On the Road to...

A New Opportunity

2011-08-20T16:22:00.000-06:00

As of Wednesday, August 10, I officially started my position as a "Math Fellow" at Denver Public Schools - specifically, Denver Center for International Studies (DCIS) at Montbello.

The Denver Math Fellows are tutors for students at 7 schools in DPS under a program (through Blueprint Schools Network) to turn around low-performing schools. Each student at these 7 schools will have one hour of math tutoring every day for the whole year. I will have the same twelve 6th grade students (2 at a time) every day.

How it Happened

In June, I had an itch to see if I could find any substitute teaching positions in the Denver area to supplement my income while I continue work developing the non-profit Compassion by the Book. I have survived on about $4,000 of savings the past year and worked solely as a volunteer founding and getting CBTB off the ground. However, a series of events (namely a car breakdown) resulted in my savings drying up more quickly than expected in May.

So, as I explored websites for subbing jobs, on the third website (DPS's), I found the Denver Math Fellows program. I applied, attended a screening event, interviewed, participated in a mock tutorial session with a real-life 6th grader, and was notified I would be hired the next day!

What's Next?

My salary and benefits as a DPS employee will help me continue to work on Compassion by the Book. I will be working on CBTB nights and weekends and have already found a renewed focus everytime I get home to expand and develop CBTB. Since I will have greater financial security, I will not have to start fundraising a salary with CBTB prematurely and can continue to focus the majority of my efforts on the textbook fundraising program.

I appreciate all the efforts of my friends and family to help me follow my dreams this last year (especially my parents, who have allowed me to live at home, store thousands of books, and have kept me fed). I am thankful now for this opportunity to touch the lives of young students at DCIS and to continue my efforts with Compassion by the Book.

The Mountain

2011-08-13T23:28:00.000-06:00

I go to my mountain
when I need to be alone with God.
When I need to leave the world.

I bask in his presence there.
He takes my yoke from me.
I sing, I run, I dance.
I rest in peace.

There I go to be free.
I wish I could be on my mountain all the time.
But I must remember
his presence never leaves me.

I go to cry too.
I connect with myself.
Where I am.
Where I have been.

There is no hiding there.
There is no need.
His love pervades all.
No where can I go that he is not.

I remember what matters there.
I cannot be distracted.
I meet my maker
and die to the world.

Oh that I could live
forever on the mountain.

2 Years with Cynthia

2011-04-04T21:01:00.000-06:00

Yesterday marked two years since I asked Cynthia to be my girlfriend. It was the perfect weather to celebrate. We had a record high of 84 degrees on Saturday and yesterday, Sunday, we had snow. It was a wonderful re-creation of our first night as a couple.

We decided to go back where I first asked her out, but before we left, I wanted to share my journal entry from the day following. This is how I recounted the experience.

April 4, 2009 ~7 pm
---
...

Jump ahead to last night and early this morning. I went on another date with Cynthia. We were supposed to go to an art gallery of the sister of her friend Ana. That sort of fell through. I met her friend Sid, had Spanish Tortilla (which she cooked at her dorm), and drove out to Golden instead.

Rather crazily, we decided to go on a hike in the snow and in the dark. It was cold, hard to walk (because it was slick), and totally fantastic. We went up to the M because I know it very well. We walked up to the top left corner (on the outside of the fence) and embraced for a very long time. Early on in the embrace (perhaps
"barely" 11 pm) I nervously told her I needed to talk to her sometime. She nudged me on by saying "okay, when?" "I suppose now is as good as any time," I continued.

The snow was fluctuating between light and hard. We were fairly warm there together. Down the hill, where you can see Golden and Denver on a clear night, we were surrounded by a cloud that obscured all but two lights. Until suddenly the clouds would break a little revealing what looked like constellations below. When it was just the two lights I felt like we might have been out at sea suddenly coming into view of a lighthouse. It was quiet except for our voices, the wind, the snow, and the occasional car. Well, I suppose I could hear the highway off in the distance. "Well, okay. I'm pretty nervous," I said.

She said, "I make you nervous?"
"No, I make me nervous. I don't know what I'm doing."
"It's okay, don't be nervous."
"Okay. I really like you and I really like spending time with you."
"I really like you too."

The rest of the dialogue is a little fuzzy. I proceeded to explain that I have no experience in having girlfriends and that was why I was nervous. She reassured me she thought I was doing fine. We talked there a long time. She talked about her experience in relationships... she hasn't had many boyfriends either. After probably a half an hour we started to make our descent. On the way down I explained that that was probably the closest to a DTR that I could do.

"Are you going to ask me?" She said.
I said, "Ummm. Yes." (and I thought, "you dummy, ask her then") "Okay," I continued, "would you be... or would you like to be considered as my girlfriend?"

I was so nervous. This is virgin territory for me. I knew she was interested, but I was nervous because I really don't know what being a boyfriend exactly implies... She said "it means you don't kiss other girls." She went on that we would have a Christ-centered relationship and we would pray for guidance about what this would all be like. Did I ever mention I like this girl? I had been having the exact same desires in the past few weeks as I was thinking about what a relationship should be like. We had made it back to the established path by then. The snow was at its thickest then.

When we made it back to the car, someone drove up from the opposite direction. They were slowing down. ("What the heck," I was thinking). Did the lights flash on or did the cop just come out and start talking to us? I don't remember. He asked if we'd had anything to drink. "No," we both answered. He went into a spiel about underaged drinking. "I'm 22." He continued.

"What are you guys doing?"
"We were hiking."
"At this time of night? In this weather?"
"Yeah."

I was a bit sheepish, it was obviously dangerous and foolish. I explained about the flashlight that wouldn't work, that I was in Blue Key and knew the M well, and in general was a blabbering fool. He relaxed his demeanor and explained why this was a bad idea and how if he was from Jeffco instead I'd probably be getting a ticket. He was actually very nice by the end and just warned us to be careful on the way down because visibility was poor and there were many accidents.

Eventually Cynthia and I made it back to Regis where we sat and talked for more than an hour (until past 2 am). I was nervous again. Should I kiss her? I was a chicken. I was open with my fears. We talked about boundaries (and what better time than to discuss this before any barrier is breached). She was holding my hand.

"Is holding hands okay?" she asked me.
"Yes," I chuckled.
"Sex is off limits," she said at some point - which I know that she knew I was on the same level with her.
"I'm okay with kissing, I think," I told her.
"Me too."

She sat in what I thought must be an uncomfortable position the whole time (though she denied any discomfort at all) so that she could rest against my chest. Our hands were intertwined and her's were caressing mine. My heart was thudding hard in my chest. We talked a long time. She looked so pretty and the look she would give me dazzled me. Her mascara was sort of a bit lower than I expected - maybe it ran down just a little bit in the snow. She wore grey sweatpants and a turquoise hoodie. She wore tennis shoes on the hike. Her lower legs were positively soaked in the car. That's why she was cold. But she didn't really even mention anything about cold (even when I asked her).

I walked her to the outside of her dorm. I was chicken or I wasn't ready (probably the latter), so I said goodbye with a tight hug. No kiss yet, but I'm not afraid of when it will happen.

That's good enough for now. I have a girlfriend for the first time ever. My motivations are pure, she is sweet and beautiful, and it is well.
---

Presentation at Regis

2011-03-22T14:45:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, I had the honor of speaking in a class at Regis University. The class focuses on a leadership model called the "Social Change Model" developed at UCLA in 1993 and the teachers asked me to share about my experience working on Compassion by the Book (CBTB).

Since I was unfamiliar with the Social Change Model, I met with the teachers to discuss the course content and to ask how they would like me to focus my presentation to best help the students. They asked that I share my experience, struggles, and motivation. Hopefully my presentation demonstrated the values of Compassion by the Book and the process outlined by the Social Change Model.

My presentation is below. Hit the "play" button and after it loads, click on the "More" button to expand the presentation to full screen. Then use the play button to navigate from point-to-point (you can also use the left and right arrow keys on your keyboard).

Regis Social Change Presentation on Prezi

A Fresh Start, A Clean Heart

2011-03-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

I'm wearing a white shirt. That's symbolic, you know. I just took an epsom salt bath. That's symbolic too.

The symbols might not be too obvious, but I put on my clean white shirt after the bath that helped me sweat out the toxins and I couldn't help but feel like the attire matched my renewed, fresh, pure, and unburdened spirit at that moment.

The toxins are gone and I want this cleansing to symbolize my life, of which, one of the biggest toxins is complacency.

It started as a decision to take a bath because I am going to be sacrificing long showers for the next 40 days for Lent. By the end of my bath, I had decided that a lot of other things need to be cleaned up in my life.

Even though I have told some people that I don't like to use Lent as an excuse to give up things I already should not be doing, I understand that like the New Year, Lent can be a positive change agent. I won't commit to a forever change, but for the next 40 days a cleansing should be a nice step out of complacency.

Here are some areas I am going to clean up starting now:

1) No more TV. What else could I do with that time? How is TV being constructive in my life?
2) No long showers. I know they are relaxing, but not necessary. I may only save a small amount of water, but my awareness of my consumption increases. I become more grateful for my blessings.
3) No sweets. I need to eat healthier. More fruits when I have a sweet tooth.
4) Spend at least 30 minutes exercising daily.
5) Spend at least 30 minutes of quiet time (away from distractions).

Flora, Illinois

2009-08-06T09:29:00.003-06:00

It was surprisingly warm and muggy in the tent. I have no doubt that is in part due to the greater humidity coming from the lake 100 feet away from us and also the combined body heat of the two of us. It was warm enough that I could have slept without my sleeping bag. I was uncomfortably damp. I remember some sprinkles coming down on the tent cover overhead, either from the sky or dropping from the sparse canopy above. It was gentle.

I can't seem to sleep all night when I go camping. Tom was rustling around rather frequently and I was restless too. At one point, Tom was scratching in his sleep (probably his feet, he has some eczema that he scratches before bedtime), but he stopped after I simply said "Tom." Sleep was off and on all night and it wasn't good quality rest like when we stayed in homes, but it was what it was.

I woke up around 5am (on purpose; I had set my alarm) and went outside to pack, glad to be awake. It was cool and dark (not like night, though. Like the first light of dawn), but less damp outside the tent. In my sleepiness, I decided that my first priority lie in rearranging all the belongings I had because I stored the tent at the bottom of my bag and had to take everything out just to remove the tent. After contemplating the organization of my stuff, I rode my bicycle over to the camp's bathrooms because they were way too "far" to walk to. I completed my morning routine of washing my face and brushing my teeth and rode back to camp. On the ride back, I passed Carol's camper and noticed some signs of life coming from within, hearing the television and rustling inside. Carol was to provide us with breakfast, God bless her.

Tom woke up not long after I returned and emerged from the tent. We were on a mission to leave the grounds by about 7:30am since the campsite was so far from Carlyle's downtown and because we had to inflate our tires. I noticed my tires were looking flat (still with air, but certainly not the nice, round shape that is appropriate) the day before, but just continued, perhaps foolishly, for time's sake. That said, we had planned to start our day by inflating our tires at a nearby gas station.

We packed the tent and prepped our bikes and rode to breakfast. Carol brought out some cereal and apples and bananas at 7:00am and we chatted and enjoyed the morning. We were visited by a cardinal and two other birds who made their home under the pull-out leaf of Carol's camper. I had Cheerios and my apple and saved my banana for later.

And once again we were underway. The ride out of the park went very fast. I had plenty of energy and I felt like I knew what to expect. When we hit the first main road towards Carlyle we were slowed down by a headwind from the south, but at least the sun was out and covered the land with a golden glow. We passed up Wal-Mart (once again for time's sake) because I figured I could just use Tom's toothpaste, but stopped at the gas station as planned, filled the tires, and I went inside and happily found a small tube of toothpaste to purchase.

To be continued...

Carlyle, Illinois part 2

2009-07-31T10:11:00.008-06:00

We were not on Highway 50 at all that day. Instead, we were on State Route 161, a road paralleling 50 to the south. The plan was to head north sometime since Carlyle was right off 50. When we rode into Bartelso we found a beautiful Catholic church called St. Cecilia and ate a snack.

It was overcast and cool (in a good way). I want to say I ate grapes, but the memory's shady. A man was working on lawn care and nearby a girl and her father were examining a tree in the courtyard. I walked around the church, finding it lovely. Since I was checking the map on my cell phone frequently that day, I pulled it out again and looked for directions to Carlyle... where would we turn north? My phone gave us unexpected and new directions taking a shortcut on Slant Rd., which chipped a little over three miles from our day's trip. We were going to stay on 161 until 127 and go north. I'm glad I happened to be checking the route as often as I was (on my phone) that day because our host was much further away than anticipated (seven extra miles). Anyways, enough with the logistics.

Slant Rd. was a beautiful short cut. The sun came out to greet us (for a ten minute respite from the overcast skies) and we were surprised by picturesque scenery here in the middle of nowhere. There were a couple houses and some fields (which might not sound all that exciting, but hey, beauty is in the eye of the beholder).

There was maybe one car on the whole stretch of road and everything was at peace. One house advertised some sort of fresh food products... I wish I could be more specific (I think there was goat cheese and some strawberries). Often times, I felt under pressure that I could not stop and do some exploring because Tom was with me and I believe I subconsciously knew that he was more of a destination sort of guy and I am a journey guy... that said, we did not take many pit stops along the way to just check out places. Just snap a picture and move on. I thought to myself that if I ever came back, I would go into that little store and try some of their food.

At the end of Slant Rd. we turned on 127 north and soon enough I could see a church steeple (barely seen in the distance in the photo below) and other tell tale signs of a city in the distance (increased traffic and something about the way the trees are clustered around a town).

I thought we were home free once we were in the city. Based on the directions from Carol (our host for that night) I thought we'd have maybe three more miles to go. The miles dragged on and it was another seven from the city to the campground at Eldon Hazlet State Park. I think it was because I wasn't expecting to ride that much further that I became slightly agitated (probably a little frustrated and impatient). I just wanted to be there already. We only traveled 62 miles that day, which is not too exhausting, but when a surprise like seven extra miles comes up, I tend to get a little impatient. That was another 45 minutes to ride. Not to mention, because of the time zone change in southern Indiana (it was close to 4 pm in Illinois, which means it was close to 5pm - closing time, if we were lucky it wasn't sooner - in Illinois) we had to stop for 30 minutes to make phone calls trying to arrange for a place to stay in Vincennes and Bedford, Indiana.

For Vincennes, I left messages with a voicemail, reached another church who told us they couldn't help, and spoke with the son of the pastor of the third and final church on our list. The church was Central Church of Christ and the boy's name was Benjamin. I quickly explained our situation to Ben and he told me he'd pass the message on to his father. Having exhausted the numbers for Vincennes, I started on the list of churches in Bedford and I left voicemail messages with the two churches. Next, I tried the number for St. Vincent de Paul's Catholic Church and I was forwarded by the secretary to Father Rick. Somehow, and I can't explain just how, but somehow, I felt right about St. Vincent de Paul's.

As we finally continued through the State Park, I felt like the land was strangely deserted and even a bit eerie. Maybe it was the lack of traffic going into the park or the weather (on the brink of sprinkling) or the scarcity of animal and insect movement or my dreading camping. Maybe it was just the unknown and exhaustion. It could be that I had just gotten off the phone with few leads, which may have left me feeling a little bit alone. Now I recall needing to make some purchases (such as toothpaste), but passing by a Wal-Mart thinking that I could easily return if necessary... that could have added to my somber mood (it soon became clear that a trip to Wal-Mart would not be easy given its distance from the park - roughly seven miles one way) because perhaps I felt isolated from humanity. No matter. We trudged on.

In truth, the park was pretty. There was water and trees and two herons. I saw a deer scamper through the woods later. Oddly enough, there weren't many mosquitoes. I'm not complaining about that. I rode tentatively forward, not knowing what was ahead. I was very concentrated on getting us safely to our destination for whatever reason.

Finally, we hit the campground parking lot. I felt a little more secure. After a minute of observing the campground map we rode to our host's home, a popup camper. Carol was waiting outside for us.

Carol was very focused (this was her workplace too and there was business to take care of getting us set up in an appropriate plot of land). I don't remember exchanging many pleasantries. I think she didn't quite know what to think of us guys on bicycles traveling across the country. She told us that Pastor Wagner spoke with the church about us and said we had a tent and so she thought she could help us. She paid for our land ($8) and gave us the "bicycle love offering" ($35) collected by the church. It was clear that she wanted to help us and even though she was not naturally outgoing, she welcomed us and loved us (whether she knows it or not) and I am very grateful for that. She said that she didn't know what we'd like to eat and that she didn't have much food, so she made us a beef and vegetable soup for supper. She sent us off to set up our tent and come back for supper afterwards.

I had to dig deep in my bags and disturb my spectacular packing job to get out the tent. This was the first and only time we'd use it, so I guess I can be glad that I brought the thing. With Tom's help it was up in no time. Camping is much more Tom's territory than mine. I believe Tom was expecting that we'd camp much more often than we did, hence he originally packed a camp stove (which we shipped back to Colorado after our stop in Topeka, KS). Tom was in his element. He was a mountain man in the flatland woods and I was a fish out of water. I could tell he could rough it more than I would ever want to. This place might have been heaven for Tom. I'm glad we only camped one night ;).

We ate supper with Carol and learned a bit about her. She's from the Apostolic church, but she has found a community she likes at the Church of God and she likes the pastor. Her husband and she used to travel with the camper from Carlyle to Florida during the different seasons, but now she does it alone. She has a lot of descendents (she's the first great great grandmother I've ever met!) and gets to do tours among them to visit everyone (she stays with each of her children for two weeks and moves to the next during the winter).

She seemed relegated or succumbed to a certain lot in life, doing what she could to keep busy, but not entirely happy either. Perhaps that had to do with her husband's passing. She had a strong commitment to her place as a member of the Apostolic denomination, but that confidence did not overflow into the rest of her being. I thought I sensed that something in her life was not at peace. Perhaps she struggled knowing if there was something more she ought to do with her life? She said she didn't know how to help us, but was doing what she could and I thank God for Carol's faithfulness. She was "taking it one day at a time" like so many people I'd met on the way, but this did not seem as reassuring or encouraging for her. She may just have a different personality than I have seen or it might have been this particular day. To me, however, she seemed to be lacking purpose. In any case, I hope that she has hope and joy and peace in her eternal life through Jesus Christ.

It was in the next few days that I decided I should be careful what I say about others and very careful trying to judge their hearts. I do not want to hurt anyone's feelings and maybe it is wrong to talk about people like this. Is this not personal? Is this not private? And yet, this is a part of my experience and how I perceive the people I meet. But, I have been very wrong about things before. Perhaps so long as I do not condemn people, but share my perceptions out of love... but maybe it is better if it is between me and them.

Among other things, I hiked around (is it called hiking if there are no hills?), looked out at the gorgeous lake, took a very uncomfortable shower*, saw a groundhog, journaled a tiny bit, and then went to bed early. Tom tried starting a fire with his flint and steel, but failed miserably (sorry, Tom!). If it's any consolation to Tom, we had a rough time starting it with the lighter that Carol lent us too because our wood was wet. Tom stayed outside and read at the picnic table that we chained our bikes to and I retreated early to the tent. This was his sort of place. Quiet.

We rode to Carlyle, Illinois on Tuesday, June 9, 2009.

To see more photos from my trip: add me as a friend on facebook - http://www.facebook.com/kurtis.griess

*those showers were hot! I had enough less-hot water to rinse with in each of the three stalls before it became scalding about five seconds later. That said, I would rinse, lather, run to another stall, start to rinse, run to another stall, rinse again... ouch.

Carlyle, Illinois Part 1

2009-07-19T09:09:00.006-06:00

Whenever I think of the city Carlyle, I hear it in Pastor Wagner's accent. I think that's because I ended up calling his church and reaching the voicemail so many times. I'm not so sure I can describe his pronunciation of Carlyle here, but it's very distinct. I never met the man, but my memories of him are very fond. I'm not sure I've ever had this particular attachment or gratitude for someone I've never met before.

My interactions with Pastor Wagner probably consisted of no more than 15-20 minutes of phone conversation, but it only took a minute before I knew he cared for and loved me and Tom without reservation. How can this be? He assured he would help us, he was patient in waiting to learn if we found help from another church in Carlyle (recall, I thought we might be helped by the Lutheran church, but they couldn't help), and he even held a special love offering for our bicycle trip, which collected $35 from his small congregation of less than 20 (I believe). He would have taken us in himself if not for being in and out of town and it being his wedding anniversary.

Before we left St. Louis (maybe on Sunday or Monday evening) I called him and he expressed interest in getting to meet me and Tom. It was more than a passing interest. No, I could tell by his tone that his desire to meet us was like that of estranged family members trying to see one another. If you could tell by someone's voice that they wanted to meet you and be in relationship with you that much, you would do almost anything to run to them and meet them at least halfway. Maybe I'm being a little melodramatic. I found out that he works in Centralia and it was sadly quite a bit out of our way. When he and I realized we couldn't meet we were both disappointed.

On to the details of the ride.

There was only one thing on the news that morning that I paid attention to: tornadoes. This time in the area of Shiloh, Illinois. Over the weekend, many tornadoes hit Colorado, my home state, and on Monday (the day before) a tornado struck right where we were supposed to be. The reporters were out in some suburbs sharing stories of the damage and of neighbors coming to help neighbors. I realized very quickly that this tornado-damaged neighborhood could potentially be on our path for the day so I asked Tom if we could ride through Shiloh. I hoped we could see the neighborhood in person (for interest sake*). Tom told me that it was not in the plans and truth be told I was a little disappointed I wouldn't be able to witness the damage in person. It didn't hit me until later that we could have been in the path of that very tornado had I not felt so gut-wrenchingly terrible about leaving St. Louis the day before.

Paul drove us and our bikes in his nice, big Yukon across the Mississippi river and into Illinois. Thank God that we had hosts with the capability of transporting us out of large cities, thereby avoiding Interstates and heavy traffic (and possibly dangerous neighborhoods).

Tom and I started our ride in Columbia, IL and rode east towards Belleville. We took a quick break there for snacks and I saw my first ever drive-in convenience store (that I can remember)... actually, I didn't think it was an operating drive-in, so as we were resting outside the window I felt guilty that I was slightly in the way of the white truck that drove in a big circle to make his way to buy cigarettes at the window.

We moved on. It was a cloudy morning and fairly cool. I started seeing more and more beautiful orange flowers on the side of the highway, which I later found out were Daylilies. That day, my mood was very "down to business." I was more focused on the logistics of ride that usual, but I was enjoying the ride tremendously. The weather was nice, but I considered the possibility of rain. Tom hadn't let us down with the route yet, but we were not on Highway 50 (which was straightforward) and so I was more vigilant in making sure we were not taking a longer route than necessary to Carlyle. Later, I even went as far as finally fixing (uninstalling and reinstalling) the Google Maps program on my phone that had been malfunctioning for several weeks.

So, it was amid perfectly pleasant conditions that we rode by a barn that was blasted by the tornado. It took me a minute to figure out why the building looked so un-normal and what these seemingly unnecessary vehicles were doing parking on the side of the road. Then, I was blown away. The barn was missing its roof and the house next door clearly had damage. Then there were the trees that were ripped in half. Then the fragments of building in the field across the street. On second thought, there's no way it took me the whole minute to piece all of that together. The cars were of neighbors coming to help clean up, no doubt. I was not expecting to see any of this since we were not riding in Shiloh.

It was around that time when I realized just how big a bullet we dodged. This is most likely the path we would have taken the day before... We stopped at a house a little later and I asked a woman there about the previous day's weather. They had golf ball-sized hail and the tornado tore through their timber lands.

I am blessed and I believe we were spared from grave danger.

*And now, I think I was in awe of the terrible power of tornadoes and wanted to see the damage, but I was not connected in emotion with those who were affected... I neither felt sympathy nor understood what they were really going through. My interest in seeing the damage was no more than just to have the experience of witnessing the effects of tornadoes.

St. Louis, Missouri (Monday)

2009-07-16T12:19:00.005-06:00

Monday morning I had mentally prepared myself to leave St. Louis. It was often hard to leave the safety and security of a loving home and leave once again to an unknown, uncertain future. Nonetheless, after two days of rest, I was physically and mentally prepped to hit the road. However, it turns out leaving that day was not to be.

It seems like we were checking the weather a lot those last couple days. We were looking at the weather radar and trying to track rain and lightning. We'd had a little rain on Sunday, but not as much as we expected. Colorado had five tornadoes on either Saturday or Sunday (I've told people it was Sunday, but maybe it was Saturday). I remember looking in awe at the pictures that some of my friends had taken. Tornadoes are scary. Actually, tornadoes were one of my only fears for this trip because I had a vivid dream about them before leaving. Fortunately, in my dream, me and my riding partner (was it Tom? I don't remember) escaped to a lake.

I ate breakfast. Eggs and sausage and toast with jam. Jane was so fantastic a servant to us.

The weather was dreary that morning. The sky grew darker and darker. It was hard to believe it was 7 or 8am because it was so dark. Tom woke up and joined us. I felt uneasy. He checked the weather and I checked the weather (on my phone) and we watched the TV for the weather. He seemed certain this wouldn't be too bad, that I was psyching myself out and that we just needed to go. His forecast called for low chance of rain for the rest of the day and I knew that Tom would not be hindered by weather like rain.

The odd thing is that I was ready to go when I woke up. I was packed, ate breakfast, and was ready to move, but a terrible feeling arose in my chest. I suddenly felt so nervous about leaving that my heart ached. I felt almost desperate that I should convince Tom not to leave. Mind you, the doom and gloom over our heads at that very moment, showering hail, rain, and lightning on the roof, surely contributed to my unease. Tom might have thought that I was just afraid to leave the comfort of the house... that a little rain was what I was nervous about, but I prefer to think I'm not a pansy. No, something inside me was churning and I did not feel comfortable leaving. I finally convinced Tom we should not go by saying we should listen to our hosts about whether or not to leave and then I sort of egged on Jane to say that we should stay. Now it seems to me I was a little underhanded, but I feared nothing less would convince Tom that we should stay.

My heartache disappeared the instant we committed to staying an extra day. The rain and hail stopped in an hour. The sun came out. But we were committed. I figured Tom would not be happy with me because I wanted to stay and the weather turned out so nice. I was a little disturbed that my bad feeling proved to be incorrect (or so it seemed). Nonetheless, Jane and Paul let us stay another day and I was determined to do something productive now that we had no choice but to stay (Paul would have give us a ride out of the city, but he was already at the church).

So, I started reading 1 Samuel on the recommendation of my Dad. Then both Tom and I looked at the anti-virus software on Jane's computer (trying to fix some errors). I took an 8-mile bike ride. I liked that time alone with God. I spent a lot of time just chatting with Jane, who was babysitting three (or was it four?) little girls.

That evening, Paul took Tom and me to the Lone Elk Park and we saw some wildlife (buffalo, elk, deer, wild turkeys). It was nice to spend that time with Paul. It was good, quality time in my book (even though I wouldn't necessarily consider this wildlife to be wild... it was more than a petting zoo, but less than natural). Before I forget, the first or second night we were there, Paul took us into his "Den of Death" (his den with several of the animals he's killed) and asked us what some certain objects were. I knew I had seen them before and I knew they came from an animal, but I had to dredge up a memory with my grandpa to get the answer: turkey beards! I was one of the few people to get that right and maybe that helped me build a slightly better rapport with Paul ;). Before going home, Paul dropped us off and Wal-Mart and I picked up some snacks (apple sauce, TLC granola bars, etc.), sunscreen lotion, and a bar of facial soap.

Back at the house, I looked at a map with Paul and Jane and this was after we had found out that Clay City (a two day-ride away) was not a viable option to find a host. I had made many phone calls, all dead ends. The final woman I spoke with suggested Flora (Illinois), a slightly larger city about 8 or 10 miles east. Tom and I were okay with Flora and before we even had the chance to make some phone calls, Paul remembered that he had a friend from his Bible school pastoring a church in Flora. Thus, Paul called "Billy" and after a bit of catching up (and Paul explaining our situation), Bill agreed to help us. Bill already had a lot on his plate as it turns out, with the sudden death of a member of their congregation and I could tell even during the phone conversation that it was not the easiest thing for Bill to do to take on another responsibility. Still, he took us on.

After some ice cream we all went to bed. We found out the next day that we dodge a big bullet by staying an extra day. Call it the Holy Spirit, call it a miracle, or call it coincidence, but we were spared from grave danger.

We took a third consecutive day of rest in St. Louis, Missouri on Monday, June 8, 2009.

St. Louis, Missouri (Sunday)

2009-07-09T10:23:00.002-06:00

Sunday. Day two of rest. I really enjoy going to our hosts' churches on Sunday because I get to spend more time with them and share more life with them. I had a blueberry muffin (which looked funny, but tasted great... Jane attributed the funny look to them being whole wheat) and oatmeal for breakfast.

Tom and I joined the college group Bible study before going to the service and I was very surprised at how many students were in attendence. The teacher was very talkative and was very strong in her conviction of the message she wanted to portray. Her illustrations proved her points well and I certainly identified with much of what she was saying (and a lot of it could be very useful if the listener really connects), but I still had an uneasyness about my time there. Again (like in Hill City), I think it was how she conveyed the message in her tone. I'm sad to say I can't provide a specific example, but it seemed a bit forceful to me... unnecessarily poignant. Or, perhaps I was uncomfortable because I felt like this was much more of a lecture than a seminar. That is, she had points that she wanted to reach, but wouldn't necessarily let conversation arrive at those points (albeit, we weren't the most talkative group. I like to have more time to think about a passage and its implications and through conversation arrive at new realizations). I did sometimes feel like we were being talked down to like children who've misbehaved (it seemed somehow condescending), not young adults seeking God together cooperatively. Now, I feel a little unnecessarily critical of her, but those were the vibes I felt during the lesson.

Maybe I'm thinking too much about this (I tend to do that, sorry). I didn't gain much from the lesson. Either the lesson was not for me (because I have already learned it) or it didn't have time to take hold or (I have to leave open this possible explanation) I was not receptive to the message because of the state of my own heart.

Getting back on track. Gateway Christian Church had great facilities and friendly, committed members. This was for me a very evident result of Paul's legacy of following Jesus Christ. Paul was starting a series on the Beatitudes. Since this was the 36th anniversary of his church, he spent this service sharing what blessings the church has had over the years (and showed a nice slide show of pictures through the years) and covering lessons learned. I took some notes on my phone. Here are some of his church's lessons (these are from my notes and are either paraphrases, summaries, or direct quotes):

"When it comes to God's will: It doesn't matter whether we can afford it, but whether God wants us to do this.

God doesn't need perfect circumstances for His miracles.

No disgrace in failing at great goals. It is only disgrace to have the fear to not make great goals.

He will always provide if we are doing His will.

'Never doubt in the dark what God has proven to be true in the light.'

'It is helpful, but it is not necessary to know and understand what God is doing and why. It is necessary to trust that He knows what He is doing.'

Sometimes He delivers us to the fire instead of from the fire. He has promised to always be with us through the valley, through the storm, through the fire."

We went out to eat lunch at a place called Zapatas (I think). I had the Mexican buffet. We were joined by their intern, Josh, and his girlfriend, Julie. Also there was Anna, a young lady we met in the college group, and Julie's sister. It was a pleasant lunch. Many thanks are in order for how Paul and Jane provided for me and Tom and for how we were welcomed by the others at the table.

At about 4 or 5 pm, Tom, Jane, and I arrived at the picnic. The kids were just finishing up their slip-n-slide with mustard and relish. Gross, but fun for a young boy. I played volleyball, my favorite sport (to participate in). Supper was fantastic. You really can't beat a church potluck. At the end, there were a couple testimonies and I was really touched to see how much Gateway meant to the couple of people who spoke about their experience at Gateway. It reminded me a lot of Bennington Bible Church in Kansas. Community. That's what I see making such impacts in their lives. I was also touched that Paul prayed for me and Tom before the whole congregation. That was so unexpected and so precious. I praise God for His children and the love they showed to me. I am really awestruck by their care and compassion... and for them it was second nature. They loved with such ease.

Before I went to bed I squared away plans for Monday. I was in touch with the Carlyle Church of God in Illinois. Pastor Wagner was one of the kindest people I spoke with and I'm sad I never got the chance to meet him. I remember thinking about his initiative in trying to help us. On the Katy trail Thursday and Friday, I spoke with him and a Lutheran church. I thought I'd be able to secure something with the Lutheran church because our conversation was so upbeat, so I told Pastor Wagner that I thought we'd be taken care of. The Lutheran Church ended up falling through, but Pastor Wagner made it clear that if the Lutheran Church couldn't help he would work something out for us. And that he did. He arranged for us to meet with a member of his congregation (Carol) at the Eldon Hazlet State Park campground at the Carlyle Reservoir. There, we could pitch our tent (plot paid for by Carol) and Carol would feed us supper and breakfast as well as give us some money collected for us at the Sunday service. I really couldn't believe that once again someone (and his church) would reach out to us like this. It really makes me want to cry each time I think about it. Pastor Wagner really hit the ball out of the park, even with my curveball pitch.

We took our second consecutive day of rest in St. Louis, Missouri on Sunday, June 7, 2009.

St. Louis, Missouri (Saturday)

2009-07-09T08:58:00.003-06:00

I don't remember how I prepared for the day on Saturday morning. I probably woke up around 8am and had breakfast with Paul and Jane. Tom slept in for a while, I remember that. I also remember that breakfast was delicious each day we spent there. After breakfast, Tom and I packed some lunches and Paul and Jane were giving us a ride downtown by about 9:30am.

We arrived at the Gateway Arch early and bought our tickets to ride to the top. While we waited, we explored the museum (Museum of Westward Expansion) below the arch. I had the feeling that this journey brought us along our particular path for a reason. It was a strange sensation. That we would ride through just the right places (of historical significance) on our way east provided the opportunity to learn more about what the US is built on. How did the US become what it is today? I was traveling backwards in time from Denver, east and I got to observe the westward progress in reverse. Not only that, I took a critical and curious look at the figures of our history. These are figures that all Americans should know and that many revere. What made them great? Are they worthy to immitate? In what regards do I admire or respect them? In what ways do I not? I will tell you now, that I hold these men (and women) in no higher regard than the men they were... that is, I do not lose sight that these people did great things, but only through the strength, knowledge, and wisdom that was given to them by God.

We were in line for the arch in no time. Then we were in the tiny capsules (made with technology from the 1960's, if I remember correctly) that took us up to the top. What can I say about the Gateway Arch? It is certainly a feat of precise engineering. What a strange building, though. It was built in honor of St. Louis being the gateway to the west because that is where Lewis and Clark really kicked off their journey west. The view from inside was quite pretty from all sides. It was cool to be at the top, but it was no long-awaited dream fulfilled. I can say that I have done it, but it was not a lifetime achievement to be there. Maybe I just don't get impressed the way I used to... I suppose it could be that I've grown used to seeing skyscrapers and riding rollercoasters.

However, observing the arch from the outside was much more impressive. I remember gazing at the towering structure thinking this was something alien... like the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. And I was also waiting for a scene from the Stargate series to happen.

Tom and I also went to the Old Courthouse where the Dred Scott case took place. It was a museum in its own rights. There was so much history to absorb between this place and the museum under the arch that I got a headache trying to take in everything. I felt mentally tired very fast and I was ready to leave already. Still, I was in St. Louis, so I might as well see whatever else I could. We went to the old Union Station next. We walked around, sat down, and then got picked up. Before we left, we did get to try out the "whispering arch" where one person can stand about 20-30 feet away from another, whisper into the wall, and the person on the other end can hear as if standing right beside them.

Paul and Jane took us to a graduation party of a girl from their congregation (whose father happened to be another one they took in back in the 80's... Paul and Jane have a history of taking people in). It was good to talk with a couple of the kids around our age about our experience.

We went back home and the Rockies beat the Cardinals again. Supper was yummy. I am a slower eater than Paul, which is apparently a rarity ;)

We had a day of rest in St. Louis, Missouri on Saturday, June 6, 2009.

Inventorying my bags

2009-07-03T06:13:00.001-06:00

Just in case you are interested in going on a trip like mine, here is a list of what I brought with me (some I sent home in Topeka and will account for later):

General:
-Touring bicycle (road bike made from steel or titanium) with back rack, water bottle holders
-Helmet
-Gloves
-Sun glasses
-two large panniers (combined volume of 109 liters) with rain covers
-sleeping bag with black plastic bag for rain protection
-Leatherman (never used)
-2 pairs of triple-A batteries
-2 pairs of double-A batteries
-First aid kit
-4 water bottles (and an occasional gatorade or two)
-bungie net for strapping sleeping bag to bike
-2 Ace bandages for my knees
-Lights (small headlight, blinking tail light)
-journal
-notebook (for writing notes and contact info)
-solar/crank-powered flash light/radio with weather band (used through Kansas and maybe once after)
-sun screen lotion (2-3 bottles at a time for my arms, legs and 2 bottles for my face)
-two-man tent, tent footprint
-sleeping pad
-2 Shamwows (one large, one small, both used infrequently)
-cell phone
-wallet
-chapstick

Clothing:
-shoes (biking shoes and walking shoes)
-3 pairs of biking socks, 2 normal socks
-2 pair of biking shorts
-2 pair of biking shirts
-2 t-shirts
-swim trunks
-warm-up pants
-long-sleeved Under Armor winter shirt
-wool longjohns
-2 pairs of underwear
-bandana/scarf (never used)
-raincoat

Hygiene/toiletries:
-one half roll of toilet paper (never used)
-one bar of Naptha (used twice)
-2 bars soap (one for body, one for face)
-shampoo (small bottle)
-body wash/shampoo (small bottle, got it in North Vernon)
-razor
-contact lenses (one case for each eye), 3 contact lens cases, 2 contact lens solution bottles, eye drops
-stick of deodorant
-2 nail clippers (fingers and toes)
-toothbrush and paste
-floss

Bike maintenance:
-two spare tubes
-two spare tires
-bike lock
-computer (small device to track mileage, speed)
-4 tire irons (dont ask)
-chain lube
-multi-tool
-2 patch kits
-chain breaker

Food stuff (fluxuates):
-granola
-dried fruit (bananas, raisins, apricots)
-not dried fruit (whenever I could I brought apples and bananas)
-Electrolyte 'Stamina' packets (like Gatorade, but without the sugar)
-whatever lunch I could pack (usually consisting of at least one sandwich)

Update 7/2

2009-07-02T18:28:00.002-06:00

Hi everyone,

I cannot wait to catch you all up on each day's progress, but I must wait a while longer to do that (and I will, don't worry!). However, I do have some exciting, yet sad news to share. My journey on bicycle has come to an end.

Today, Tom and I rode from our hosts in Alexandria, VA to his grandparents' city, Rockville, MD. In particular, we ended at the UPS Store and shipped our trusty steeds of 45 days back home to Colorado. I was definitely a little apprehensive when I saw my bike - all taken apart and nonfunctional - ready to be packed. Hehe, I don't want to think I've become attached to an otherwise inanimate object, but it was almost like leaving behind a pet that your parents told you you couldn't have any more. I stole just one glance behind me as I walked away, so I'm not too bad, you see ;). I believe that because I've spent so much time on those two wheels (45 days and probably near 200 hours) and depended upon it for so much (1800 miles of travel) that I really didn't want to leave it behind. I need to adjust to the "normal," faster modes of transportation again.

So, my bicycle journey is over. But, my spiritual journey will never end, so long as I desire to continue. There are several reasons for ending bicycling before Buffalo, NY. I first realized that D.C. could be the end of bicycling last Sunday at Tom's Aunt and Uncle's house. Let me lay out the simple circumstances:

-Tom has family in the D.C. area that could take him to his family reunion in Buffalo.
-My father is in Philedelphia on business each week and I could stay with him at his hotel and leave from there.
-Tom has wanted to see his girlfriend in New Jersey since we started the trip (and we had intended to go there), so he could stay with me and my dad in Philly across the river if he wants.

Based on those factors, I knew that I could feasibly be finished here. Then I had to think about my spiritual journey. Is this what God wants? Am I supposed to go on? I could certainly go on. God will provide for me, I have no doubts or fears about that. But, do I need to go on? I felt nothing drawing me on to Buffalo. No feelings that I'd be missing out if I stopped early. If we went on, I would meet more people and we would be riding several more days and several more miles, but I can meet people and pursue God each day whether on a bicycle far from home or not. Now, being on bicycle far from home does provide a unique opportunity to open up about my faith that being at home in comfort does not. Will I go home and lose my motivation to pursue fellowship or opportunities to witness? Time will tell, but I hope I've learned enough from my experiences this summer to open up to strangers even in my home city. Being home will open different opportunities to serve people and share God's love and I must be aware of those possibilities and take advantage of them.

Sorry for the drawn out stream of consciousness. The distance of this trip is sufficient, the people I have met were fantastic (and I believe we were with just the right people and interacted with the right people all along), the experiences were meaningful, the country was beautiful, and God's lessons were pertinent to the state of my heart and place in my journey. My continued spiritual journey is not dependent on my being halfway across the country from home or using a bicycle to get around. Although, I believe everything about this trip was indicative of God's perfection and His intimate knowledge of my heart.

So, why is it sad that I am ending now? This all came very suddenly. I told Tom that I figured we could end here in D.C. that same Sunday night and by the morning I was decided. It was very abrupt and all other possibilities were discarded. I had absolutely no plan committed for how I would get home after arriving in Buffalo. I tossed around some ideas: plane, train, bus, car, motorcycle. I thought I might drive home and visit all the places I came through on the way here... hence not ending the journey until some time after July 15. Instead, what I will do is fly from Philly to Denver on July 9. That means I will not be able to see the wonderful people I love so much (and this was definitely a factor in my thought process as I decided what I should do now). That includes everyone I have met and supported me on this journey. They took me in (or prayed or followed my progress, sending me encouraging words), a stranger, and cared for me like family. I did not deserve their love, but they showered me with it. I cannot repay them for their kindness, hospitality, and generosity. I know that their motivation was pure, that is, out of love - without expectation of reward - that God may receive all the glory and praise.

I am committed to seeing my new family again. I do not know when and I do not know how. In the meantime, I will certainly be in contact with each of them as I continue this journey - no longer refered to as my "spirit journey," as though it ends after bicycling - which is called life. Does it need a better name? What is life? Life is in Jesus Christ. Life is a journey that never ends so long as you go with him. Live.

Update 6/27

2009-06-27T21:17:00.000-06:00

Tom and I are in Rockville, MD tonight staying at his grandparents' Lutheran church. We've been on the C&O Canal Trail from Cumberland (we left 2 days ago) to Great Falls. The weather has been perfect and the path is reasonable. I got my second flat tire of the trip today, but I changed it and there's no harm done. My bike is in serious need of a washing.

I'm doing okay. I have enjoyed a lot of these last three days, but I've found myself in a strange mood as well... somehow irritable (in part because of food shortages), disappointed (because I wish I had more time to learn more of the history and slow down to read the signs), and occasionally upset with the circumstances (e.g. having problems with my bags falling off, some things Tom says that I probably read too much into, etc.). Nonetheless, I am alive and well and I am in God's tender care no matter what each moment brings. Right now I am content and glad to be where I am.

St. Louis, Missouri

2009-06-22T16:12:00.002-06:00

Paul K. served us breakfast and we got to visit a little while longer. He took us for a tour of the church and I discovered even more just how beautiful these old churches are (and how full of history). In a chapel, we had a brief Bible study and took communion. We finished packing and saw some people coming in the church (a secretary, a woman with the quilting club) as the sunshine started to fill the church with light. It was a beautiful sunny morning.

We were already back on the road. We did not get enough time there. I would have loved to talk with Paul K. and Joe some more, but we were heading to St. Louis with about 40 miles of trail remaining.

We got back on the trail and the weather was perfect. It would be hot later, but for then, it was nice and cool (with no wind) and the path was just right. I knew there would be three vineyards on the way with wineries and I was determined to stop at one... even at 9am in the morning. We missed the first couple of wineries and just enjoyed the ride. A winery was not the priority, but I certainly would have loved to go to my first one ever (and we did find one later).

The trail was as the day before wonderful. As opposed to later trails we would take, this one had an amber glow to it and I felt safe and comfortable as we cruised along. I saw more wildlife and several bikers and hikers. On one occasion, two hikers were walking opposite of us and a squirrel decided to slowly cross the path between them and us. He just didn't move fast enough and although time seemed to momentarily freeze as I watched the squirrel crossing in front of me everything happened so fast I had no time to react. I simply rode forward and the squirrel was done for. My first road kill. Probably. Not that you need gory details, but I turned around after running him over and saw him try to sidle of the path, but he couldn't pick up his head. I saw him manage to get off the path, but I hope some predator put him out of his misery or he somehow was healed. Ah well.

We did finally run into a winery as we continued down the path. We had to climb a steep, paved hill to get there, but I'm very glad we did. It was the Sugar Creek Winery and the place was unbelievable. The view of the expanse of land from the hilltop was breathtaking and it was hard to believe a cute little place like this existed out in Missouri... I would picture this kind of thing in California or maybe Italy, I don't know, I've never been out there, but Missouri? I went inside the winery and tasted everything they had to offer. I settled on getting the Cynthiana, which is a dry red wine from a native American grape. Pretty good stuff. I'm no connoisseur or I'd tell you more. We stayed at the winery for a little more than an hour (for lunch).

Nothing much else to speak of as far as the ride goes. It was serene. So much scenery to take in. Deer in the meadows with a creek flowing by was picture perfect, but I think my camera was dead. We finished our ride at the St. Charles Family Arena (I think this is right). Our host, Paul N. was to pick us up with his black Yukon so we could avoid city traffic. He picked us up between 4 and 5 pm and we got a ride to his home in Kirkwood.

On the ride over, I learned that Paul comes from a family with a tradition in the ministry. His parents were missionaries in Asia (China, Philippines, Thailand?) and during WWII when the Japanese had control of the Philippines, his parents and his siblings were locked in a prison, which is where Paul was born! In prison. All of his family survived, while many died of malnutrition. His parents were able to minister to the fellow prisoners. His parents never stopped, even after the end of the war. That legacy of ministry was passed to Paul and now, all of Paul's boys (four of them) are ministers. It is interesting how strong faith can be passed on intergenerationally (I guess that's probably not real a word).

Shortly after arriving, we found out when the church potluck/picnic to celebrate their 36th anniversary would be on Sunday (it would be in the evening). I wanted to be there, so Jane graciously offered her home to us one more night! Thus, we made plans for two days of rest. We had a wonderful meal, which Paul's wife, Jane, prepared for us. After supper, we relaxed (this was Friday night and on Saturday we would have a day of rest and sightseeing!) and watched the Rockies-Cardinals baseball game. What an interesting coincidence that our two teams would be facing each other while we were in town! The Rockies creamed the Cards (sorry, Paul and Jane and St. Louis ;) ). I guess we brought good luck to the Rockies those four days we were there because they swept the four game series.

Before bed, I got to meet the summer intern for their church that they were hosting. Josh is studying in Florida and is working with the youth program all summer. It was great to make one more friend before bed.

To be continued...

-The next day we went to downtown St. Louis to visit the Gateway Arch, the museum under the arch, the Old Courthouse, and Union Station. We also crashed a graduation party Saturday.

-Sunday, we went to church (the 36th anniversary of the church and of Paul being pastor there! What impeccable timing... I have a knack for finding celebrations) and the picnic/potluck

-Monday we were supposed to leave, but I was very uneasy about leaving that day. For one, the rain and hail scared me. So, we delayed the trip one more day. The rain and hail stopped within one hour of starting, but it turned out there were tornados right on our path that day. I'm glad we stayed the extra day.

We rode to St. Louis, Missouri on Friday, June 5, 2009. We stayed for several days of rest.

Backlogged

2009-06-22T15:41:00.003-06:00

Hey folks,

Tom and I are safe in Oakland, Maryland right now. I'm using a computer at the Garret County public library. I've gotten several states behind on my posts, but hopefully the most important details have remained either in my head or I've written them in my personal journal so I can recall them when I get the chance to catch up. I will probably start posting shorter entries just so you all know where I am at present and some details of our travels.

We are waiting for a phone call from our host tonight. Until then, we are sitting ducks. I really hope he doesn't back out on us.

The ride today was very difficult. We crossed a couple mountain ranges of the Appalachians. There were some several mile climbs (of grade 9%) and then some wonderful downhill times. When we arrived in Brookside, WV I stopped to get a picture of a "historic landmark" sign for an old stone tavern built in the early 1800s. There, a young woman walked up from the building with her bicycle in hand. Her name is Debbie, a freelance journalist, and she wound up asking where we were heading for the evening. When we told her we were going to Mountain Lake Park, she told us a really handy short cut that saved us 3 miles of riding and who knows what kind of mountains. Before she left us, she introduced us to her boyfriend, Brad, who was working on renovating the tavern (which is being made into a bar). He gave us a tour of the structure and some of the history.

We arrived in Oakland shortly before 5pm and we tried to call Pastor Chip (but didn't reach him, so left a message). At this point, we are awaiting his response and periodically trying to call again.

Thanks for your patience! If you are interested in where we are at any given time, you can also follow me on twitter (username kurtisgriess) or find me on facebook.

Washington, Missouri (part 2)

2009-06-16T20:18:00.003-06:00

I don't like it. Not one bit. Something about what I wrote at the end of my last post does not feel right. I think I was trying to be insightful, but I am not sure I have ever succeeded in doing that on purpose. When it's me that's writing, I can see the flaws and I am disappointed with the outcome. And when I am writing not from my own thoughts, but from something that I feel... it makes a lot more sense. I know the difference.

Let me correct myself. I was not enjoying the ride for a brief stint that morning. Ultimately, I knew that something needed to change. When I returned to my deepest desires (to connect with God and be with Him), I knew I had to stop and adjust or my day would be miserable.

God has taught me something about my motivations and my foundations lately. In the end, if my purpose for doing something is apart from Him I don't feel right. As for foundations, if I am distracted by some new experience or idea (e.g. learning about a different faith practice) I must return to what holds me fast. Sometimes (or often it seems), my foundation is shaken at the places I never built. Here, I must evaluate an experience or idea from a position that is sturdy. What I am doing a lot on this journey is buttressing and fortifying my foundation.

Okay, back to my story. I met a lovely woman named Celia from Estes Park, Colorado while Tom and I took our lunch break (well, it was more like another snack, which turned out to do me more harm than good later as I was struggling to find energy to push on). I think we were at the Portage checkpoint (but, I'd have to verify with photos and a map). The trees opened up to the Missouri river there for one of the first full views I had of the water. Celia was following ("chasing" or "supporting") three bikers (one is a friend of hers) from coast-to-coast as they bicycled all the way across the country. She had a white truck with supplies and she met them at various points along the way. She parked and set up her chair under some cottonwoods and read a book and journaled. She had an aura of beauty surrounding her. She seemed at peace. I don't remember how I met her, but we exchanged stories before she took some pictures of Tom and me. I was back at the small shelter at the trail marker checkpoint about to get my bike set to leave again, when I heard a crack and quickly looked back to where Celia was sitting.

It all happened very quickly. I only saw the final four feet of the tree branch's fall. From my vantage point, it had either just hit the truck or the chair. My mind had little time to register what was going on before I realized Celia was now standing a couple feet away. "Did you see that?" I saw it, but I was still worried maybe she'd been hurt (despite the fact she was still standing). The branch fell right between her truck and her chair, not three feet apart. She got up when she heard a sound. All was fine, but I'd've had a heart attack if it was me.

We continued riding. We intersected paths with Celia one other time and also with Jack (from before in the morning). This time with Jack he had some questions about my spiritual journey and how we were getting along (e.g. how do we find a place to stay at night). I was surprised by his sudden interest and I addressed his questions as best I could before Tom and I passed him and his friend on the trail. I could sense he had more to ask, but we did not get the chance to speak more. A lost opportunity? I don't think so.

We reached Dutzow, MO at about 6:30pm. This is the latest we've ever arrived at our evening destination. I called Paul K. and he told me his friend Joe was going to meet us. I was expecting a bicycle escort to the city, but I was very grateful that Joe showed up during my call to Paul saying that he brought his car with his bike rack. I was exhausted, but still all too ready to ride the three miles to Washington if necessary (I occaisionally have the mentality that allows me to ignore the discomfort and push on in spite of them).

Joe had a lot of questions to ask me about my faith and my spirit journey. I'm not entirely sure what he wanted to know. I know that I couldn't have given him very good answers because I tend to be a slow thinker when asked deep questions and I didn't want to take too long to respond. I remember learning a great word from him: ecumenical. He told me he was an ecumenical type of guy. He was raised Catholic and currently attends St. Peter's United Church of Christ. He was pretty interesting and I didn't get nearly enough time to soak in our conversation. He rides bicycles on a track and used to train at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. Also, his first question to Tom and me was "do you like beer?"

We drove over the river and he pointed out the complete lack of shoulders that once caused him to have to be scraped off the road by an ambulence. I'm glad we avoided that after 77 miles of riding earlier in the day. Soon enough we were in Washington, unloading our things from his jeep outside the church. Paul K. joined us and helped carry things inside.

We all had supper together (some delish burgers with barbeque sauce, some mixed veggies, and some sweet pink whippy stuff I don't remember the name of). Paul told me he had the chance to read all of my blog and that he found that some of the material pertained to his message two weeks later on 2 Corinthians 5:6-17. He asked if he could use some of my words and experiences in his sermon (which he has sent to me by the time I am writing this). I obliged. Whatever does come of this journey, I am glad if good comes to more than just me.

What can I say about Paul? He was quick to accept me and Tom into his church (a relief considering earlier difficulties in Missouri). He was very thoughtful all the time. He weighed each statement of mine, which made me feel a little sheepish, as I certainly didn't think I had much of importance to share. That reminds me, before we went to bed, he asked us what the greatest lesson we've learned is. I really didn't have much of a good response. Once again. Trust me, I've been asked that question quite a lot and nothing popped into mind that I should share as my most important lesson while biking. And as of our last conversation (via telephone), I told Paul that because my journey started in January many of the biggest life changing lessons had been taught before my biking ever began. Indeed, what I might deem to be the greatest revelation is simply seeing there is more. And that lesson happened early on when God opened my eyes. Suddenly, everything I was missing became more clear. I couldn't grasp the "more" yet, but I saw it there for the taking.

Where was I? We went to Paul's son Aaron's baseball game and before leaving there, I met his wife Marcia and his daughter Gracie and finalized arrangements with our host in St. Louis (another Paul!). We also got the tour of Washington (which apparently has quite the nightlife) after leaving the game.

We rose fairly early to sunshine. Paul was out of his sleeping bag way before either of me or Tom. By the way, if it isn't clear by now, Paul spent the night with us in the youth room. That was definitely a first and I appreciate him doing that. I had my sleeping bag on some cushions borrowed from a nearby couch. I believe I woke before my alarm (as I had been most days of the journey thus far) and started preparing for the day. We all had breakfast together. Then Paul gave us a tour of the church. A beautiful building. On the tour, the organist was practicing as we walked in the sanctuary, we saw pictures of the development of the church, we saw urns containing ashes of deceased members, and then we walked to the chapel. In the chapel we had a short Bible study (on 2 Corinthians 5:6-17) and we partook of Holy Communion.

Though our time together was short, I sensed Paul's wisdom and his yearning for "more."

We rode to Washington, Missouri on Thursday, June 4, 2009.

Washington, Missouri (part 1)

2009-06-15T19:41:00.004-06:00

I called Earl at about 7am and he told me he'd be at the hotel with Kathy in about thirty minutes. That gave me some time to prepare my bags. We went to a throwback restaurant called Oscar's. It had black and white photos of Jeff City from decades ago (I'm talking 50s and earlier). We had some scrumptious food and I just loved spending that time with Kathy and Earl. I was with family again.

Breakfast ended and we looked at some of the photos before stepping out the door. Then we were back in the hotel in no time, lugging our bikes and bags downstairs. And, after some strange navigation to get out of Jeff City, we found the Katy trail!

The Katy trail was a railroad track (MKT - Missouri Kansas Texas, I think) that was converted to a gravel path about ten years ago (don't hold me to that). It spans all of Missouri from west to east and follows the Missouri river through some amazing landscape and woods. We feared the Katy trail would be too rough on our road bike-thin tires, but it was a chance we were willing to take for what we heard about the scenery, the shade, the lack of highway traffic and noise, the protection from wind, and the more direct path to Washington.

The trail was not a letdown. Not in the least. But I'll tell you about that later. We met some bikers early and had some conversations. I spoke with Jack for about a half an hour and got to know him a bit - a man who works for parks and recreation where he lives in California, with two children (about my age), who does weeklong rides each summer with some of his friends from work. The oldest person in Jack's crew was over 70 years old! That's pretty neat. They were staying in B&Bs (bed and breakfasts) all along the Katy trail and they used rented bikes from St. Louis. When I shared some of my story with him, he glanced over the spiritual aspect and before too long we parted ways (we crossed paths again several times in the day). There was another couple of bicyclists we talked with. A man and his son. The father said that it was a great opportunity for him to connect with his son in a special time apart from a less-than-optimal atmosphere (apparently there were some arguments between the son and daughter of the family in which the father stepped in and thought his son may feel alienated).

Tom and I finally got to a place where I could make some phone calls. After the calls, I was riding behind Tom (which doesn't happen too often) and I was struggling to keep up. There may be a couple of factors that caused my being slow: Tom's bike was better suited for the trail (with slightly thicker wheels), my diet for the day probably had not consisted of enough carbohydrates (I had eaten some fruit, but no grains), and I think Tom was hauling. Tom and I knew we'd be on the trail for a long time. We had 77 miles to ride and it wasn't nice and highway-smooth. However, it didn't take much of trying to keep up with Tom that I felt so terrible I had to ask him to slow things down. I felt some kind of pain. It wasn't really physical, believe it or not, but mental or emotional. I was not enjoying the ride. If we slowed down a couple miles an hour (like the pace we kept when we were talking with the bikers earlier) I could soak in the scenery and appreciate the beauty of God's creation instead of straining myself and feeling rushed. I'm very thankful we stopped concerning ourselves with being in Washington by an earlier hour and just relaxed and took it all in.

Ultimately, I saw a handful of creatures that day. First, I saw red fox slinking into the woods. The next big animal was a deer that darted out from behind a bridge (which nearly scared me out of my skin). And there were a lot of smaller critters too. Squirrels, turtles, toads. Insects too (the mosquitos were on the attack any time you stopped more than 5 seconds in the shade). And birds would glide gracefully across the path right in front of me. I saw my first cardinals and really pretty blue birds called Indigo Buntings (I think that's the name... thanks, Joe).

The bluffs were amazing. Towering above us on the left. Sometimes I'd be focused on the trail and peer upwards in the direction of the trees to see 20-30 (sometimes more) feet above me were white, gray, and yellowish cliffs. And occaisionally, I would glimpse of the Missouri. It was a grand river... bigger than any I had seen since leaving Colorado. We saw no boats on the river (I was told the flow is too high right now), only the small mud brown waves flowing uninterupted at the center and lapping at the shore on the sides.

My imagination ran wild. I can only imagine what all this scenery would look like to a passerby riding a ferry or a boat as they rocked down the Missouri. Indeed, as I rode my bicycle and observed teenagers playing with switches and encountered a woman with a mystical (in a good way, I assure you) presence, I thought it was no wonder Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer were so popular. Well, Mark Twain had a lot to work with if he used this place for inspiration (well, he used the Mississippi, but same idea). I later wrote in note in my phone, "this is where fiction lives. Put down your book and just see for yourself."

Most of the day, I just enjoyed the adventure and the journey. But, I want to return to the pain I felt in the morning. I was hurting (not in the physical sense, not really) when we were rushing. God taught me something in that and here's what I later wrote:

"Live in each moment. We get so caught up in what we have to do that we don't take the time to realize the life we have."

I have been disconnected from reality at times (e.g. nearly all of my fall 2008 semester). I have been so caught up in a task that I forget just what it is that life is about. I lose sight of the importance of the big picture as I'm wrapped up in some menial, (and let's face it) sometimes meaningless tasks. However, I don't think life should only be enjoyed when you're unencumbered by responsibilities. I believe that in each moment we can have feeling and an awareness of life. That despite regretful circumstances and difficult times during the fulfillment of a responsibility we are not a slave to discomfort.

How do we enjoy life amidst monotony, pressure, or pain? I don't see why there shouldn't be a way. And that morning here is how I did: I stopped ("be still"), calmed my heart to find out what was bothering me, and I asked myself "why do I live?" I flocked back to the truth that is my foundation (which never fails to comfort me). My life is in Christ. My purpose defined, worries relieved, hope fulfilled, and struggles abated. So, we changed our pace because I realized there was more to that moment than what I was seeing. More than trying to keep up with Tom and simply travel the 77 miles. God was there in my midst. I just had to slow down and look around.

Jefferson City, Missouri (part 2)

2009-06-13T18:18:00.003-06:00

I ran upstairs to gather Tom and head out of the hotel so we could go to the Salvation Army with David. Soon, we were in his green 4runner and driving the short distance to serve supper. I met some of the youth (a girl who had far too little sleep with only 11 hours, her friend, and April) and some adults who I would serve with.

I washed my hands in a large basin that had foot pedals to control the flow of water then I pulled on my disposable rubber gloves and got to work. Actually, it was mostly chatting for a while. Around 5:15pm we started serving the oncoming line. The people who came through are down on their luck and need a hand to get back on their feet. The Salvation Army gives them a place to live and food to eat for several months, but not too long (they are there to learn skills and they must seek employment while they are in the Salvation Army).

I got to eat supper after we were done serving (which didn't take long at all. Maybe 15-20 minutes. Tops). A nice gentleman (Glen) from the church spoke with me about the time in the limelight (my words, but it's the same concept) so to speak. He said that everyone has their time to shine and this was ours. His time was canoeing across Missouri in earlier days. He also told us about his band that he's played in for over 20 years. He is one of two of the original members remaining. He's a pretty neat guy. He also had some words regarding some new additions to the church (a big, expensive project expanding the building and a new, expensive organ). His point about the expenses was that these were gifts to the church from benefactors, but that if the church has been so greatly blessed it makes the church more responsible for using those blessings. I don't want to put words in Glen's mouth, but it was my impression that perhaps he felt the church had unfulfilled potential with all of the resources it now has. If the church had little to no discretion on how to spend the large money gifts I hope they use their new facilities to minister to the community in greater ways than before.

After supper, we drove to the church and had youth group. I gave a short testimony of sorts to the kids and their parents. Most of the teens seemed uninterested (except April), but I don't blame them. I might not have paid much attention when I was their age either. Ah well. Some of the parents expressed interest anyways. The rest of the time was spent covering the youth mission trip to St. Louis.

David drove me and Tom to the grocery store where we bought fruit and gatorade. Tom also got Mike and Ikes. He eats a lot more candy and drinks more pop than me, which, despite all the exercise, I don't think is a good decision. It's his choice and his finances.

On the ride back to Hotel DeVille, David shared a bit about his experience as both a youth pastor and the minister of a church nearby. He is fairly new as the youth pastor and is establishing a foundation of trust and commitment to build the program. He seems to enjoy his work, but does have a full plate between his two jobs. For that reason, it can be difficult to spend precious time with his daughter. It is an interesting balance we must choose in order to provide for our families and have time left to spend with them.

Before going to bed that night, I spoke on the phone with Kathy and had a long conversation in the lobby with one of the deskworkers (who converted to Judiasm to marry her husband). First, Kathy and I figured out what to do for breakfast in the morning. Next, she shared that she wanted me to keep in touch with her. She felt tied in to our journey. She told me that normally, a request like mine (or a request for money) would have been ignored. Her church has limited funds for assisting people that need help and that usually she would have just rejected a phone call like mine asking for help. However, something about my journey really connected with her. She told me about "listening to your gut" and feeling the flow. The words resonated within me and despite their relative informality, I felt she was saying something beautiful. In my mind, it seemed she was describing the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit had moved her to help us despite being something very out of the norm. Indeed, normally, she would not have given us a second thought because of the church's tight budget. Before I hung up, she said, "let God guide you because it can be more fun than you can imagine." And it has been. It has been beautiful, wonderful, and awesome.

There is hardship too. My heart is sometimes heavy, but God has not failed to lift those burdens in time.

My conversation with Ashley, the deskworker, ended in her saying that she respected what I am doing. She does not like judgement and hypocrisy she feels she receives from Christians. What can I say? I think that Christians should be loving and should know and live what they believe (or say they believe). I told her that she and I are God's creation and that God created us to love one another. I think it would be fantastic to seek after the truth with a person like Ashley. She was so open in our conversation and ready to explore for what is real. Unfortunately, I may not see her again and I don't know if she will be engaged in a conversation or situation in which she continues to explore her faith any time soon.

And shortly after that, I decided it would be best to go to bed. Breakfast was at about 7am the next morning.

We rode to Jefferson City, Missouri on Wednesday, June 3, 2009.

Jefferson City, Missouri (part 1)

2009-06-11T19:30:00.005-06:00

Tom and I slept in Wednesday morning. It was 8am when we started moving, if I remember correctly. Jeff City is only 22 miles from California (MO). The weather was not particularly attractive. Overcast, with a chance for rain. I wore my underarmor to keep my upper body warm and after we arrived at Sonic for breakfast I added my longjohns for more warmth. I ate a sad excuse for a breakfast burrito, but it was food and I can't complain. I am grateful for the sustenance.

We had nice roads to Jeff City. It was really hilly and the landscape was rolling, covered in green everywhere. Occasionally, a yellow cliff would arise on the sides of the highway where someone had cut out rock to lay down the road. It never did rain, but the clouds put a damper on my mood. It was a somber ride. Strictly business. I realized the next day that my riding sometimes became more of a chore than a pleasure.

When we approached the "big" city (it was big compared to what we were used to, but only 40-50 thousand), the roads got a little hectic. The shoulder shrunk in places and cars raced by. No close calls, fortunately. I tuned out the traffic somehow. As I think about it now, I probably should have been more nervous. My heart shudders now as I recall how close to me those cars were and how fast they were moving. But hey, I survived. (And so did Tom, of course. I kept peeking back whenever I could to make sure he crossed on ramps and exits safely).

Kathy, our lovely host (that is, our new family for Jeff City), gave me directions to the First Christian Church at our stop in Syracuse the day before. Tom and I rode some steep hills to the Capitol and took a lot of pictures of the building and statues. I wish we had more time to soak it in. Very pretty and full of history (a lot of tributes to Jefferson and Lewis and Clark).

At last, we arrived at the church and were immediately greeted by Kathy. We put our bikes in the custodian's truck in the back of the church (Kathy arranged for the custodian to give us a ride in his truck to our hotel. Yes, hotel. We stayed in the Hotel DeVille thanks to the generosity of several people at the church, as I later found out from David, their youth pastor). We walked back upstairs and met a woman working in the office and David. We arrived in the city early (around 12:30pm) and beforehand, I was afraid we would not have much opportunity for fellowship (and I wasn't really sure where our meals would come from either). However, during conversation with David, Tom and I committed to helping serve supper at the Salvation Army (which Kathy did mention the day before on the phone) and to share our story with the youth group at their weekly meeting.

The custodian drove us to the Hotel DeVille and Kathy checked us in and waited for us in the lobby to take us out to lunch (at some point between meeting her in the church and driving to the hotel she offered to take us to McDonald's). After dropping off our gear, we joined Kathy downstairs and she helped us figure out how to solve our laundry situation (I needed to sign a liability waiver in case I injured myself operating the machines at the hotel and Kathy also gave me some money for detergent and the machines).

Before lunch, we drove to the post office to drop off the church's newsletters. There, we were able to share our story with three fellas in the office (which was a unique atmosphere... I would have loved to see how everything works). We shared with Jim, Rick, and Cedric. They all showed interest and support for our journey. Jim called his uncle near Washington, MO trying to help us find a place to stay and Rick and Cedric gave us some cash to help with food. I am not used to this kind of love. Even after weeks of receiving it from complete strangers. It is still so unexpected and I am forever grateful.

We left the post office and bought lunch in the drive-thru. Kathy then took us to her house to eat the meal. She warned us before going in that there is about a 10-year age difference between her husband and she and not to be surprised. Well, that doesn't really matter to me :). Her husband, Earl, was a delight. He has a great sense of humor (and Kathy has a great sense of patience ;)... kidding, kidding. I can tell they enjoy one another). We ate our lunch and visited and discussed routes to take. Several people had brought up the Katy trail to go east to St. Louis to avoid highway traffic and to enjoy scenery. By lunchtime, Tom and I had made the decision not to take the Katy trail because the gravel would be too rough for our tires.

We finished eating and Kathy offered to take us for a tour. Earl decided to join us and he drove. There are a lot of details in conversations that I lose between writing these blogs and when they occur. I need to try to keep up better. However, if my memory serves me correctly, here's a couple of really simple tidbits: Earl was involved in the Vietnam war and had worked as a painter for 20-some years and Kathy and he have several children between them (I want to say five and both have kids from past marriages). They were a very cute couple to observe. We saw some of the city and we drove out to the Katy trail. Tom and I thought at that time it was the right choice to avoid the gravel. Earl took us back to our hotel before too long so that we could settle in and be ready for David to pick us up for serving supper at the Salvation Army.

It was during that break that I made several phone calls to try to make arrangements for the following day. As I mentioned before, Jim (from the post office) tried to reach his uncle in Washington to get us a place to stay. Tom and I had planned to stay in Union because it was on the highway we were going to travel (that is, highway 50), but all three men we spoke with at the post office said that Washington was far more lovely a place. After checking out a map, we decided that Washington was not too far out of the way with a little re-routing, so we decided to call churches there.

I don't remember all the details of my calls, sadly. I remember speaking with the pastor of the First Assembly of God Church (named Paul) and he explained that he wanted to help, but that they had already used all their yearly beneficiary funds to help out people with their mortgages and electric bills. He went into great detail as to how the people of his congregation are having hard times. He said that a lot of folks who hadn't lost their jobs were being retained at only 2-3 days a week, which was just not enough to make it by. And I needed to hear that. In the first two days in Missouri, it was not clear to me the reasons why some churches had been unresponsive. No one that had denied us help had been courteous enough to go into the details of their situation like Paul did. I was really touched by his openness and his tender heart and I was glad to hear the story of the way his church is helping their community. Perhaps this story was common throughout Missouri.

Since he could not help us, he gave me the phone number of St. Peters United Church. I called and spoke with another Paul (Paul K.). Paul K. said he should be able to help us out (his church would be hosting a group of bicyclists riding for Habitat for Humanity in a week and he also had a friend in mind that might be able to take us in) and that he was interested in reading my blog. He told me he would call later to let us know where we would be staying, but that we would have a place in Washington. That was very welcome news. He also told us to take the Katy trail because it is a shorter distance than taking the highway, more scenic, and without the hassle of traffic. I told him my concerns about our tires and he told me that we would be fine. And after later throwing the idea out to Tom (who checked some info online) we made up our minds to take the Katy trail.

Next, I started working on the blog and facebook (uploading photos) and before I knew it, David was calling me to let me know he was outside the hotel.

------
To be continued... it's late (1:30 am). I guess that's what happens in a new timezone (yay Vincennes, IN).

California, Missouri (Discouragement Continues, but God Never Fails)

2009-06-08T16:31:00.006-06:00

God is good. Whether I sleep in someone's home, a church, or my tent, that is God's provision. Whether I have a bed, a couch, or my sleeping bag, that is God's provision. Whether I have a home-cooked meal, KFC, or a granola bar, that is God's provision. Finally, whether I am able to fellowship with other Christians or have surface-level or even deep conversations with complete strangers I am blessed by God to be alive, for the air in my lungs, and the capacity of others' hearts to seek something more. To seek relationships, meaning, life.

I trust that every day, in some way, shape, or form, God will provide us the requisites for survival. In truth, I have been spoiled by the people we've met. There is always someone who has cared for us (by offering help or by just showing interest in our livelihood and our story). And each time, it has been a chance encounter. How random it is that I should talk with just the right person, or so it seems, in the end. Sometimes it takes a lot of time and effort before our paths cross. Other times it's almost like they are expecting us and are ready to humbly serve us before they even knew of us. What I'm trying to say is, no matter the circumstances, God is good. I should never fear.

As I mentioned before, I feel like I have been spoiled. In any given place, God's love pours out in abundance from the people who host us. These are spectacular people. Christians. And as I leave, because I have been sheltered from negativity, judgement, and evil, and because I have been greatly cared for, perhaps I expect that everyone will be as loving. In each city, I become accustomed to the kindness, generosity, and servanthood that I encounter, which I know I do not deserve. That said, each time I venture anew, I am awakened from the haven of security, peace, and love and the second I leave the doors of our hosts I am at the mercy of whoever crosses my path. Occaisionally, the result is negative. Most of the time, it has been positive.

Well, on to my story. The ride from Warrensburg was pleasant. Great weather, albeit a little muggy. Still, it was cool in the morning. Justin and Shamus saw us off and gave us directions back to highway 50. That morning I saw several things of interest while riding. Let me start with the B-2 bomber. We rode near Whiteman Air Force Base in Knob Noster (the launching point of the B-2 bombers) and we saw one of the paper thin, black aircrafts stealthily streaming by. Pretty sweet. I also noticed a transition in the type of road kill. Great. I saw several failed attempts at real-life frogger and even more turtles that will never see another turtle race.

Our first long stop was in La Monte. We stopped at a Casey's General Store (these are a common gas station/convenience store in Kansas and Missouri) to break and make phone calls. A million. I probably was on the phone for over an hour. This is where I became more discouraged by the churches we called). I met dead ends in California, MO because secretaries had to talk to ministers or they passed us on to call another church or two. It so happens they have a system in place in California to handle our kind of request. The churches share a ministerial fund and each month a different church or two is in charge of directing the use of those funds (so that each church shares the responsibility of helping people). We were referred to the church in charge for that month (the United Church of Christ). I remember we had to call back later because the secretary had to talk with the pastors (who were all in meetings) first.

Here is an important point, before I continue. Tom and I do not request money of anyone. We request a roof over our heads, which could be provided by a member of the congregation(via their home) or the church via their building (or if those are not possible, a yard somewhere to set up our tent). However, we have gratefully accepted the generosity of our hosts in whatever form they choose (which has included motels or even a hotel). The great thing about a home or a church is the fellowship opportunities we have with the people we meet (the stories I hear, the lessons I learn, our journeys crossing and lives impacting one another).

Despite the clarity I thought I conveyed in our unique situation, churches continually passed the buck or limited themselves to one or two possible solutions. I saw a box. Within its fine lines were requests for help. These requests had to fall under a familiar category (of migratory vagrant or missionaries asking for help, for example) and submitted within a specific time period. One repeated confusion of some churches we called in the first two days is which category we fall under (vagrants or missionaries). So, first, they needed more time to discuss. Most of the time, they decided we did not fall under either. I believe their typical response to a call for help similar to mine is to throw some money at the problem (get them money for food and put them in a motel). I was asking for a more relational, interactive solution (I wanted to meet some folks no matter where we stayed, share my story, and learn from them). In California, only one church was in charge of the funds a month at a time and later on that church's decision was that our cause was not within the box. In the end, they conveyed their solution: "sorry, we just can't help you." That said, I wrote a lot in my journal about my disappointment with how the church seemed to be handling our request. They did not seem to be able to think quick on their feet or think outside their box to solve our problem.

Sorry for the drama. This was a very long break from riding. It was frustrating.

Meanwhile, I also called churches in Chamois, our next day's stop (Tom liked the name so we were going to stop there, going out of our way a bit). That turned out to be a dead end as well because of the small size of the city. I talked with one pastor, but he could not help (but was helpful) and suggested staying in another, larger town (since there would be no full time staff available at the churches to take our calls). So, I quickly asked Tom if there was anything wrong with trying Jefferson City (Tom had planned out the route, so he knew what stops he picked and why. I thought it would be neat to see the capitol of Missouri anyways). He said that would be fine. A shorter trip, but fine (we'd make up for it the next day). So I made some phone calls there too. I probably only called three churches there. When I called the First Christian Church, I spoke with Kathy, who suggested I try calling the Presbyterian Church first, but then if nothing worked out told us to call her back. I was so sick of making phone calls, I have to admit, I never did try to call the Presbyterian Church.

We were back on the road. Finally. We stopped in Sedalia for lunch. Subway. Five dollar foot-long spicy italian. That's what I always get. Talked with some folks there. They confirmed that rain was forecasted for the afternoon (Shamus and Justin warned us that morning), so Tom and I headed out once again to try to beat the storm. I probably made a couple calls before leaving. Yeah, I'm sure you're as sick of hearing about them as I was making them.

Riding was freedom. The road shoulders were potholed and rough. Then non-existant in places (that may have been better because the road was actually smooth). Around 3 pm I decided to call back the United Church of Christ (the ones in charge of the ministerial fund), so Tom and I pulled off the side of the road. The secretary transferred me to the pastor, who said, as I mentioned before "I'm sorry, I just can't help you." (note: it didn't sound like he was sorry. That is, he didn't say it like he meant it).

I felt: "okay, I cannot be upset, God will provide, but how?" I responded, "That's okay, I understand." I brought up that we have a tent and I asked for anywhere we could set it up. He finally gave me the number for the City Hall.

I called City Hall. I explained my story to the woman who answered. She gave me the number of Parks and Recreation and also asked if we had tried St. Paul's Lutheran church. I had Tom remember one number and I remembered the other two because I didn't have a piece of paper. I called the Parks and Rec. first and left a message (I wanted to know if we could sleep in the park, perhaps under one of the shelters). Then I called the St. Paul's Lutheran church. Pastor Pete picked up (which was fortunate, he usually had the day off, but was there writing his book). He first mentioned the ministerial fund, but I quickly told him that the particular church offered no help. Then he asked me some questions to verify the validity of the purpose of the funds and offered to put us in a motel, take us to dinner with his wife, and give us two books he authored. Wow! Praise God! Thank you, Pastor Pete! He told us he had a meeting at 7pm (I think) and I told him we would "make haste!" I don't know where that came from, but there you go.

And make haste we did. It was scorching hot and there were some pretty killer hills, but we crushed them. Tom observed that we must've been pretty "amped." We stopped in Syracuse and I had a message from Kathy (in Jefferson City). I called her back and told her that I had not talked with the Presbyterian Church and she offered to help us when we stopped in the following day. God is good. Back on the road.

The storm was on our heels by Tipton. After Tipton, as I turned a bend, I thought, "it smells like rain." I looked in the thick woods to see if the source was within. And in ten seconds I was riding on wet pavement. We had just missed a shower that fell in front of us! We traveled in a pocket of dryness that last hour (one storm before us and one behind us). Pretty fortunate.

We arrived at the motel around 5pm and called Pastor Pete. We had a little time to settle in to the motel (which had been paid for when we arrived) and I showered before leaving for supper. He gave us two of his books before we drove off and explained a little about them. For supper, we had a buffet meal, which was fantastic. I ate to my heart's content and my taste buds' delight. Well, that's exaggerating, but it was good.

Pete was a brilliant guy. Conversation was interesting. He had a lot of knowledge to share and I wish I could have picked his brain longer. This man was an example of the pursuit of God through knowledge. He sought to learn just about all ways that others have explained and applied the Bible's teachings so that his sermons were not repeating those. Fascinating guy trying to dig deep into scripture to learn it all. His wife, Jan, was a very pleasant person to chat with too.

Pete and his wife dropped us off at our motel and said goodbye. Our time together was short, but he blessed us greatly.

We rode to California, Missouri on Tuesday, June 2, 2009.

Warrensburg, Missouri (part 2: The Start of My Discouragement by the Church)

2009-06-07T18:55:00.004-06:00

God reminded me not to worry in Manhattan and then Wamego, Kansas about where I was staying the night. He would provide and he has never failed. That said, I did not have to seek much help in Kansas for my reassurance that we would be provided for. Typically, within two or three calls someone offered help. In Missouri, that all changed.

As of our first day of riding in Missouri, we had no places to stay for our entire trip in the state. This is because once again all our riding, followed by spending uninterrupted time in community, and then reading and writing occupied much more time than was required to make phone calls far in advance. That, and I am sole phone call maker. It is time consuming, but sorta necessary. Tom and I stopped before lunch and started making calls. I left messages when no one picked up. We had only written two phone numbers to try (because that was all that was needed in Kansas), but decided I better do a quick google search on my phone for more to call. I don't remember if I was able to reach anyone at that time, but I resolved to try again later.

Tom got his first flat of the trip shortly after a break in Pittsville. I was cruising and lost sight of him around a bend. When I get going I typically don't like to stop because I don't want to lose my groove. But after the hill I was climbing levelled off, I stopped. No Tom. I waited a couple minutes. Still no Tom. I turned my bike around and started walking the other direction. Soon enough I saw him riding up the hill. He had to stop to refill his flat tire by hand pump. We were cautious the rest of the way to Warrensburg, but the tire held.

Not having made any arrangements on approach to Warrensburg, I thought to myself while riding that perhaps we should try to stay in Knob Noster. Maybe we weren't meant to stay in Warrensburg since every single church we called was either unable to help or unavailable to answer the call. I distinctly remember a pastor telling me that he had to leave in five minutes and couldn't help. I also remember asking him if I should try to call the secretary (because in Kansas, if I had been able to talk with someone on the phone, we had found a place to stay) and see if she could help (personally, that is). However, the pastor, in a very negative and discouraging tone replied, "I don't see how that would help." As if to say, "don't try it, we don't have the time or the desire to help you." Other churches simply didn't know how to help us. They tried to figure out what system they had in place to help requests like mine. In my mind, and according to my experience, my request did not require a system, but either a kind stranger (which certainly can be hard to find on short notice) or a church or even a lawn to set up camp. I have three theories on this matter: either I did not convey our needs well, they did not want to help, or they did not know how to help. I was certainly a little discouraged after talking with four or churches and having no leads on where to sleep and though I was unafraid (I believed I would be safe no matter what), I really would appreciate a roof again.

I heard stories of Missouri being less than friendly to Bill (from Topeka) and in my eyes that started to become true for me and Tom as well. I was starting to see Missouri as an unwelcoming, inhospitable place, where the people do not care. But, of course, I should not use my unsuccessful interactions with the people from those churches as the blanket situtation of all Missouri. It was a tempting thought. To get a little angry with them for not appearing to have the slightest care... not even offering ideas as to where we could pitch tent. So, as I said, we even tried to find a place in Knob Noster ten miles east (at least there was a State Park there where we could perhaps camp). However, finally, both of the last two churches I called in Warrensburg helped (churches number 5 and 6). The time was near 5pm. The first church gave us the number of Northside Christian Church, which is ulitmately who we connected with.

I called Northside and spoke with the secretary (Julie) who gave us permission to camp outside their church. After dinner (KFC was less than appetizing, I must say, but it filled the void in my stomach) we rode to Northside. Before we picked the spot for our tent, I decided to talk with whoever I could find to ensure someone knew we'd be there. That's when I first met Shamus and Justin. Vacation Bible School (VBS) just ended for the day and they were actually about to come out and greet us.

The good news was that Justin knew we would be there and told Shamus (just before we met). I shook Shamus' hand first and he asked if we needed anything (I left Tom with the bikes at the back of the building where we expected to camp). I said, "we should be all right" and that we had just eaten, but that was before he mentioned showers. Oh yes, a shower would be nice. It had been a hot day and I felt grungy. And before long, he had shown me the kitchen (and said we could more or less help ourselves) and the bathroom with the showers. I was in awe at the hospitality. I was expecting a lonely night... full of time to be tempted to be bitter about some of my conversations with churches earlier in the day. That would not have been good and I know it.

Praise God for rescuing me from that opportunity to be resentful. And praise God for good men like Shamus and Justin. After Shamus offered me a shower, I thought that it couldn't hurt to ask if we could sleep indoors. And he accepted without hesitation. He wanted to know, of course, what time we'd be leaving in order to warn the appropriate people that there would be strangers sleeping in one of the rooms when they arrived (we were up well before then). Justin left while Shamus was showing me the church facilities and Shamus asked once more (after Tom and I brought our things in) if we needed anything. Not that we could think of.

Before the end of the night, I had the opportunity to meet Cliff (a retired gentleman who worked for a truck manufacturing company) who was at the church to investigate a leaky toilet. I don't think he found it, but I was glad to meet him and share stories and life with him. He walked away for a while and Justin returned. There with Justin was his daughter Hannah and two white plastic bags. They had brought us fruit, granola bars, and Gatorade! Wow! It is these unexpected acts of kindness that blow me out of the water every time... When Shamus showed me the kitchen earlier, the only thing I asked about was whether they had any fruit (because that was definitely lacking in our diet that day). So, I got to visit with Justin too. His daughter was adorable (five years old, starting kindergarden and tying shoes).

Later in the evening, Cliff returned to see how we were doing and showed me where they had a washing machine and dryer. I already hand washed my shorts and shirt with the bar of soap my Mom sent me with. Starts with an N. Nepthah or something? Anyways. The dryer was useful in the morning.

I woke up at 6 or 6:30am and started getting ready. I usually get up before Tom. I take longer to pack. By 8am, we were able to say farewell to both Justin and Shamus and hit the road again. Missouri wasn't so bad after all. Well, those fellas showed me just how great some of the people there are... even though I started out with some negative experiences and corresponding negative thoughts, these guys refreshed me and restored my positivity. God blessed me through them when I least expected it and I pray God blesses them (and their church) greatly and that they may continue to live in a way pleasing in his sight.

We rode to Warrensburg, Missouri on Monday, June 1, 2009.

Warrensburg, Missouri (part 1: My Spiritual Distress Calmed)

2009-06-05T21:12:00.005-06:00

Bill (in Topeka) had warned us about Missouri roads (with potholes and no shoulders) and hills. The ride out of the city was a little complicated, but safe. The hills were manageable. Eventually we hit highway 50 and started to make good time.

It's tough to dredge up memories from that ride... it was a while ago and I'm not sure how to describe my mood. God had taught me that my outlook on spiritual matters and the purpose of my journey was causing me distress. That was a cause of unease starting even before we left on the trip.

I had romantic or perhaps utopic expectations (or notions) for my journey. You read stories in the Bible about men who go on journeys and interact with God and their stories all seem so grand. I think that I had a deep-seated fear that I would slip up somehow. How would I know exactly what to do at each stop? I feared maybe I was doing something wrong at times. The Bible describes encounters with God and the movement of the Spirit and I was unsure about how exactly I was being instructed to act. I had made my mission statement, but have never known what I would learn. I defined my ideas for trying to connect with God, but what if I missed something important? I didn't really want my pursuit of God to be so structured and even though I've tried to make it structured (by reading the Bible at various break points or praying for a designated period of time) it certainly hasn't worked out the way I plan most of the time. And I think that's okay.

I am a perfectionist and a planner. God's been slowly chipping away at that part of my personality because some things are beyond my control, but I still have a slight tendency to want things to go perfectly according to plan. That said, I haven't planned out much at all for this trip, which may be a good thing from this perspective.

So, will my trip be just like those experiences I've read about in the Bible? It didn't seem to be going that way. Did that mean my mission was a failure or that I'm missing something? I don't think so. The Bible seems to make these stories spectacular. I hold these stories in high regard. Amazing events and miracles take place. There is little explanation in some parts as to how the "characters" react to said events and miracles (i.e. what are their feelings, how do they view God and what He's doing). Was God's purpose for them all drawn out in bold letters that were easy to follow step-by-step? God's instructions seem so clear in the Old Testament. God certainly isn't guiding me that way. That doesn't nullify my mission. Are the people I encounter and meet on the way coincidence or God-planned? I believe there has been a special connection between me and everyone I've met so far that I don't deem as mere coincidence.

In any case, I guess I've had little foundation for my interactions with God. Unfortunately, the Bible seems to often describe events and peoples' actions without describing their feelings and emotions during those connections to God's wonders. And so, I was expecting my journey to all make sense. It all seemed mapped out pretty well in the Bible. As a result, I was trying to be "hyper-spiritual." I wanted to be able to explain everything that happened from a spiritual perspective. That includes my exposure to the ideas of spiritual warfare, speaking in tongues, prophesying, and seeing spiritual beings (like angels and demons). Trying to explain those things to myself, to logically examine them, sort of hurt my brain and tore a little at my heart. Without being raised with those aspects of faith, I struggled, wondering if something was wrong with me if I didn't understand or practice them. Here are some words I wrote after God calmed my heart about those worries:

"I was afraid there was something I should be doing, but was not. How do I know what to do, what to think, what to believe everywhere I go? I am presented with new ideas and new experiences everywhere. I have so much to learn. When I encounter something new I don't always know how to react.

"Those new ideas can complicate things. My thoughts, my faith, whatnot. I will hold fast to my core. To love God with all my heart, soul, and mind and to love my neighbors as myself. I can do that with relative ease. I believe it and I live it. Then there is a confusion about specific practices, seeing spiritual things, etc. that I simply don't know what to do. I will do whatever God tells me to. I won't be afraid of judgement if I do not believe exactly what others believe. God will show me the truth if/when it is time.

"I fell prey to something my pastor Michael warned me about. I was trying to be hyper-spiritual. I was looking for a spiritual reason for everything. My imagination would run wild as a child when reading the Old Testament. Were those stories how I should be experiencing God now? My heart became pressed to find the source of my frustration. It lie in my confusion about spiritual things I could not see nor had any experience with that kept coming up. Am I doing something wrong if I don't know what to believe in regards to spiritual attacks or angels or demons or speaking in tongues or prophesying? I don't understand those things and it made me feel wrong not to understand.

"Well, God called me back to Him in the last couple of days (because I was struggling with those complicated ideas and torn away from the truths I know). He wanted me to understand that I interact with Him in a different way than anyone else. I am no one's carbon copy. God reveals Himself in different ways and gives different instruction to everyone. I simply go where He tells me and leave my preconceived notions and scared anticipation behind." (6/1 ~1:30pm)

I don't think it's hard to see God's work just about anywhere and I believe we can see His work if we open our eyes to it. Still, my version of seeking His activeness everywhere was both overcomplicated, confusing, and unbeneficial. In the end, I must hold to the foundations built in my heart, seek God's truth, not lose sight of the whole in the midst complicating factors, and trust God has me in hand.

Kansas City, Missouri

2009-06-04T21:07:00.003-06:00

After taking our bags and bikes into Steve's appartment we headed to a BBQ place for dinner. It was called Pat's (I think) and it was owned by the same family as another nice BBQ joint, but wasn't as expensive. There's one benefit to staying with a local (or, well, someone who knows the area)! I ordered burnt ends, which fortunately weren't too burnt. The BBQ lived up to the hype. I'm not sure how good the meat really tasted because it was so loaded with barbeque sauce. During supper, Stephen some of his story with us (sort of a prodigal son-type story) about his success followed by bad choices and finally, the life he now has in Christ.

We went to an International House of Prayer church service (in a separate building from the 24-hour worship and prayer) around 6:30pm. I was very observant. I heard a lot about IHOP and I wanted to see what I could learn and experience that was new. There wasn't much different in the worship and the service was fairly difficult to pay attention to (especially after a big dinner!). There was a prayer in the beginning about abortion and (I think) Israel that everyone said together. I can't remember what the crowd all said, but I'm sure it's online somewhere. It was against abortion and for Jews to become Christian (if I remember correctly). I nodded on and off for about 20 minutes during the talk, but tried to stay awake. Eventually, I was stark awake as the speaker was talking about Israel. Actually, that's how he started the sermon too. I don't remember what he was saying at this point, but I wrote this down in my phone:

"Is this what we need to hear? Have I less faith if I don't think about the end times? How much should I concern myself with prophecy about the end times? Only as much as what Jesus says to. He told us to love. Why do we care (why do we worry) about what is to come? We do not know. Even the prophets could not know the time of the events to come. So what should we do? We should prepare our hearts and live in the Kingdom of Heaven."

After re-reading that, I think what stuck out to me was the preacher talking about fulfillment of the end times especially in terms of Israel and the middle east. Politics entered the arena a little bit, which always bothers me a little. Listen, I'm not worried about the fulfillment of the end times. They will come when they come and what will happen will happen without me trying to match up events to prophecy. All I can do is live as Jesus taught us and follow him. I have not given enough thought to Biblical prophesy yet and its importance to daily life. Nonetheless, this particular sermon was not edifying to me whatsoever. I will love the people of Israel as much as anyone else in the world.

I could have probably left sooner, as much good as the sermon did for me. Stephen came down from his security perch (he leads some security teams at IHOP) and drove us to the 24-hour worship building. He parked his truck in the back and lead us through the building to the regular entrance. I felt like I was on the "inside" being escorted by Stephen. There were a lot of people sitting and visiting outside. We went into the room and it was fairly unbusy. Still, there was a worship team of probably eight people on stage and maybe 10-15 people in the seats in the crowd. Again, I sat and observed. I tried to think about the words in the songs being sung and thought about the people worshipping up front. Were they able to connect with all the songs they sang for such an extended period of time? I couldn't connect (I was just not in the right state of heart), so we left pretty early. While we were sitting there, a piece of paper caught my eye. This paper had some ground rules about the worship room. You couldn't take your shoes off and you could only dance in designated places. Also, you could pace, but it couldn't interfere with people trying to get in and out of seats. I can understand the need for rules, but some of them seemed goofy or unnecessarily restrictive. I guess if something repeatedly (or often) interferes with others' abilities to worship it should be addressed. But I digress.

We left IHOP and went straight back to the appartment. Stephen addressed the ant problem (a recent infestation... it rained and they were coming in the cracks) with his spray as he had done before. Those ants were crawling everywhere. I hope it hasn't gotten worse. I ended up talking with Stephen about spiritual gifts because he had brought up prophesying earlier. It was useful for me to get a more full explanation of what he meant, instead of assuming I knew what he was talking about. He said that it is all meant for the encouragement of people. I sure don't know how it works (as with so many things spiritual), but I believe it happens. It's important not to lose sight of what spiritual gifts are intended for. Some of them are really outside my realm of understanding and experience, and thus I was frustrated as I encountered stories about them and tried to understand, but couldn't. Stephen said that he wants to know God's voice. He wants it to be so familiar to him that it's like picking up the phone (without caller ID) and being able to identify the caller just by voice.

I went to bed late trying to update my blog. I sacrifice some sleep, but I will appreciate it later as I am able to capture more memories in words.

Tom and I woke up around 7am and Stephen woke up at 7:30am. Steve left 10 minutes later and we were out the door shortly after. We had no plans for places to stay in Missouri, so we would be making a lot of calls that day trying to make arrangements. It turned out the first two days were our toughest to find any help at all, which was very, very discouraging.

We drove to Kansas City, Missouri on Sunday, May 31, 2009.

Shawnee, Kansas

2009-06-02T18:16:00.006-06:00

Bill and two of his daughters droves us to (and through) Lawrence, Kansas after Tom and I were ready. It was probably after 1pm and we had some 30 miles to our destination that evening. Immediately after taking my bike out of the van I noticed my first flat tire of the trip. I guess it's fortunate I wasn't riding when it happened. Bill helped change and pump the tire and bid us farewell.

The first half of the scenery for our ride was gorgeous. We stopped in a park and ate some fruit (and I made a call or two, which is not preferred over reading scripture or catching up with Tom, but it's necessary). Eventually, the highway was four lane again and we hit some steep hills on approach to Shawnee. We took highway 7 south and navigated to Ja'Zan's neighborhood. I didn't call Ja'Zan to update her on our location or ETA, but she had expected us to arrive while she and her family were at a city-wide workday for their church (in conjunction with 10 or 11 other churches). That said, Ja'Zan told us to come in and make ourselves at home. What amazing trust! She later told me a couple things regarding that: "when it comes down to it, none of that stuff is really mine" and jokingly, "if you could have taken a TV with you on your bike, good for you!" On a more serious note, she said that she had just read the scripture about welcoming strangers because you don't know if you will be entertaining angels. Somehow, her soul was at peace with inviting us in.

It ended up that we did not arrive before they came back from their service in the city. Ja'Zan showered us with hospitality. She had welcome baskets and two rooms set for us! We ate some chicken and salads (one was the typical leafy kind and one was a concoction of fruit) for dinner that night (great work, Chuck!). Tom and I learned about the project they worked on during the day (furnishing and finishing some rooms at an old appartment complex where they are now helping people get back on their feet) and I shared my testimony (about the trip) with Ja'Zan. We got to meet two of their kids, Wyatt and Holly and learn about their lives. Ja'Zan also shared about her daughter, Ellie, who is off in California trying to get her book published (a fantasy-type book, I think) and adjust to life in a new environment. All in all, I thought they have a beautiful family and I was blown away by their example of openness and love to me and Tom. Ja'Zan also bought my some cough suppressant before bedtime. That has been useful. After my sore throat subsided (it started in St. Francis and improved by Bennington) a cough settled in, but it's getting better now!

We had pancakes for breakfast and we to the church service at 10am. The service was nice and I loved worship and seeing the programs they have for the kids there. Based on what Ja'Zan told me about their missions programs (that's what she does with the church) they are very strategic and have a well-coordinated effort to spread the kingdom (especially in Thailand, India, and South Africa). While at church, I couldn't help but think "what if everyone in the church came alive?" The guest pastor asked how many people had helped in the city-wide service day. A small portion of the church raised their hands. What if all these people had raised their hands? How marvelous would that be... That's not to say that they are not "alive," but if everyone was proactive in some way about spreading the kingdom and glory of God I cannot imagine the wonders that would result.

After church, Ja'Zan gave us a tour of Shawnee and the Shawnee Missions Park (which looked like a spectacular recreation spot). We had grilled cheese and ham for lunch and then hopped in the Expedition to go to the Missouri side of Kansas City. They took us through the Plaza and we got to see some of the city. It was beautiful.

We arrived at Stephen's appartment complex around 4pm. He was outside waiting. I didn't know what to expect (we'd gotten his number from a friend, John, from school). We said a too-soon-goodbye to our new family in Shawnee and went upstairs with Stephen. He is a 29 year-old from Georgia (with the accent to prove it). He was dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt, with aviator sunglasses, and a tattoo on his right arm. He looked like one cool dude. And his heart turned out to be a tender one. He was very cool and collected and had a lot to share about his walk with the Lord.

We rode to Shawnee, Kansas on Saturday, May 30, 2009.

Topeka, Kansas

2009-06-01T19:21:00.003-06:00

I went to bed the night before somewhat believing that we'd be okay the next couple days. That night I had my third big pang of fear so far this trip. The first occurred the night before I left, when the difficulty of this journey was made more clear (because I would start the first day sleep deprived and saying goodbye to my family was too fast). The second occurred before leaving for Cope as the desolation between Byers and St. Francis was described in horrific detail (well, it wasn't as bad as I pictured it based on conversations). The third time was due to the uncertainty about the big city (Kansas City), which was accentuated by the falling through of arrangements for a place to stay there. Nonetheless, I tried reassuring myself that I was in God's hands and all would be okay. Before I fell asleep I thought about God's provision for all His creatures (e.g. the birds) and thus how much more He would provide for me and Tom.

Before we rode, it felt appropriate to pray. I was aware of Tom's fear at that point too. I prayed aloud and we left. Tom and I spent a lot more time on breaks than usual on the way to Topeka. I guess for that reason, it was a blessing the roads were flat and we had a tailwind all day. We averaged over 15 mph and only had maybe four hours in the saddle. We took the route out of Manhattan that Zach advised and got on highway 24.

There were a few bad hills early and traffic was heavy (which was foreign at that point because we'd been so isolated for so long). We stopped at a closed gas station and made calls. We snacked. We left. Our next stop was Wamego. I turned on my phone after we went inside the McDonalds. This was when I started to ask Tom about his spiritual mission for the trip. My fears that I was in this alone, that I was seeking God and Tom was not, were made foolish. I need to stop assuming things and getting worked up about those things I really don't know. Tom is quiet and not easy to read. If I want to know something, I need to not beat around the bush and just ask.

I was just starting to get some meat out of the conversation when I received a phone call! It was Ja'Zan in Shawnee, Kansas returning a call from that morning. Praise God! She was so excited to welcome us into her life and her home. Simply amazing. She gave us directions to her home and told us to make ourselves at home when we arrived (she was expecting us to beat her there since there was a big city-wide service project going on that Saturday that her family participated in). Unfortunately, I got to business right after talking with Ja'Zan instead of continuing the conversation with Tom. I called the only church we had reached prior to that day in Topeka, the Faith Family Life Center. Dean (from Cope) recommended we call that church because of a connection he had to the pastor there. I spoke with the pastor (Phil) while in Junction City the day before and I received no indication at that time whether they would be able to help. When I called again in Wamego, the secretary, Vicki, answered warmly and said that they had found someone to take care of us for the evening. In a matter of minutes, any residual fear from the night before was blown away. How great is our God!

We took two hours for lunch in Wamego instead of the usual one trying to make phone calls to the upcoming cities' churches. There was nothing new. We left and made good time. Our next big stop was in St. Mary's, where we were going to relax in a park and make... you guessed it, more phone calls (you see, we really were trying to give as much advanced notice as possible. It just hasn't worked out according to our plans). As I was taking some pictures of historical artifacts in the park, a man approached Tom and asked him what we were doing. Tom's response was that we are riding to the east coast on a spiritual journey! I was so impressed that Tom was straightforward in telling this man about the spiritual side of our mission when just a couple days before I hadn't believed in Tom's commitment to the spiritual mission at all.

So, we met Karl. I got to learn about Karl's sons and his interest in biking. I learned about his job and his men's ministry at church. It was awesome to share our story with him and to hear about his walk with the Lord. Our common interest in living in a relationship with Christ should bring Christians (even strangers) closer together like this all the time. I felt encouraged by Karl. Karl prayed for us and even helped Tom on the route planning (as I made more phone calls, der). Before we parted ways, I asked Karl if there was anything we could pray for him for. And he did share some things he's going through that we could pray for. On the next leg of the ride, I remember being full of joy and wonder at God's amazing ways of bringing people together. In my rejoicing, it was easy to pray for Karl and for others I have met on this journey.

Time flies when you're having fun. We reached Topeka. It was a scorcher (up to 92 degrees?). No worries, I drank a lot of water. Topeka was scary riding. The highway was fast and furious with cars. I'm glad we didn't get hit. We went north on Topeka Blvd and found the church. After going inside we sat and waited with Vicki and a young man named Jamon (and his three nieces) as arrangements for the evening fell into place. The first family Tom and I were supposed to stay with ended up having to cancel. So, Jamon's mom was going to take us in (but she lived all the way back in Wamego). Jamon's mom was going to feed us dinner, however. Vicki made a phone call to some people, ultimately choosing to call Bill and Michelle. She knew that Bill had experience bicycling and thought it would be a good fit. Bill agreed to have us (and it didn't seem to take much convincing).

Bill drove to the church and waited for us to finish our dinner (chicken and salad, yum!) before taking us and our bikes to his home. What an interesting home! The first thing I noticed was his son, Solomon, playing with his BB gun in the backyard (it looked like a young boy's dream - a place for adventure and imagination) and a really cute black puppy. We brought the bikes in the yard and took our bags in the house. Bill's wife Michelle did not seem phased at all by our presence even though she couldn't have known for long that we'd be staying there. This house looked like... uh, I don't even know how to describe it. Maybe eclectic. It was free from rules. There was creativity bouncing off the walls. The atmosphere was relaxed and cool.

Tom and I took showers and Bill drove us and two of his daughters (Isabelle and Arynne) to the worship service at church. It was a good experience. I was drowsy (so the message did not stick with me extremely well), there's no denying that. That makes the passage about the spirit being willing, but the body being weak (Matthew 26:41) so much more real to me. Bill played a soprano sax on the stage and that was sweet. Afterwards, several of those in attendance prayed for me and Tom. God has used those such prayers as such great encouragement for me on this journey.

We stayed up a while that night just hanging out. The family definitely had a special relationship. They were not your typical family... they were just so open and playful with one another. It was a lot of fun. Bill and Michelle have definitely instilled many great values in the lives of these youngsters. Bill gave me and Tom a lot of advice on our upcoming travels. He shared some of his stories (he's ridden great distances across this country about six times) and encouraged us to buy new tires in the morning (which we did, thanks to him driving us to the shop and waiting for us to get ready) and lose some weight (from our packs, that is). Bill also volunteered to ship the unnecessary gear (he had us take a gander at our loads and think about whether we really needed some of it) back to my parent's house. The time we spent there was invaluable. We tuned our bikes up and got some great advice and new parts (the tires and a little valve converting piece for pumping our tires). I don't know how things have worked out so well for me and Tom. In regards to the people we've met, the safety we've had, and lack of major issues.

One thing that Michelle suggested is that I look into is the Messianic Jew explanations of the New Testament and Jesus. She said it can shed new light on a lot of different passages that meant something very different in context than what we have interpreted them as. It should be interesting. I will definitely keep it in mind.

Before we left the house in the morning, the youngest daughter, Isabelle, annointed us and Michelle prayed for us. Bill drove us to Lawrence (halfway from Topeka to Kansas City) to save us some time since we went shopping for the spare tires and were far behind schedule.

We rode to Topeka, Kansas on Friday, May 29, 2009.

Manhattan, Kansas

2009-06-01T18:05:00.004-06:00

I was refreshed after Bennington. It was well with my soul. For a day I forgot any concerns I had at all and just enjoyed the ride. It was a beautiful one. Everything seemed to be lightened by splendor and majesty. It was like a painting. Picture perfect everywhere. The sun was shining and the colors of everything so brilliant and clear.

We rode 40 miles to Junction City before lunch. It was by no means very difficult. I think my muscles have developed since week one. I took the day breath-by-breath enjoying God's glorious creation. Tom and I stopped in the park at 6th St. and Washington (in Junction City) and relaxed for an hour. I could not have enjoyed the day more.

We continued north from the park into Ft. Riley. My grandpa was stationed there in 1956-57 and my Aunt Karen was born in Junction City. I have never been on a military base and I really had no idea what to expect. Some folks in Bennington warned us that we might not have access to the base because of increased security after 9-11. So, I called in advance and made sure it was permissable. Fortunately, we were able to enter after showing our state IDs. The base was beautiful and the people were buzzing around. It was sort of utopic from my perspective. Some people in a dog park, military personnel driving past us (each appeared to be on a quest or mission - even if that be just going home), families with their kids on playgrounds... everything was peaceful and serene. The army helicopter flying overhead didn't disturb the scene either. Everything seemed in its place.

When we made it through the base, we entered construction and traffic like we hadn't experienced since Denver. That should have been nerve-wracking, but I ignored the danger and pressed on. Traffic got even worse when we were inside Manhattan. We got honked at (in an aggressive, not playful manner) for the first time since Denver and there were no bike lanes or shoulders. We pulled over and called Teresa (my friend Jeff's girlfriend who just graduated from Kansas State) who gave us directions to campus and later to her house. We struggled for a while to get there, but arrived around 4:30 pm and settled in waiting for her roommate Zach to come home from work (he does research at his school regarding his major, animal sciences).

Zach was very hospitable. He's the youngest host we've had at 22 and he took great care of us. It was good to learn about him, his school, and his family's farm. We went out to eat at Pat's Barbeque, which was one of the more Manhattan-y places in town (you know, a place that is distinct in the city, not a franchise) according to his girlfriend. He bought us fried pickles as the appetizer and later at home he gave us access to his fridge (which Tom couldn't make use of because it was mostly full of beer and margarita mix ;) ). Zach was super friendly and I was glad to have met him.

The only thing I regret now is that I believe I short-changed Zach. Not in a financial sense, although he certainly gave me and Tom more than could be expected in that realm too. What I mean is, I did not engage him in any kind of spiritual conversation. I was afraid to breech the subject because I thought it might be awkward. Well, for crying out loud, I told him about a fairly personal (and awkward) health problem my youngest brother was having at the time. If that wasn't too much to bring up, why should a spiritual topic be. I don't know if he knows why we were riding our bikes across the country. I could have asked him how he was doing with his faith or if he needed any prayer. I will call him ASAP and tell him I'm sorry I wasn't open about that part of my trip with him and see what happens from there. I shouldn't be afraid to declare what I believe and why I live each day even if it might be awkward.

Zach bid us farewell and left for work early in the morning. Tom and I left late. I had to try to make phone calls to try and find a place to stay in Topeka and Kansas City. At that point we had no place to stay in the upcoming days. No plans whatsoever. We thought we'd have a place to stay in Kansas City for sure because a girl from church has parents there, but that sadly fell through (by the way, please don't worry about it Libbey. It was beyond your control and God still provided for us!). The night before, I felt a pang of fear about not having anywhere to stay in a big city. I did not want to get caught in the wrong part of town at the wrong time of day. Tom and I decided to try and stop in Shawnee, Kansas for Saturday night and Lee's Summit, Missouri the next night, so I got some phone numbers and we tried calling them in the morning. I left a lot of messages. I guess churches weren't really open that early. We were ready to leave around 9:30 am.

We rode to Manhattan, Kansas on Thursday, May 28, 2009.

Note: Did you know that Kansas is the number one producer of wheat in the US? I didn't. Thanks, Zach!

Bennington, Kansas pt. 2

2009-06-01T17:45:00.003-06:00

As I rode today, I realized that I did not do the Bennington Bible Church community enough justice in my last post. Here's some more:

Without reservation Carolyn loved me and Tom. There were no questions asked and we were accepted in their church. Her support for my mission reaffirmed in me the importance of this journey, even if I did not really have a clue what I was doing. She is definitely one of the sweetest women I have ever met.

What set Bennington Bible Church apart? Why did it feel different? I think it was the immediate acceptance of me, a stranger, and the care that everyone I met had about my life. It was outstanding. Not only did they love me, but they loved the Lord and I could see that in their commitment to reading scripture, praying, and worship. Their community (the contingent I saw anyways) was a beautiful sight to behold in their pursuit of growing relationships with God.

A comment that was made after Carolyn, Pat, Tom, and I had pizza for dinner was that "this is what being Christian is all about." About fellowshiping, loving one another, and loving God. It was an awesome time.

On our last morning there, Becca and Pat made us breakfast. They woke up early (I wanna say food was being cooked by 6:30 am) and served us. I wanted to get a picture with Pat in it too, but she politely declined on account of not being ready. I had a sudden urge (maybe a moment later) to tell both Pat and Becca that they might not have been "presentable" for a photo op, but they were certainly beautiful in God's eyes exactly as they were that moment (and they were beautiful to me too :) ).

Bennington, Kansas

2009-05-31T20:50:00.004-06:00

Before we left Tuesday morning, Justine got a call from a friend of hers in Bennington (Janice and Joe). Justine called Janice the night before in attempt to find me and Tom a place to stay in Bennington. That morning, Janice offered us help saying the first option would be to call the Bennington Bible Church and the second option would be to stay with her (she and her husband were already housing some guys in town for a rodeo). That said, Tom and I did call Bennington Bible Church first.

Justine and Art gave us a ride up to highway 18. We took pictures, said goodbye, and Tom and I were in the saddle once again. This day of riding was supposed to be fairly short. I thought it would be 40-ish miles, but it turned out to be 50 miles (as Art had told us, but I had hoped was wrong). I think that because I was falsely expecting a shorter day the ride seemed even longer. We were also fighting the wind in the morning, which is always tasking.

We took a lunch break in a cemetery near Beverly. I called Bennington Bible Church and spoke with Carolyn, the wonderful secretary. She took my phone number and my blog site saying she would call us back. I put on some warmer clothing because the sky was spitting and it was a little chilly. I had a long time to check out the cemetery before we were back on the road.

By our next break Carolyn had called me back and left me a phone number to reach her at. I tried the number and got ahold of her husband, Jerry. Because of the bad cell service I dropped three calls before I got her cell phone number from Jerry. Then I couldn't hold a signal long enough to talk with Carolyn. She left me a message saying that we could stay in the church (which was fantastic news!), but I wanted to touch base about any other plans for the evening, so I rushed over the next few hills trying to get cell phone service again.

Within a mile of Bennington the rain started pouring. I had my jacket readily available and I slipped it on. The rain stopped as quick as it started and we were riding north through Bennington to the church. We arrived at the church and were greeted by the pastor's daughter, Mickinzi (sorry if I spelled it wrong ;) ). She was a sweet little welcoming committee. She took us to her dad, Todd, and we were shown around the church.

The church was a very nice building considering the population of Bennington is only about 700. Their congregation is about 200 strong and something felt different there as soon as I arrived and began meeting people. Mickinzi made the sweetest welcome card I have ever seen (and it totally made my afternoon). Someone dropped in and left us a note and snacks in the kitchen before our arrival too (which I found out was orchestrated by Carolyn). I finally got to meet Carolyn later in the afternoon. She was shopping for a barbeque her daughter was throwing on the one year anniversary of a tornado that took out her dog kennel and half the dogs (that's her daughter's business). Carolyn brought us a rotisserie chicken, salad, milk, and gatorades. She opened the whole church to us. I also had the pleasure of meeting members of one of the praise bands too. They were all so friendly and I felt God's love pour out from our interactions and I saw their desire to pursue Him in scripture, prayer, and fellowship. I was in awe of this community. It was immediately clear that God is doing some really cool things in this church.

Before the end of the evening, Carolyn told me that there was a 40% chance of rain in the morning. Truth be told, I was really looking for an excuse to stay an extra day because I felt something tugging at me there. That said, I jumped at the opportunity to spend another day to get spiritually right. I felt a little off in the past couple days. I think since Plainville or Hill City.

I had started to feel a burden. That maybe Tom was not in this mission on the same level as I was... I felt like he wasn't trying to connect with God like I was. Well, Tom's a pretty quiet guy and won't really open up without me asking him questions and I hadn't gotten much out of him in regards to what he wanted from this trip. When I wrote the mission statement he agreed with all the parts, but didn't seem to have any passion to actually follow through with them. He acted very nonchalantly about the entire spiritual side of the trip. When we expounded upon the mission statement most of the additional details came from me. He expressed his consent, but I didn't feel any excitement from him. I wasn't really sure what his mission was. I was glad to have him, but I didn't feel any support. I feared his motives might be a hindrance to my mission. What if he has a mission that does not align with mine and as a result forces me to do something I'm not comfortable with. I don't know. I had asked him about why he was coming, but he had very limited responses along the lines of "it felt right." I think my discomfort finally hit a boiling point and I opened up about it to Carolyn (although, I should have talked with Tom first). Another reason for my unease is that he hadn't responded positively to my attempts in asking him about his spiritual experiences thus far (that is, he seemed to be just along for the ride). I did talk with Tom on the trip from Manhattan three days later and I was reassured that he is in it for spiritual growth too (albeit a little different from my own pursuit) and I'm not alone.

I shared my story with Carolyn. She also shared some stories and she prayed with me. Carolyn was so earnest and prayed fervently. She cared about my mission more than me right at that moment I think. I believe in part that I had grown into a sense of complacency in regards to the trip. I had accepted that I would do it long ago, but I'm not sure I really understood (and I still don't fully understand) the implications of this journey. The spiritual high I was on when God first told me to come on this journey had warn off. I had a struggle the week before leaving because I was not excited as I thought I should be. I really didn't know what to expect from the trip (would I have fantastic revelations, would this be like a Biblical story played out before my eyes, etc.). Well, I take that back. I felt under pressure that something great had to happen from this trip. My expectations were undefined, but high. In addition, I had become afraid of how my trip was developing. I had not spent any time in scripture (because we had not set aside the time. Now I have suggested to Tom that we read at every break and I think he supports that idea) and my prayer while riding has not always been easy. I feared that I was failing to fulfill my mission. Yes, I was physically riding, but there was a spiritual side of me I didn't feel was moving. I could see something special going on in the church and that comforted and encouraged me. I was surrounded by people pursuing God. That's a big reason I stayed one more day. Because the community encouraged me and my spirit needed rejuvenation.

The next morning, I woke up with the following scripture in my head: "Be still and know that I am God." For whatever reason, it was in my head and it reaffirmed my decision to stay that day. Tom and I went to bible study at 6:30am. The fellas were really nice and we had a good conversation. Pastor Todd took us out to breakfast afterwards at a local cafe. Good food. We came back to the church and I took a two hour nap. Then Tom and I went to Carolyn's house for lunch, laundry, crossword puzzles, etc. It was a very good day. After Carolyn's house we went to the church for a prayer meeting (which was honestly tough for me because I was sleepy, but I was so impressed by the hearts of the women praying). After prayer, we left for dinner. Carolyn and Pat (a lovely woman and mother of Becca, who is in the praise band from the night before) drove us to Minneapolis, Kansas for pizza.

The company we had in Bennington could not have been better! Everyone we met was fantastic and I just loved them. Carolyn has an amazing heart and she was precious. On our final day, two angels arrived and made us breakfast (Pat and her daughter Becca). The smell of bacon wafted upstairs to the high school room we were sleeping in. We said some final goodbyes, took pictures, and were off again.

We rode to Bennington, Kansas on Tuesday, May 26, 2009. We also stayed Wednesday, May 27, 2009.

Notes:

-We were going to go to Junction City on Wednesday. We did not have a place set up to stay, but were considering a homeless shelter on the advice of a Catholic church. That sounded promising.

-I did not get much into scripture on Wednesday even after recognizing that was something I was being convicted of. I decided that the message of being still was also significant. I need to trust God. Calm my own thoughts of worry and confusion and keep following Him. I need to slow things down. When I wake up I need to pray and start my day in His presence. Instead of getting up and "go, go, go" right away, I should consider God, this life, and why I live.

-I talked with Tom on Friday (after Manhattan) in more depth and I was reassured that his purpose for this journey is spiritual. I was glad I asked. I am taking more initiative in fulfilling my mission because otherwise it will slip by and I won't be happy letting opportunities escape me.

Sylvan Grove, Kansas

2009-05-29T16:44:00.006-06:00

Daryl took us to breakfast early (around 6:45am) and we had some tasty breakfast sandwiches. The weather was fairly cool all morning and the sun was shining. I remember seeing more and more trees. That excited me. I also saw more and more roadkill. That disgusted me. However, the landscape was gorgeous. The air was also noticeably more humid.

I don't recall a lot from the ride now except a few things. First, a turkey scared me half (well maybe just a tenth) to death as it flew away from the side of the shoulder. I should probably look ahead so I don't get so startled. Within another mile the other half of me was scared to death. This time a skunk popped out of the brush near the shoulder and as I rode near it it turned tail about four feet away. I thought I was in for it! I swerved and I nearly shouted but suppressed my voice enough to say something along the lines of "uhhhhh" (probably louder than I should have considering the skunk might have been frightened already). Fortunately, we were spared, but I really thought we'd have a surprise for our host that night.

About 100 feet after we encountered the skunk I saw a black truck at a stop sign nearby and as we approached the driver said "look who it is!" It was Julie's (from Hill City) brother, Jeff (I'm pretty sure that's his name). We had a nice powwow and I told him about the skunk, which we all saw galavanting down the shoulder from where we had come.

We made great time. By 2:30pm we had arrived at the Sinclair gas station a couple miles north of our host's farmhouse. Justine was the first person to reply to our communication about a place to stay and food to eat. I called up to Sylvan Grove by the Friday of Chapter Camp (two Fridays prior) and she emailed my by that Sunday night saying we'd have a place to stay. She and her husband Art drove up separately to pick up me and Tom (and our bikes, which rode in Art's truck). Justine was a beautifully kind woman (and not elderly, if she's reading this ;) ). I found out right away that she had taken in a bicyclist before. We arrived on the farm, unloaded our things, showered, and went downstairs to visit in the kitchen.

Their house was so beautiful. I have never seen a farmhouse like this before! There was history all over the walls, character in the halls, and something just felt magical... like something out of a movie. Justine and Art gave us a tour of the city of 350 (we got to see some historic sites and go inside their Lutheran schoolhouse which was probably a century old) and told us about the history of the town - the farm rivalries, the wealthy banking/politician families, and where the name of their town comes from (all the groves within the trees where they would meet together). They shared about their family including their childrens' professions (Justine's only disappointment is that there was not an engineer in the family :P ), some family history (like the Portuguese sailor on Justine's side), and what they do on the farm. I soaked it all in.

Justine and Art have a fairly simple life on the farm. However, Justine is pretty interested in political topics and Art has an incredible knack for math and science. He got his degree in English, but was only six credit hours from having a Bachelors in math. There are some non-trivial issues in the small town life. Justine is trying to bring a convenience store back to the town and started making a business plan for review by the city's committee. Art has to deal with the inconsistency of moisture for his crops and the fluctuations of prices on hogs, cattle, and crops. Some years are good and some years are bad. Nonetheless, they shared with me and Tom all they had without reservation. Justine was one of the most naturally hospitable people I have met thus far. She would take anyone in. No questions.

One thing that sticks out about my interactions with Justine is that she seemed a little beside herself that God has not given her a mission like mine. She seemed eager to do something for God, but couldn't because He hasn't told her to take a trip like this one. I wanted to reassure her that it is clear God is using her in her little town of Sylvan Grove and that His calling is different for everyone.

For breakfast the next morning we had scrambled eggs and pancakes. They made enough for an army. I guess the last cyclist they hosted ate a ton. I warned them that our appetites were not too big, but they didn't feel put out by us not eating everything.

I cannot share enough about these two amazing hosts. They have a different lifestyle than anyone we've met, with different concerns, and different connections to God. They did not seem as active in their pursuit of God through scripture or prayer (as some other hosts), but their love and hospitality showed they still follow Him. My prayer for them is that they encounter God no matter what activity or project they are working on and know that He is with them desiring constant companionship.

We rode to Sylvan Grove, Kansas on Monday, May 25, 2009 (Memorial Day).

Tom's Video Blog

2009-05-27T18:29:00.002-06:00

In case you are interested, my riding partner Tom Begley is keeping a video blog of the journey. His web address is http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=386044265599B59B

Plainville, Kansas

2009-05-26T22:50:00.002-06:00

We arrived in Plainville around 8pm. I was afraid the whole drive that something would happen to one of my bags, but everything arrived safe and sound. Nancy (Julie's sister-in-law) dropped us right off at the Church of the Nazarene and Daryl and his wife met us outside. Daryl took us inside his gym and we left our bags and bikes inside before going to his truck to grab dinner. We went through Plainville (a very quaint town) and stopped at a little food shop to get some sandwiches. I got to talk with Daryl a little about his story and about his church.

Daryl and his wife (Shona) have three girls, two of which are twins. He happened to go to school at Colorado Christian University. They had been in Plainville for five years and the gymnasium in which we stayed was fairly new (and built by the hands of members of their congregation). Daryl said he likes the small town atmosphere and that he thinks it is a great place for his family. It was really neat to have a connection to Daryl via the Westminster Church of the Nazarene (where I attend bilingual church on Sundays). He knows of the pastor there (Stan, who is now moving to larger responsibilities in the Pacific region) and the youth pastor.

Tom told me before bed that he thinks Buffalo, New York would be a good stopping place for him. I'm not upset. My plans were never set in stone except to go on this trip. However, I would like to go to Michigan to see my family. I know I have a lot of support there and I'd love to show them what I've done.

We didn't have much time with Daryl because it was getting late. Nonetheless, he is clearly a family man who greatly loves his congregation. I am grateful for his acceptance of Tom and me, providing a place to stay. He took us out for breakfast the following morning (at the same little food shop/gas station) and Tom and I left around 8am or so for Sylvan Grove.

We drove to Plainville, Kansas on Sunday, May 24, 2009.

Hill City, Kansas

2009-05-26T21:15:00.008-06:00

We left Colby pretty late. It was after 9am, but it was worth spending more time with the family. In hindsight, all our stops so far have been a little rushed. That's a part of the reason that about that time I decided to suggest to Tom that we shorten our average daily mileage from 80 to 60 miles per day. That way, we should have more time in each community (to visit, to be in scripture, etc.), more time for planning and reflecting, and we wouldn't be as exhausted when we arrived.

Our day went pretty fast. I remember we stopped by Don and Vera's farm and took some pictures (of a farm that was most likely the one next to theirs) and pushed on fairly easily to Hoxie. We grabbed lunch at a gas station and rested. We found out from a local (and from Wynn's husband Ray) that the biggest drop in elevation in Kansas is to be found between Colby and Hill City (maybe it was between Hoxie and Hill City in particular). That meant we'd end up going down in elevation about 300 feet or so, but there were still a fair share of inclines on the way to Hill City.

The scenery started to change. We started seeing less crops and more pasture. Cows are apparently very inquisitive creatures. They all stop what they are doing and intently watch Tom and me ride by. I also saw more trees, which may in turn have a correlation with the number of carcasses we saw (if you see those in advance you hold your breath, trust me). We also started seeing some neat rock formations (limestone).

We had a southern wind that day and we were riding east. That said, not having a headwind was just about as good as having a tailwind. It was just after 5pm when we arrived. We weren't expecting a place to stay for the night (I hadn't been able to connect with anyone), but I did not give up on hope that God would do something to take care of our need for shelter (besides us setting up our tent). So, Tom and I stopped at the first church we saw (the Catholic church) and I went inside to talk with whoever I could find. The father I had talked to the day before came out and asserted once again that he didn't think he could help us. He said we could come back during mass at 6pm and ask some ushers for help. Tom and I decided not to wait and headed to a gas station to buy some food for supper.

I was still not resigned to sleeping in the tent and waited almost expectantly for God to perform a miracle. And He did. While Tom was in the store, a man walking to his car asked me where I was going and how I could afford it. I explained our situation and... nope, no miracle there. Tom returned and as we were getting our bags ready to go a boy on a bicycle rode up to us. His name is Gage and he asked us where we were heading. Sometime during our conversation we learned that he attends the First Assembly of God Church. That was interesting. I had tried to contact that church the week before with no luck. Dean (our host in Cope) also gave us the phone number of the pastor there, which also yielded no results. I asked the boy the name of the pastor wondering if Dean's information was somehow incorrect but the boy said it was Stephen just as Dean told us. And some way or another, Gage offered to lead us to his pastor's house.

As it turns out, Stephen and his wife Julie had been in Kansas City all week and therefore couldn't answer their phone or check messages. They had only returned home two hours before Tom and I arrived. Gage and I explained the situation and soon enough Steve and Julie welcomed us into their home. All five of us had pizza for dinner (food never tasted as good as after any of our rides ;) ) and Steve and Julie slowly adjusted to having two strangers at their table. I personally have felt pretty at ease with being in a stranger's home each day. I'm not entirely sure why, but I feel like nothing is entirely out of the norm... it's just people.

I was impressed that Steve and Julie welcomed us despite only arriving home two hours before us. It reminded me of when John the Baptist died and Jesus went away on a boat, but a huge crowd was gathered when he reached shore. Despite being in mourning, he took compassion on them. The situation I found myself in is clearly different, but I'm glad that Julie and Steve took compassion on us strangers. By the end of the night they had extended an invitation to their church in the morning (a guest speaker from Delta, CO was in town for his 50th reunion) and they even arranged for Julie's sister-in-law to give us a ride to Plainville after church to save us the trip and give us a day of rest.

After dinner we all visited in the living room. Steve is very fascinated and interested in technology... particularly in regards to his cell phone. He was trying to work on his twitter and facebook all night. Tom and I added him as a friend and did what we could to help him address all his tasks (like getting a photo on his twitter). Everyone went to be before 11pm, but I stayed up to work on my blog. It has been a time consuming task, but a worthwhile one I hope.

When I awoke in the morning I washed my face and brushed my teeth as per ritual. I saw that Julie was reading out of her Bible aloud for herself and Steve. They read the daily segment of a one-year Bible each morning. Julie said that "scripture renews your mind" and emphasized the importance of being in the Word. As part of my mission statement and my desire to learn more about God, I should be reading scripture each day, but have not been making it a priority amidst all the other things I could be doing (namely visiting our hosts, riding my bicycle, eating, and sleeping). I could read during some of our breaks (our 10-15 minute breaks every hour or so of riding) and perhaps I should encourage Tom to join me. Now that we have decided to shorten our average daily ride, Tom and I should have some more time to pursue God in scripture after arriving in our destinations as well.

We left for Sunday school around 9am. The message of the guest speaker (Ted) was prayer warfare and spiritual warfare. One of Don and Vera's children (Carl) mentioned spiritual warfare two nights before. This is a topic I do not have much exposure to and I was curious to see what I'd learn. I'm still processing. Prayer is an important part of this journey for me because I want to learn how to pray. That is, I want my heart to match God's heart and I believe praying often is a useful, peaceful, and beautiful act.

Ted spoke with great conviction. He told us about the armor of God and protecting ourselves from the evil one. I've read about the armor of God before and I still need to digest what the Bible says in those regards. I wasn't particularly moved by this portion of the sermon. However, I noticed that Ted had a definite fire in his words to whatever end. I become wary of what is being said when I hear someone speak in this tone. During church service Ted continued by speaking about prayer. I feel as though sometimes when people talk solely about one aspect of something I lose sight of the whole. Ted started by saying "all prayer is warfare." He had the congregation repeat after him. "All prayer is warfare." I wasn't sure I agreed, so I stayed silent.

Well, that statement actually upset me a little. I was not sure how to reconcile that with Jesus's love for everyone. If I am to do everything out of love then I would have a hard time declaring war. Right? War seemed so aggressive a term to use. That's what I meant by fire earlier... strong, burning words said in a tone that you couldn't ignore.

Eventually, I decided a couple things. First, that Satan is against us, whether we realize it or not. There are temptations lurking in all our lives. And we can fight those temptations and conquer them with the help of God. Second, when we seek God in prayer, reading scripture, and fellowshipping, we are opposing Satan. That said, if you like to see it as war, I suppose you can. Maybe that gives you motivation to fight. For me, God's love is my motivation and if this is an inescapable battle I will trudge forth with love (and gratitude) in my heart for my Creator and for my neighbor, perhaps for now oblivious to the trenches and foxholes all around me. God will give me strength, prepare, and protect me when danger comes my way.

We ate dinner (that is, lunch) after church with the family and the guest pastor. I knew that Tom and I were getting a ride to Plainville, but I was expecting it during the early afternoon. We all sat in the living room for several hours and I was waiting for the word from Julie's brother, Jeff. Jeff had to leave for work and he didn't have room in his truck, so it turned out that we were going to be taken by Jeff's wife, Nancy, after the evening church service. Julie may have noticed that I was a little unhappy by the circumstances and I briefly shared my feelings of unease at having to wait. I was not so used to idle time and if I had known we were going to wait a couple extra hours I would have napped or blogged or read. Alas. Sometimes we do not have control and at the least I was happy and grateful to be with caring people, under a roof, and well-provided for.

Church service in the evening was about praying before witnessing to people in order to release Satan's hold on them. That was interesting. I think it is good to pray, but I don't believe there is a formula. There were a lot of strong opinions and beliefs preached that I haven't had exposure to and I just haven't done enough study or had enough experience to refute or accept some of what was said.

After the service, Tom and I were in a truck, speeding to Plainville at our fastest pace yet!

We rode to Hill City, Kansas on Saturday, May 23, 2009.

Colby, Kansas

2009-05-24T07:59:00.003-06:00

It seems as though Tom and I leave later every day from our hosts. On Friday, I woke up at 5:50am (I wanted to maximize my sleeping time since I had a sore throat) and hurriedly prepared myself and ate breakfast. Jeff woke up early (all of our hosts have sacrificed their regular sleeping schedule to accomodate our desire to leave early) to make breakfast and I didn't want to leave it sitting for long.

We ate breakfast and visited. Becca gave me pain killers for my throat and wrapped my knee with some bandages (surprisingly, they held up the whole day despite the tape coming undone). We left their house sometime after 7am and conditions were wonderful for riding.

Our first big stop was Bird City about 15 miles away. We ate outside a diner and interacted with the congenial locals. Next we took a break at McDonald, Kansas 9.2 miles from Bird City. There was a nice rest stop and we took out the radio to listen to the Weather Band station. We checked the forecast the night before and we were expecting winds in the afternoon (hence trying to leave early each day).

Eventually we arrived in Atwood and ate our lunch outside the Sacred Heart Catholic Church. I started to make phone calls trying to prepare for th days ahead. I was particularly concerned about Hill City. We had not been able to speak with anyone there up to that point (and it was just a day's ride away!). I finally did connect with the Catholic Church there, but the father informed me he didn't think he could help (especially since it was Memorial Day and alumni weekend).

After I finished making calls, Tom and I were on our way. The hills started immediately. The first climb took forever and the sun was hot. We had 30 miles to Colby and we traversed hills, a several-mile long construction zone (which the workers kindly helped us navigate and travel safely through), and lots more farmland. At one of our breaks a man (working for the city or county, I believe) stopped in front of us and warned us there were two more big hills with bridges at the bottoms. It was good to have a heads up and a friend along the way. The hills might not have been a problem except that we were fighting winds all 30 miles from Atwood. At least the wind kept us cool.

It got cloudy near Colby. We finally saw the city and stopped by the traintracks to call Wynn. I first called Wynn while at InterVarsity's Chapter Camp a week before. She was the sweetest woman to talk to over the phone. A great listener and engaging. She did ask her church (First Presbyterian Church) the week before if anyone could provide us a place to stay and food to eat, but everyone in her congregation was too shocked by a vandalism incident (someone sprayed a fire extinguisher in their kid's church room the night before) to respond. She said that at the least we could stay at her house. When we spoke earlier in the day (during our break at McDonald) she told me we'd be staying with her parents (and that it'd be full house with lots of chaos... I love chaos :) ).

Wynn only lived a few blocks away from where we stopped and she met us outside her house. She invited us in, gave us water, and finished making meatballs for the spaghetti that night. We put our bikes in her husband Ray's truck and got a ride to her parents'. We were welcomed straight away by Don and Vera. A lot of the family was already there. Wynn's older brother Carl and his wife (Janet, I believe), Wynn's son Cody, and Wynn's sister-in-law, Nancy. It felt like home. I felt loved by Don and Vera right away. Soon enough, I felt treated like one of the family (and Don and Vera have a big one! Forty or so grand and great-grandchildren).

Don is in his mid-80's and Vera is in her early 80's. They were still moving pretty well. Don was a farmer and a spectacular handyman (and craftsman). He's had to slow a little because he has emphysema, kidney failure, and congestive heart failure. He's on oxygen, but he's chipper. He built so many things in his house I was astounded... and all great workmanship too (apparently he can also sew!). He eventually left his farm to his second son in 1984. Ater deciding the day after Christmas (if memory serves me right) to be done, they had moved into their current home by February. That is a hardworking man. Vera was so sweet and tender with me. She told me about her pop, that she had Polio as a baby (one leg - her right - was an inch shorter as a result and she had to wear a brace, so her dad wouldn't let her run around. That said, she only didn't run while in his sight ;) ), and she gave me the house tour. She convinced me to stay for elephant pancakes in the morning. Tom and I were going to leave early, but that would have meant Don and Vera would have to get up hours earlier than normal. I decided it was better to sleep in and not be a burden to them any more than necessary (and Tom agreed).

Don said he used to ride a bike five miles to pick up Vera from her house and take her back to his for dates before they were married. It was sure cute to see Vera's face when Don brought that up.

The house was full of artifacts, pictures, Christian trappings, and love. It took a little while, but soon I felt welcomed into the family by all. Cody (Wynn's son) cooked supper and cleaned. What a good son and grandson he is. I'm impressed by his accomplishments (3.8 GPA, class President, football player) and his ambition (to go to KU or KSU so he can run a business), but I was most impressed by his thoughtfulness towards his grandma.

More family arrived shortly before bed and they had six kids! Four foster care kids and two natural. What a great group of people. Of the new arrivals, the wife was Vera's granddaughter. Such a big family! I think Don and Vera must have done a great job to raise their crop right. So much of their offspring loves God and their lives demonstrate that.

There have been hard times too. Vera is a cancer surviver, but two of her daughters died in the last six years because of cancer. I don't know how they manage the heartache, but I expect it's got to do with a firm grounding in their faith and their love and trust in Jesus Christ.

It turns out my great grandpa Donnelson was born just west of Colby in Brewster. There are ties everywhere, but now, I feel like I have family in Colby.

We rode to Colby, Kansas on Friday, May 22, 2009.

St. Francis, Kansas

2009-05-23T20:34:00.003-06:00

Pastor Dean woke up early on Thursday morning (before 5am) and started preparing breakfast. I haven't been able to sleep through the whole night since starting on this journey... I usually wake up once or twice for whatever reason (maybe just in anticipation of the day ahead) and check the time on my cell phone. Twice I've woken up 30 minutes before my alarm and in those cases I just get up and start my day earlier so I have more time to visit before leaving. Anyways, Dean cooked lots of eggs (over easy), toast, and ham that morning and sent us packing with apple sauce for a snack. It was a breezy, overcast morning and based on Dean's forecast I was anticipating the worst. And we got it.

We left Cope just after 6am and the wind made our trip more difficult from the get go. It was cold and my knees hurt. We made it the 11 miles to Joes pretty fast and I put on my wool leggings and underarmor (funny that the first time I didn't start off with them on I ended up needing them the whole day!) by the Joes volunteer fire station. It got colder just before we left. About a mile outside of the town the first raindrops hit. We stopped, Tom put on a jacket, and I brought out the trash bag to cover my sleeping bag. We rode a couple hundred feet and I stopped to put on my rain jacket too. After putting on the jacket, I was so warm that the raindrops felt like nothing on my face and my legs. The presence of the warmth actually staying inside my chest was just about all that mattered then.

About 8 miles outside of Joes we stopped for a break and I saw that the wind was blowing a sprinkler completely sideways. Tom and I teamed up against the wind by switching who was in the lead every mile or so. That way, one of us was somewhat more protected from the wind. I decided that morning that fighting wind felt different than fighting a hill. With wind you can come to a near stop when a big gust hits you. With a hill (assuming there is no wind) you struggle upwards, but you know what to expect.

About 12 miles outside of Joes the rain picked up. It was like God had turned on a sprinkler system over Tom and me. We rode through that for eight miles. I learned to love and hate "wind-carrying monsters." It all depended on which direction they were heading. If they were traveling the same direction as us, the monsters (semis or pickup trucks) left in their wake a vaccuum of air that would fill my jacket like a sail and carry me ten feet further with no effort on my part. If they were coming from the opposite direction, the monsters left in their wake a hurricane of mist and wind that made me thankful to be wearing my sunglasses... I just had to keep my mouth closed too. Every time one of those monsters came, I gripped my handlebars and bent my chest low to brace myself for the visibly impending wall of water.

We just chugged on. I don't know how, but we made it through the rain. The wind didn't stop. We stopped in Idalia, the last place with a diner before St. Francis. We ate the special, a bacon cheeseburger and fries, with chocolate milk. The folks there were very friendly and we got to share about our trip. Then we were off again. The ride was long coming into Kansas. It was a 79-mile day. Once again, I don't know how we did it. I remember seeing a lot of farmland and taking more frequent breaks.

The wind did finally let up by the time we reached St. Francis. We arrived in town and I hurriedly made phone calls to try to prepare for the coming days (calling Wynn in Colby, KS and trying to make a contact in Hill City) because it was already 4:50pm in Kansas (I was unaware of the time change before seeing the signs as we crossed into Kansas) and people would be heading home from work already. I didn't get ahold of anyone, but left messages trusting everything would be all right.

My next call was to Jeff, our host in St. Francis. Jeff contacted me when we were on our way to Byers. The strange thing about when Jeff first contacted me and left a message is that I could not recollect ever trying to call him. He said he was the pastor at the First Christian Church and I had never called there. I wasn't about to question however he had come to know about my trip, though. It turns out that the Methodist church in town relayed our information to him because he is the treasurer of a program to take care of visitors (usually vagrants, I suppose) to St. Francis. I told him my story via telephone on Tuesday after arriving in Byers and he said he'd see what he could do (and sometime before arriving in St. Francis he told us we'd be staying with his family).

So, he told us to meet him at his church and he'd escort us to his house. We missed a turn going there (I think the stop sign had no street name on it) and had to stop a police officer to get directions. Coincidently (or not), the policeman was an attendee of Jeff's church! He took us straight there. Jeff welcomed us warmly and we left for his house a few blocks away.

Outside of Jeff's house, his wife Becca and children (and neighbor's children) were waiting. Becca was wearing a Michigan (University of Michigan) t-shirt and I knew already we'd have something in common. We met the kids (and found out they had colds!) and brought our things inside. I got a tour of the house from Jeff and his son (a 4-year old boy) and I learned that they are trying to complete paperwork and prepare for becoming foster parents. We talked and caught up and I told him about the cities Tom and I had been in so far.

For dinner we had burgers and baked potatos (Becca was thinking "complex carbs and protein," she was nursing student in college) and baked beans (I couldn't have those 'cause I'm allergic :( ). She and Jeff have been married nearly six years (I believe) and got engaged about five weeks after meeting each other! They were our youngest hosts yet. They were fantastic. Becca didn't find out until 2pm that day that we were staying at thier house and understandably had some concern about two males staying in her house with her children, but Jeff reassured her that he had checked us out. I felt at home there and we were well-provided for.

Jeff was hoping to be in an assistant pastorial position in Dallas, where he's from, but ended up in St. Francis after widening his job search (and looking for full-time pastorial positions) and listening to God's plans for him (and that meant that he had to leave his and Becca's family in Dallas). It is a great story of how listening to God can be rewarding, but challenging. In St. Francis, they noted that the farmers in the area are social Christians. They are Christians because things have always been that way with their families. There is a lack of a personal relationship with Christ (and that is what I experienced before January of this year before God gave me this mission). So, Jeff and Becca regularly pray for a revival in St. Francis. I can sympathize with that.

The other thing that stands out in my memory from conversation is that people there are just so busy with all their activities that they have no time to spend quality time with one another in community (outside of family); just being with one another. Jeff believes that people are too busy to be very intentional to spend time with people outside of structured, regular (e.g. weekly) activities, and Becca said that people will continue to fill up their schedules with those activities because you are judged in St. Francis according to those activities you participate in. I think it's worthwhile to slow down and be intentional about spending time with others :).

We had a time of prayer before bed. I was thoroughly exhausted, but remained conscious in light of the importance of this time with them. I will continue to pray for their family (in general and for their foster care process) and their town. I appreciate the love they showed us and their concern for our well-being. Though we were strangers, we knew one another via our relationship with Christ.

Jeff and Becca took great care of me and Tom. They woke up early to cook breakfast (eggs, biscuits, bananas) and Becca gave me medicine for my sore throat (which I think just came because of all my exertion and lack of sleep). They have a beautiful family and beautiful hearts.

We rode to St. Francis on Thursday, May 21, 2009.

Cope, Colorado

2009-05-20T20:14:00.005-06:00

Wednesday morning, we left our room at the motel at about 6 am and dropped our keys in the box at the motel office. The weather was nice and cool and there was hardly any wind. I loved the wildlife I saw on the way: a herd of bison (we scared them away and it was cool to see them all running together), some turkeys, a turtle (by the racetrack), a lizard, and hawks. We had a lot of hills. I achieved my high speed of (I think) 38 miles per hour going down one, but I'm not sure it was worth it for all the work we had to do going back up. Nah, it was worth it ;).

We ate lunch at the Lois and Ray McBeth Memorial in Lindon, where there was shade and a picnic table. Tom took a nap and I was busy texting...

The hills ended after Anton and the wind started. We made sure to stock up on plenty of drinks and take lots of breaks (I learned I needed to take it easier after the sickness the heat caused me the day before). All in all, we rode 79 miles and I had energy until just a couple miles outside of Cope. We slowed down at the end, but still arrived by about 3:20pm.

We bought some ice cream and other snacks after we settled down in the park. We waited there until we noticed the pastor of the Assembly of God church had returned from his trip to Denver (the church was right across from the park). I called him with the intent of asking him if we could set up our tent in the church's yard. We hadn't expected a place to stay that night based on our phone conversations with him. However, after I got off the phone with him and met him in his yard, he offered us a place to sleep. He cleaned off one bed and showed us to another and let us bring in all our gear.

His name is Dean and he was a gracious host. He's had some health issues over the years (cancer, then negative effects from the radiation) and he lost his wife about 6 years ago. She had been the first diabetic heart transplant in the nation. He shared about his wife and gave us a brochure of her story (which she had written). I still need to finish reading, but it is a great testimony so far.

Dean recognizes the blessings in his life and still glorifies God despite pain (both physical and emotional). Dean called himself a student of the word. He loves God and loves people. Yesterday would have been his wife's birthday and he was glad we could be there with him. I'm also glad we could be there with him. He was caring, loving, and all around wonderful. He talked with us about Cope (with population 40 and where the round trip to buy gas is 40 miles), the farmers around (how they are so busy, that they harvest corn in November), how he got into ministry (he has been a pastor nearly 50 years!), his daily life (having a task list and checking things off, planting all kinds of plants and trees in his yard) and more. He was a complete blessing to us. He fed us what he had available without any reservations and he spoke with a passion for the Lord and a love for his neighbors. He even referred us to pastors that he knew along our route!

A couple things that he said that struck me were (paraphrased): "witnessing is tricky business: you can do it silently through your lifestyle, verbally by speaking the word of God, and the most powerful is by your actions. People will judge you by how your deeds match up with your words." He also said that "you just gotta keep trying everyday. You get up and you do everything to glorify God, you read the Word, and you pray and if you can't do that you gotta commit and follow Jesus the best you can." Lastly, he said "Denominations don't matter. In heaven, God removes all those tags."

Cope was a nice town. We had friendly interactions with everyone we met. God is good. Thank God for Dean and may God bless him, his family, and Cope.

We rode to Cope, Colorado on Wednesday, May 20, 2009.

Byers, Colorado

2009-05-20T19:53:00.003-06:00

Tom and I were both sleep deprived yesterday because we had to stay up late making final preparations (until 1am). We were supposed to meet on the Colorado School of Mines campus at 6am, but we had a thirty minute delay before leaving (I had to eat something before leaving and make sure everything was packed tight). A couple of friends had hoped to send us off by riding a few miles with us, but circumstances (coincidence or destiny or God) dictated that Tom and I would start this trip alone.

We weren't out of Golden before one of my water bottles popped out of its holder and fell to the ground, where it stopped as I coasted another thirty feet. I didn't think that was a good sign (the water bottle was a damaged, but still functioning) and I really didn't want to have to get off the bike already. Nonetheless, I retrieved the bottle and we were on our way.

A passerby asked me where I was going as I was stopped at the light at 13th and Ford St. in Golden and I got to share about my trip for the duration of the light. Then Tom and I were really off to the races. Traffic was never a problem. We stopped at a park early on so I could take off my underarmor (and we shared our adventure with three people there), we cruised down 27th street until we hit downtown Denver and took a snack break, rode through the city, took another break at the City Park (and took some pictures!), saw the contrast between upper class standard of living and lower class on Montview Blvd., and warily merged onto Colfax, which led us out of Denver. From Colfax, we rode frontage roads along the interstate and made our way onto highway 36. Before we knew it, Denver was just a tiny city in the distance (sorry, no pictures of that :( ).

Once I was out of the city, I figured it would be easier to pray. I had less traffic and street signs to pay attention to. The land was dry from the outer skirts of Denver to Byers. There may have been some areas of green, but I recall a lot of yellow and brown colors too. The morning had been cool and comfortable, but once we finally hit the stretch of highway the temperature rose and we took less breaks (in the city, traffic lights mandated that we stop every so often). I was thoroughly enjoying the scenery (the grasses and trees, the houses and people busy working in their yards, and the sky) along the way. In prayer, I thanked God for His marvelous creation.

At Bennett, Colorado was when I started to get into trouble. We rode something like 13 miles in 50 minutes to get to Bennett and I needed a break. We stopped a bank to refill water and get off the "saddle" (the bike seat). We didn't rest enough. I believe that is the reason I felt so terrible when we finally did make it to Byers. The riding wasn't too bad on my legs or my lungs, but I was so hot I felt sick. Trying to focus on anything but discomfort is difficult. Still, I managed to pray (even if it wasn't as much as I'd hoped) for the Catholic church in Byers (Our Lady of the Plains), the generous man who helped us there (I will refer to him as MonSr), and the "kids" (there were 12 in all) who were going to have Confirmation that night.

We arrived in Byers before 2:30 and my bicycle computer's odometer read 65 miles. We found Our Lady of the Plains and the Parish office across the street. We parked our bikes and waited until 4pm for MonSr to arrive. It was a long, hot wait, but as I slowly cooled down (I felt sick from the heat until we reached the motel at about 5pm) I made some telephone calls to arrange plans for the following days. At that time I learned that the Lord will be blessing us and providing for us through First Christian Church in St. Francis, Kansas on Thursday.

MonSr arrived at 4:10pm and quickly invited us in the Parish office. He sat us down, gave us money to stay in the motel down the road and for food, served us Sprite (it might have been the best I've ever had), and spoke with us about Byers and the Confirmation that night. He asked us about ourselves and we shared about our lives. Unfortunately, there wasn't much time to just chat because of preparations for the Confirmation. However, before we left for the motel Tom and I learned that MonSr's father went to Mines! That is excellent! In the 1920's about all they offered there was mining and maybe petroleum engineering.

One thing that really struck me while I was talking with MonSr (over the phone and in person) is how excited he was that Tom and I are on this mission. Over the phone, he expressed that he believes this spiritual journey is a wonderful thing to be doing and asked us to pray for him, his church, and the "kids" going through Confirmation. I was struck by his enthusiasm and support. I hadn't really witnessed this from anyone else I talked over the phone with (to ask for a place to stay and food to eat). That said, I was a little shocked! I don't think I should be surprised at all that God will put incredible people and places in our path on this journey. Part of me now also believes that I don't truly understand the implications of my mission. If MonSr had such support and enthusiasm for this mission and for us and that shocked me, I need to come to the realization that I don't entirely understand how important this act of faith (and coming on this trip in obedience to God) will be and already is. I pray and know that God will teach me more about why I am on this trip. That is, I do know some of the reasons why (see our mission statement), but I trust more will be revealed about what I am to learn and experience.

There was a thunderstorm and there was rain. I was afraid I would miss the Confirmation. Fortunately, the rain stopped and I had plenty of time to go to the church. The sanctuary was simple, but dignified. The people in attendance were excited for the Confirmation event and reverent as I have seen once before in Mass. This was only my second time at Mass and I'm very glad I was able to attend this special occasion. The ceremony was beautiful. I admit that I was tired and nearly nodded off once or twice, but I was conscious for the most part. I was wide awake during the Confirmation. I prayed for the kids as they proclaimed their commitment to their faith that they would live their lives for the Lord and follow Him, just as they said they would.

At the end of Mass, I had the honor of meeting the Archbishop from Denver (MonSr introduced us). It was a pleasant conversation and I learned that we have several connections (he knows my RA from my Junior year in the dorms and another good friend). MonSr described my journey this summer and the Archbishop offered me some money. I declined saying that we should be provided for on the way. However, I decided later that night that I would graciously accept any support (financial or otherwise) for this trip. It is true that God will provide for us the entire time and that I do not want to burden anyone, but that does not mean I should turn down financial support on the way. First, because financial support is a demonstration of God's provision, whether I think I have enough now or not. Second, because a donor wants to love us and help us in any way they can and the truth is I can use all the help I can get (who knows what is to come!), whether it is prayer or food or a gift of money.

The last thing to say is that I need to be real and open with anyone; unafraid of judgement based on my beliefs. Being open may well lead to judgement, but honesty is the best policy. I did not lie to anyone, but God revealed this truth to me as I was attempting to not breach the fact I am Protestant (I was afraid of being in the Catholic church and not being Catholic) despite that it was probably obvious I am not Catholic. Still, everyone was pleasant to me and I witnessed only love amongst everyone I interacted with. The first day of my trip was an amazing display of God's care for me and a testament to the faith and servant's heart of MonSr, which were a great example to me.

We rode to Byers, Colorado on Tuesday, May 19, 2009.

January 22, 2009

2009-05-18T23:46:00.006-06:00

My first journal entry ever is below. Upon re-reading it, I've found that I was a lot more confused than I remember. God made my mission more clear every day and what you will read is a mixture of confusion and clarity. My walk with God started again in January after a long hiatus and He guided me from that confused state to where I am now: at a greater peace in understanding, but aware that I have so much further to go.

PS - I apologize for spelling and grammatical errors, there's no time for proofreading and I hastily typed this.

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Where to begin?

Have you ever heard God before? At this moment, I feel more secure and sure that I have than before (in the last few days). I’m still afraid, but much less so. I feared that if I told people they would condemn me as crazy or criticize what I believe God has told me to do. At first I thought I was crazy and tried to dismiss the ideas as off-the-wall and impossible. God spoke to me twice since last Thursday and today (a week later) I’m so close to committing to the faith I have longed to prove for some time now.

I don’t know where it is best to start. Maybe last semester. I had not been more stagnant in my faith for a long time. Something was not right. Things were changing around me and inside me and I know now I didn’t handle that very well. I was desensitized. Feeling nothing. No closeness to God, no fulfillment in what I was doing. It was my first semester as a graduate (Masters) student at Colorado School of Mines. I completed my undergrad in math there in May and felt obligated to continue studying. I had not applied for jobs or other school programs, my current program paid for three semesters of tuition already, and I was content to be comfortable at Mines. Things were not the same as they used to be, I found out. Something felt wrong. Friends had moved on, I was still lost and confused about my future.

I was committed most to school, then ballroom dance, then to Blue Key National Honor Society, then InterVarsity (and thus correspondingly to God – for me anyways). Ballroom dance was no longer gratifying. I was not happy to be there in part because I always had school in the back of (sometimes even the front of) my mind. I also had no partner, which never bothered me before, but I felt profoundly that dancing didn’t matter without a more permanent partner. My involvement in the other organizations was limited because of lack of interest, time, and most importantly a despair. I think now that I was sad (or perhaps depressed) about my spot in life (nothing I was doing seemed to make a difference). This is probably because I felt no clear sense of purpose and I was not relying on God to calm my fears about my future.

I was searching, but not finding or maybe I was hiding (I was just so oblivious to the truth). I occupied my time with volleyball (playing and watching), which I love, but left me empty. School did not fulfill me. No new ideas about my passion or future. Ballroom (dance) left me no happier. The best thing about last semester was spending time with my roommates. They were and are a blessing to be around. They brightened my day and my life.

In any case, my last semester culminated in quite a crazy experience in Downtown Denver, which ended up with huge fees and a night in the hospital. I’ll tell you about that later. It was an experience to learn from and one that I wish I never had (that is, never had to have… I don’t regret everything. I learned from it). It’s somewhat funny in hindsight, though. My lack of caution that night was no doubt partially due to my desensitized state. Down deep I was still mature and responsible, but I was so unaware of where I was in life. It was a rude awakening of sorts, but aside from learning to be more careful while drinking and discovering that I had become desensitized, no fundamental changes occurred in me.

Christmas break was a break from school, but not from the uncertainty I had about life. I buried myself in reading and in time spent with friends so I wouldn’t have to face reality. I’m not sure there was much I could have done anyway to determine my future. I could research jobs, etc. all I wanted, but I have doubts at this moment that I would have found something with meaning. Something from God.

So, it is with great relief that God did speak to me. And it becomes more perfect and real to me the more I think and share about it.

The first time He spoke I heard, but didn’t either know it was Him or, well I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was some random idea I guess. After the second time I knew it was God instantly (despite trying to deny it later). And it wasn’t until a day or so later (after Sunday, the second time He spoke to me) that I realized God spoke to me at Cru (Campus Crusade for Christ) as well. So, at the Cru meeting last Thursday God told (or maybe just suggested ;) ) that I do something.

I wasn’t particularly engaged in the evening (that is, the speakers, the message, and later the music). However, the speaker, a former Mines student (Tim Gabrielson) caught my attention when he mentioned C.S. Lewis, someone I have looked up to and been amazed by for some time now. His ability to influence others and the impact he had on Christians, Christianity, people, Britain, and the world is positively inspiring (from what I know about him). If I want to be anything when I grow up it is C.S. Lewis (or maybe a bit of Will Rogers too). It was around this time that God told me to reapply for the Rhodes Scholarship. Actually, just saying that does the experience no justice. It was like “bam!” apply for the Rhodes Scholarship to study literature or theology. I had given up on that though because I knew not what to apply for, nor had I done anything they may have deemed “special.”

He told me to reapply for the scholarship to study something that would move me in a path (or to situate me in a position, e.g. training, qualifications, experiences) to influence people in a similar manner as C.S. Lewis. That is, maybe literature or theology. I don’t know what Oxford offers in those areas. Now, recall that my studies are in mathematics! My Masters is for International Political Economy, but that doesn’t qualify me to apply for study in literature or theology much more than math! I thought, “that would be fantastic, but I’m hardly qualified.” (by hardly qualified, I mean not at all! I have no experience! Hence, I rejected the “thought” as preposterous and crazy. It somehow did bring some degree of a happy attitude for me for the rest of the meeting, though.

I watched Phantom of the Opera, spent time with friends, and went home to bed (I can tell you about the Phantom later). The next morning I had to go to the airport (DIA) by 10:00 am to welcome and instruct Blue Key National Honor Society members to Colorado for a national conference we were hosting at school in Golden, Colorado. I went with Josh, a good friend of mine. He made me carry the four blue balloons because he was embarrassed. Fortunately for me, I lost those inhibitions a while ago.

What I mostly want to tell you about this conference is that I was in awe of the people. Here they were, coming to my home state and I was the one feeling welcomed! That is, they were welcoming me into their lives and into relationships with them! I was inspired by their immediate friendliness and happiness. I love meeting new people, but especially ones like these! The whole weekend I grew closer to them, and shucks, I really like them. God made loving people all over – all across the US!

Anyway, the people part of the conference by far outweighed the lectures on leadership. Well, there is one thing I feel I should share in those regards. The first speaker of the day (VP of Western region for an oil and gas company) asked us to write our passions on a sheet of paper. This was supposed to coincide with our skills and talents too. What I wrote was a truth that I’m not sure I’ve ever let myself really believe. It was no part math, no part IPE. I wrote that I’m passionate about loving and relating to others. Well, that is dandy since I have all this education and continue to pursue them and related fields of work. I’ve been telling people for a while that I want to make a difference, change the world, be a philanthropist, or do something to help people (humanitarian). I looked at Peace Corps, thought about possible causes for NGOs and non-profits and foundations. Nothing struck me as “right.” God wasn’t speaking to me in this realm until He told me the seemingly unrelated random instruction to pursue a study more like literature or theology.

The conference blew by. On Sunday morning I bid my new friends “good-bye” from their hotel. I was happy. I would miss them. I drove home, packed up, and then headed to my parents’ house (also home). On the way, I listened to K-Love, worshipped, the sun was shining in beautiful Colorado, and Sherri Rivers said “good morning, ya’ll.” My heart burst with happiness. I thought I love you Sherri Rivers and your beautiful voice. I was so happy God created her to welcome strangers across the US and give her capacity to love thousands of people she does not know. She’s my beautiful sister in Christ. I wonder how she loves so many. Anyways… I felt a happiness I had not felt for some time. A happiness and contentedness I was familiar with and had been missing. I wanted it to stay forever. It was like some kind of drug (but so much more powerful) soothing me. The happiness was not as strong by the time I got home, but it was not gone.

My family and I went to church, where, once again I was not particularly engaged in the talk. Worship was pretty great. I don’t recall exactly where God spoke to me, but I think I left briefly to use the restroom (TMI, sorry!), the talk ended, and worship began. Suddenly, out of thin air God told me to ride a bicycle (I would say bike, but not to be confused with motorcycle) across the U.S. What!? Where did tha idea come from? Why? I started to think that would be cool. What would I do? Well, visit some specific communities on a "charted" path meanwhile spending time with God, exploring myself, my feelings and emotions, my faith, delving into scripture, being with God as I ride (not to mention with the people in the communities), learning, and experiencing (culture, different lives, the US). Maybe, no, definitely I would be documenting this "spirit journey" (my dad's words) along the way. Maybe with poetry, song, journal film? Or perhaps with more than any one expression of thoughts, feelings, learnings, experiences.

I would be able to meet, love, build relationships with people, while traveling, learning (I should have included that as a passion), not to mention biking would be great exercise. And yet, this was a little crazy and no one would believe it was from God so I needed to add something else to make other people believe it was a good idea. I know! I can serve these communities. Surely each community has a church that would need some help in some way. Not to mention that logistically I know that churches would have members that could help with the trip by putting me up for a night and feeding me. But, I could not go alone. I realized that suddenly and said (as if to God) "I cannot do this alone." Immediately, Nathan H. the name and face popped into my head. He was my roommate Freshman and Sophmore years and a best friend. I was so excited that for moments straight I could think of nothing but logistics, others who may have done this (e.g. Mark Shultz), and that I would call Nathan right after church to ask him "Nathan, what are you doing this summer?" But my excitement failed me.... or waned or wore out or whatever you want to say. This was an impossible idea that I could convince no one of, that would not serve me in my future, and was simply crazy. I'm not sure I believed it was God. But it was too random to be my own. I couldn't get it off my mind. Was it a crazy thought or God? What if it was me? God? No, I never believed it was me, so it had to be... not me. I was too afraid to think it was God and thus too afraid to share. I continued to think logistics, getting excited about the plausibility.

That night I had to share with someone. Camo (a roommate) was at home. I tried him. But not in a straightforward manner at all. I took some curves instead in the form of hypothetical, rhetorical questions. Maybe I wanted to be sure it was God before sharing or I was afraid of criticism and rejection. Why should I have been? Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. This is the clearest and most radical way (or maybe it just sticks out because it is the most radical thought I've ever had) God has spoken to me and instructed me to do something.

I got no clear reaction from Camo. Probably because he had no idea what I was talking about. Shucks. The excitement mixed with skepticism boiled up in me, but I felt no reinforcement after talking with Camo. I tried awfully hard to legitimze a trip by emphasizing services for churches. I may have sounded like a businessman pitching some crazy product desparately to someone who by a poor chance of fate was cornered to have to listen. My own thoughts and feelings were disjoined, unsure, confused. I had enough faith to bring it up, but enough foolishnes to try and add my own plan to God's instructions. In the end, I gave up because I had no idea what I was talking about and I had added too many of my thoughts of how to make it worthwhile and noble. I thought exploring myself was not enough. That growing in relationship with Christ was not enough. I've realized by now that it is enough. Service and giving something back to the communities will happen. God told me this and I payed much less attention a nd placed much less importance on this "unplanned" service than something more intentional. Not all the good we do is purposeful. God has gifted us all to be blessings in the lives of others unbeknownst to ourselves.

My excitement about this insane idea was like a rollercoaster. Around noon on Monday I spoke with a fellow graduate student in my program. Still skeptical, I thought Elizabeth would be a more welcoming audience, but still look at the situation objectively. I started by saying "Elizabeth, it looks like I may travel the US before the world" because she was encouraging a "world ticket" kind of trip for me. As I started to describe it all to her, I added an argument about American Exceptionalism. The night before, as I was exploring my thoughts about why God would have presented this to me now, I told Camo about the "good" American people I met that weekend from across the country. How fascinating would it be to see if this goodness is everywhere in the US? Is it just in Christians or in all Americans? Is the same Exceptionalism from de Tocqueville's "Democracy in America" as true today as it was in the 1830's? Maybe I could research this on the way. Elizabeth like the sound of the whole idea. I was still cautious presenting my idea to her trying to remember God's reasons for me going while adding my personal touch - the pieces like service and now American Exceptionalism - to hopefully legitimize this. She was supportive, strengthening my resolve and belief that maybe this wasn't all crazy. Maybe this was possible - a bike trip ordained by God.

So after our meeting I decided to add American Exceptionalism to future chats about this experience. After every conversation, I was becoming more certain that this was from God. Unfortunately, I was still adding my tidbits to try to strengthen my argument - the goodness this would bring to the communities I would visit; this wasn't all about me, I'd be helping them. In reality, God knows me, knows my heart and has a purpose for me. I should not have been afraid to tell people exactly what he told me instead of adding pieces to try to gain approval.

Next, I talked with Kory (another roommate). It was Tuesday evening (after the inauguration of Obama) and I wasn't being very productive. I asked him if he'd still go bike shopping with me. We were supposed to go shopping so t hat my Dad could buy me one for my birthday in September... and then combine it with a Christmas present. Well, needless to say, I still have no bike. I informed Kory that the bike had to be able to traverse the country after he told me he'd definitely go shopping with me. He assumed I'd meant like "back country" so I ellaborated. "What?! How much money can you put down, what's your budget?" I told him I would "put down" whatever was necessary to get me an appropriate bike. "Like $2,000," I said to make a guesstimate. Then we got into the "why."

I tried recounting everything for Kory, but I didn't get through explaining everything before he asked "would you do this alone?" Well, no. But... was he excited about it too? Maybe God had someone right in my house who should go with me. I tried to think about whether I would allow or disallow someone from coming and for what reasons. I haven't asked him yet and I don't know how he'll respond.

By the time we were finishing our conversation, Camo and Nathan T. walked in and heard the gist of it all. Camo got a better, clearer version this time. After Nathan and Kory left, I chatted with Camo (more like challenged him to tell me what he thought) to get his opinion now that he knew the whole shebang. Camo asked me some heavy questions, mostly in regard to my part of the plan with service. He didn't believe that I could make an impact in a community to validate a cross-country trip to serve them. You see, I was emphasizing service and exceptionalism again. Those, well service was not a given instruction for this trip. Exceptionalism in some way was given by God, but probably not how I first envisioned it. That is to be determined and cannot necessarily be planned for. When I got to what God told me, what He really told me, Camo believed the trip would be worth it for that. Camo said the funny thing was that he'd had the same thought. Well, he was hitch-hiking, but more or less the same. He "likes bikes, travel and believe it or not... meeting people too." He said he was sort of sorry he didn't think of biking. The truth was, he was getting excited listening to me talk about it.

In Camo's eyes, if the trip was about growing close to God then it was legitimized in his book.

I am somewhat ashamed now that I sought the approval of so many people before I really, truly believe this was God. I suppose it is a good idea to talk with those wiser than you when you are confused. Before Tuesday evening I thought it was Him, but was afraid and skeptical. Afraid because I wanted people tobelieve me and I was fearful they wouldn't. I was skeptical because it has always been my nature to question encounters with God (and the correspondingly amazing stories). Though I have always believed in Him, upon meeting His first challenge (... well this isn't His first challenge) I was afraid and slightly disbelieving. Now I can say unwaveringly that it was God who told me t o ride a bike across the US, visiting communities, being with Him, learning from friends I'll make, growing in relationship with God with whoever joins me. I will document my experience and I hope I will have something worthwhile to share at the end.

Our Mission Statement

2009-05-17T09:38:00.000-06:00

Tom Begley and I are bicycling from Denver to the East Coast and back. Below is our mission statement and a brief explanation of the statement.

Mission Statement:
1) to intensively pursue God through prayer, delving into scripture, and living, breathing, and pedaling all for Him,

2) to experience and share God's love by serving, learning, and fellowshipping from community-to-community as we bicycle from Denver to the East Coast and back,

3) to share our experiences of how God entered into and is impacting our lives.

How?

1) Intensively seeking God in prayer:
-Being aware of God’s presence and how He works each day. That He gave us life and made the beauty surrounding us. By having a spirit of gratefulness, embracing His comfort during our challenges and relying on God to provide for our needs. That this mission is an act of faith. By petitioning Him to be present and moving in the lives of family, friends, and the communities we visit

Delving into scripture:
-To read passages from the Bible each day in community, exploring the depths of God’s wisdom, seeking His truth, and challenging one another to reflect what we learn in our lives.

Living, breathing, and pedaling all for Him:
-Purposefully acknowledging that all we do is for His glory. Trying to go forth with an awareness of our mission. That we do not seek glory or praise for this mission because everything is for Him and because of Him.

We are leaving our routine lives (the comfort of our homes, the daily grind of school and work, well-established lifestyles) and putting ourselves in a position to rely on God.

2) Serving, learning, and fellowshipping from community-to-community

Serving:
-We do not want to be a burden on the communities we stay in, but want to return the love we receive by assisting our host in any way we can

Learning:
-Ask our hosts about their lives, including what God has done and is doing for them and their community

Fellowshipping:
-Being with our hosts and community at meals and inviting them to join us in prayer and studying God’s word

3) to share our experience of how God entered into and is impacting our lives
-To tell our stories and testimonies to our host and their community. We will share with those who want to hear, which may include the youth group or church congregation

Glorify God

2009-05-11T10:13:00.001-06:00

School posed a distraction from God. I did not know how to be with Him while I was so entrenched in my work. I started to learn how to be in His presence even while I was not reading the Bible or praying. For me, that lay in doing everything for His glory. I want to give to Him every breath, every step, and every thought. I have much to learn and never will be perfect, but He deserves all I can give because He gave me all I have. There is no greater love than than to willingly give your life for another.

Now that school is over (until August), perhaps it will be easier to do everything for Him. In fact, the purpose of my trip is solely to be with Him. It may have been difficult to do schoolwork for God's glory because I did not start my classes with the intent of glorifying and honoring Him. That said, I pray my motivation for every action is to glorify Him and my journey with Him will continue unabated even when I am faced with challenges. God melted my heart in January and started to form it to His will. May I pursue God with all my heart, my soul, and my mind this summer and be molded by His wisdom, peace, and love all life long.

Bear Trap Ranch

2009-05-11T09:24:00.000-06:00

I am going to a week-long InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF) retreat called "Chapter Camp" at Bear Trap Ranch in Colorado Springs, Colorado. This is an annual retreat for various Western Region "Chapters" (the IVCF group at each school is called a Chapter) to interact with one another, grow closer to God, and prepare for ministry at their school for the following school year.

My primary motivations for attending are to build new relationships (and reconnect with old friends), learn what I can from those God will place before me, spend time in prayer and reading scripture, and continue preparation for my trip this summer (spiritually and otherwise). I believe we can find God anywhere (because He is everywhere!) if we seek Him.