,000.00. He told me that he was in a car crash up in Iowa that involved the car he was riding in and two tractor-trailers. He said that this tractor-trailer ahead of him on the interstate had jack-knifed and the guy driving their car lost control and the car began spinning around and this tractor-trailer came up from behind them and it looked like they were going to be crushed. If I remember right, Tim said that this powerful force threw their car into the ditch. Tim said that his mind still had not accepted the fact that he was still alive. He thought for sure that they were going to be crushed to death by the two tractor-trailers. I told him that the Lord preserved him in that crash because He had plans for him. We stopped to eat near Kingman, Arizona. Tim dropped me off just outside of Barstow, California where I slept in my tent just off Highway 58.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Washing Dishes


A year or two ago I was hitchhiking across the Navajo Indian Reservation in northeast Arizona and I got a couple of rides to Flagstaff. It was during the winter and it was going to get cold that night (maybe around 0 degrees F), so I stayed at a Christian mission in downtown Flagstaff.

They have a well-run mission there. After 5 PM, one of the leaders would give a Gospel message and then we would have supper. After supper, we would shower and then go to bed. They have a dorm room upstairs; I believe they have beds for twenty men.

So the next morning we were eating our breakfast and one of the leaders asked everybody, "So who wants to volunteer to wash dishes?"

Immediately, I raised my right hand and said that I could wash the dishes. The leader smiled at me, walked over to me and patted me on the back.

Then the leader asked, "Who wants to help Tim wash the dishes?"

Nobody raised their hand.

The leader looked at this guy and asked, "Hey, Hank, why don't you help Tim wash the dishes."

Hank replied with a look of disgust, "Now that is not a Christ-like thing to say." Which meant he didn't want to wash the dishes.

So the leader said, "Well, Hank, if you don't want to wash the dishes then go back outside." And Hank left the mission.

I just about couldn't believe what I had heard. Washing the dishes is a very simple, easy job. And your hands get cleaned in the process. Hank got a free meal and couldn't wash the dishes. Ingratitude comes in different wrappers.

I was very grateful that that Christian mission let me stay there out of the cold for one night. They preached a good message the evening before, I had a great supper, I was able to take a shower and sleep in a warm bed and then have an excellent breakfast the next morning. If someone wants me to wash the dishes, then I'll wash dishes till the cows come home!

Once I was hitchhiking through Pennsylvania and this guy picked me up. He had a used auto dealership and asked me if I wanted to help drive a car from one town to the next. I said, no problem. Then he said, let's go to this mission and get some lunch. He usually recruited guys from that mission to drive cars for him.

So we signed in at this mission--I believe it was in York, Pennsylvania. I was the last guy in line and the guy ahead of me was definitely a street person. He had a real bad attitude. He kept complaining about the food: "I don't like this crap. Why do I have eat this junk? Don't you guys know how to cook a meal?" And words to that effect.

So I went through the line and thanked everyone for the great meal and smiled at everyone. Redemption sometimes happens in soup lines.

That street person didn't pay for his meal, didn't prepare it, didn't volunteer to help in anyway, but he sure complained to everyone there about the food. Then go outside and eat grass!

Nobody there asked me to help wash the dishes, so I hung out with the used auto guy for a while and then moseyed out west on U.S 30.

[Originally published by Digihitch.com]