Motorcycles--a Way to Connect

You don't have to own a motorcycle to relate to someone who does. You just have to have a nephew who has one, and who dropped in to spend a day in the middle of his trip from Virginia all the way to the Pacific Ocean and back! 

 

In the photo above, Danny is showing Henry our one-of-a-kind coffee bars complete with an epoxy river full of empty shells and coffee beans. 

But back to motorcycles.  

This week when Crystal took me to Rapid City for my appointment to get my stitches out, we saw one motorcycle after another, because the ten-day Sturgis Bike Rally is underway. I read there were about 450,000 bikes there. I've been to Sturgis and I just can't imagine. 

A year or two ago Jonathan joined a team that was passing out gospel literature to the bikers.

In the photo above there was a fancy rig beside us at Walmart, from out of state.  

On our way to church Sunday before last, we had picked up a family, and I was telling them about my nephew arriving on his motorcycle, and how he'd traveled thousands of miles all the way to the Pacific Ocean and back, having to wait out storms, travel at night to beat the awful heat (above 100 degrees some of the time), and figure out his meals.

 

The lady said her father used to motorcycle all the way from Connecticut out here to South Dakota when he was dating her mom. This lady's parents met in the army, and it was worth it to her dad to brave the elements and motor out here for her!

(I'm getting a whiff of a story right there!) 

 

No, one doesn't have to own a motorcycle to connect with people, but it does take thinking of something to say.  And sometimes, if the subject is motorcycles, it can open up a fascinating story!

The Lady and the Dog I Did Not Like

I saw her stumbling along at the side of the road trying to carry four grocery bags from Turtle Creek Crossing grocery store as I started home from missionary prayer meeting in Mission Monday evening. The store was a mile out of town, and this middle-aged looking Rosebud lady had a ways to go regardless where she lived--especially with four heavy bags.

I am not in the habit of picking people up around here unless something stands out to me and I believe it safe to do, but this one hit me right between the eyes. I did some mental calculating--how much room in the Honda (plenty), how many people riding with me already (zero), and how far I might have to take her (likely not far if she was already walking). I turned around at the store parking lot entrance and drove back, coming up across from her just as she stopped hobbling to rest a bit. That is when I really noticed that she was not alone. She had a dog with her! 

As I pulled over on the shoulder on my side of the road, the woman instantly noticed, gathered energy, and hastened to cross the road toward me, dog following her, I was sure.
DOG. 

Oh, no! I would have to let the dog into the car, too--with all its possible fleas, lice, mange, scabies, parasites--I mean, who knows what even the best and most beloved of dogs have when they are trotting down the road?

The button on my side of the car operated the passenger window, and down it slid. 

"Do you need a ride?" I called.

"Are you letting me ride?" she asked in disbelief.

"Where do you need to go?" I asked. 

"Just down there to the first road to the right," she said. 

I invited her to pile her bags into the car, which she did, seating herself then, saying  "I need to have surgery on my feet."

No wonder she had been hobbling.

And then I said something about the dog, I can't remember what.

The lady patted her lap and got the dog to jump in on her lap. 

"Do you like dogs?" she asked, brightly, hopefully. Apparently what I said had given her that impression.

Oh, no! Now what could I say? 

"Of course!" would be easy to say, but not honest. 

"It's okay," I said, hastily changing the subject as the dog turned itself around and settled on its owner's lap, careful not be facing the stranger in the driver seat. "Tell me where to go!"

"Straight down there to the first road to the right," she said. "My mom lives there and I'm taking care of her. I have a truck, and my brother is coming in this week. I hope he can fix my truck."

As we pulled into the place where she directed, I invited her to church, carefully telling her how to get there, just on the other side of Mission, and the street name. She seemed to picture where I was telling her. I told her service was at 6:00 in the evening and supper was served afterward.

And then we said goodbye, and I wished her a good evening. Seeing that the dog was safely out of the way, I backed up and started home. 

I thought about how after the main prayer time, I had been feeling rather low physically (wondering if I should have tried to drive myself to missionary prayer meeting so soon after surgery) and suddenly there had been this sense that I was not to try to manage to stay any longer, but get myself home to rest.

Normally, I don't just up and skip out before the end of a meeting or service, but something was telling me to go, and I went.

Was it not so much about my own health and strength, but about a lady with a dog, four heavy grocery bags, hurting feet, and a hungry heart by the side of the road?

I don't know. 

I ended up having to stop for gas and then stop to pick up a cooler we'd left on a porch in White River with milk in it for someone.

But I hope to follow up sometime with the lady--and I'll know not to be afraid of her dog--the one that curled up inside my car on its owner's lap--imaginary fleas and all.

Berries--and Beauty--to Enjoy During a Very Long Journey

"Don't worry, Mom!" one of the children messaged me Sunday afternoon a couple hours after they had left our cabin in Rapid City after church. "We're bringing you some berries, too!"

Walking on Roughlock Falls Trail, they had discovered a bunch of tiny wild strawberries, bright red raspberries, and even a few huckleberries! 

 

And they were bringing some back for me--me who had to stay back at the cabin still recuperating after surgery, and reading, but rejoicing that they had such a fun walk that afternoon, complete with joyous berry picking. 

 

It's been a long cancer journey, but there have been so many beautiful things to bless us along the way, like berries and beauty, and like a sunshine box that was sent to the Woodards for me from a sister. In it were several articles of classy clothing, a new purse (how did she know I needed a new and larger purse?) and a book called Teddy and Booker T,  about Booker T. Washington and Theodore Roosevelt, who together fought for racial equality.

 

  Today it's two and a half weeks post surgery, and I am still stitched together, with two or three doctor appointments under my belt since the surgery.  

 

Every doctor appointment, whether to take off the wound vac or take out stitches or have a fresh blood lab drawn or just have a checkup pretty much takes up most of a day--or a weekend, if we stay in Rapid City over the weekend. It's like being in a foreign country up here in rural South Dakota by the reservations. 

But we just try to make the best of it, and I so enjoy the beautiful scenery this year as we pass fields of hay and cattle on our 2 1/2 hour journey once or twice a week to Rapid City.

 

This was one of my favorite scenes near the Badlands. Whether Berries or Badlands, we are blessed with beauty along the way!

"I Was Glad...to Go to the House of the Lord"

 Sunday these lusciously pink gladioli went with Hannah and me to decorate the front of the sanctuary at St. Francis Holiness Chapel where the girls had helped with VBS last week. When it was my turn to go up and tell the children's story, I first had Hannah tell the children the names of all the flowers, from red zinnias to Blue Monday flax.

But the glads were what I focused on, because, I said, they reminded me of the verse in Psalms that says, "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord." 

And I told the kids (and adults who happened to be there) that I discovered in my concordance that the word "glad" is in Psalms exactly 31 times--enough for every day of this new month of August! 

Just before leaving for church, I had run down to the windmill (minus the wheel which keeps getting blown off anyway in this South Dakota wind) near the deck steps to take a couple pictures of the morning glories freshly blooming that morning. 

 

Jonathan's mom used to grow morning glories around the squeaky windmill in their back yard, and I just LOVE morning glories. Well, didn't Hannah plant morning glories here by our windmill, too!

I just love them, the way they climb up it and bloom fresh each morning.

Accidentally I touched the selfie mode and decided to go ahead and snap this photo, too, while admiring the morning glories.  

So between the glads and the glories, it was a glad and glorious Sunday morning--complete with helping out again at church, sharing a true story from Ukraine, and sharing garden produce with friends. 

Sunday evening was just as glad--picking up folk from the shelter for church, and making two trips to take attendees back home, some to the shelter and some to Sunrise Apartments-- the "ghetto of Mission."

After lurching over countless potholes and speed bumps in that awful section of town, we took a moment to pray for that spot--the worst place in town--and for God to work His own glad and glorious transformation in hearts and lives.  

Bearded Buffalo

 

A week ago when Jonathan and I were taking a ride in between picking up a trencher for the business in Belle Fourche, SD, and waiting through the weekend for my Monday medical appointment in Rapid City, we passed by this "Bearded Buffalo."

Well, of course, I wanted to by all means stop and park where we could get a good picture of it, because it reminded me of my bearded husband--only I think my bearded hubby is much better looking--unless I have botched his haircut, which I did last week so that he looks humiliatingly balder--thanks to me!

Bald or not, he keeps working every day at what we came to do. One project Building Hope Enterprise is doing is this new house (above) near Winner. Another is replacing a door at a police station in Mission, and still another is replacing a door at the church fellowship hall at St. Francis.  

 

(That was being done Wednesday while VBS children gathered in, and you can read about that in another post.)

Yet another project was repairing a wrecked wall of a Dollar General store where some vehicle ran into it down in Valentine, SD.

Jonathan had to figure out a way to keep the rest of the wall and building from falling down while they laid new block where the wrecked wall was.

 

Now the job was done except for painting, but getting the right shade of paint mixed at the hardware store was a story and trial in itself.

 

 Jonathan did such a good job with getting it to match, (sorry he took this picture through the windshield which leaves a bit of greenish reflection) and his Rosebud worker David did the painting. Then Jonathan had to take pictures to prove the work got done, come up with an invoice, and submit the papers to the store manager for signing so he could turn in the invoice for payment. 

These are the kinds of things my bearded buffalo does, day after day, despite how his back hurts, how his ankles ache, or how tired he is after a night of being wakened over and over with storm or cat or other things.  

 

 

"Wow! Just Wow!"

 "Wow! Just wow!" That is what Jonathan said late Monday morning as we exited the hospital after not just my medical appointment but more than one Divine appointment as well.   

Before getting to the hospital we got a call from Keith Lavery letting us know that a young man had been life-flighted to Rapid City hospital the night before, after a stabbing. Could we go visit him? We readily agreed because we would be in the very same hospital this morning.

He was on seventh floor, glad to see us when we told him we were friends with his mother. I told him that I had been just one floor below him in breast surgery recently and understood what he was going through on that bed, unable to move without pain. Jonathan explained how we'd been able to watch out the window and see the MediVAc helicopter come in different times. Yes, the boy, age only 19, had arrived in the helicopter. Our time in the hospital last week gave us ways to relate, something we could not have done before last week's surgery and pain! 

 

In those moments, we both realized that already God was using the pain and misery we had just been through (and weren't done with yet) to relate to others in similar trouble. We related to his pain, to his boredom, to being out of his comfort zone. 

Bits and pieces of his story came together. Apparently as he was on his way home after church, just as it was getting dark, he said, a gang of about ten went after him. He was stabbed (with a machete, we heard him tell someone on the phone), in the back and in his right chest, besides slashed on both legs. They left him lying in the ditch, and he thought he was going to die. Later a friend found him, got him seated on a bicycle and pushed him to his mom's abode, where he could get help. 

He showed us the stitches, all the places, grimacing at every move, explaining that the slashes were first "stapled," either by paramedics or at the local hospital, before he came here. His lungs had collapsed at one point. His face was all scratched up. Jonathan turned his phone to selfie mode so he could see what he looked like as he was asking us what his face looked like.

"It opened my eyes," he said. "I could have died."

Gravely, we agreed, and Jonathan asked if he'd like us to pray with him. He did, so Jonathan prayed, and he was very grateful. We discussed people he knew, safety, what he could do to better his life with possibly Jonathan's help in the future.

As we talked, I felt that he was feeling vulnerable and grateful to be alive, realizing that God had been merciful to Him and had a purpose for his life--after being attacked by ten guys and left possibly for dead in a ditch. Jonathan talked about God wanting him to give Him his heart.

"Would you like to give your heart to Jesus right now?" I dared to ask. And would you believe it? He nodded his head. "Would you like to pray right now?" I watched the face of a nineteen-year-old reservation boy crumple as his heart melted before us and God in Rapid City hospital, nodding once again. My mother's heart reached out and took his hand, and just like that, we prayed with him, a second time, telling Jesus that the boy wanted to give his heart to Him, asking Him to forgive his sins, and help him live for God.

      I do not know what transpired in his heart, but we know God had us there right then "for such a time as this." 

     Promptly afterward, God came into the first floor restroom of the same hospital. The God Who was born in a stable is not too high and mighty to meet people in the lowliest room of the hospital. I suddenly realized that the person on the other side of the stall wall was crying. And not just crying. Just flat out sobbing--deep, gut-wrenching sobs. I knew very well that I was not going to leave that restroom until that woman had been reached out to. So I washed my hands and waited as other women came and went. Figuring Jonathan would be okay, I waited. Finally the young woman came out, face tear-stained. I asked if she was okay, if she needed help. 

 Promptly afterward, God came into the first floor restroom of the same hospital. The God Who was born in a stable is not too high and mighty to meet people in the lowliest room of the hospital. I suddenly realized that the person on the other side of the stall wall was crying. And not just crying. Just flat out sobbing--deep, gut-wrenching sobs. I knew very well that I was not going to leave that restroom until that woman had been reached out to. So I washed my hands and waited as other women came and went. Figuring Jonathan would be okay, I waited. Finally the young woman came out, face tear-stained. I asked if she was okay, if she needed help. 

 

     "My brother died today," she explained, likely right there in the hospital I assume, to which I responded with sorrow and told her I'd be praying for her. She nodded at the ladies who were just then in the restroom and said she had family. I asked her name, gave her a couple hugs and told her again, that I'd be praying for her. I left that restroom, knowing that I had just been in another divine appointment. Three minutes either side of that gut-wrenching sobs in the restroom, and I would not have been there. I felt in my heart that the hug I gave her was not from me but from God.

VBS--Don't Let the Trap Snap!

This week our family, mostly Crystal and Hannah, have been helping with a VBS at St. Francis Holiness Chapel.

The theme has been "Stay Out of Sin's Trap!"

I had a blast helping Mrs. Patton, who was heading up the VBS, come up with ideas.

 Together, she and I asked around and collected various traps--coyote traps, bear trap, skunk trap, rat and mouse traps, fly traps,

 and even a spider web that the Hartley boys created from string while they were here a few weeks ago. 

Decor was simple but meaningful. 

I know this VBS doesn't even hold a candle to some of the spectacular ones I've seen on FB, but I'm still sharing this idea, because it can be made as fancy or as simple as necessary. 

We collected various stuffed animals that might or might not get caught in the traps.

The first night of VBS there were about 30 kids and young people, the second night there were about 36, and the third night, 45 showed up!

 

A family group from Indiana came out to provide meals and help with games, something they've enjoyed doing for years. 

Ron Patton discusses a different trap or two each evening, applying the message of how sin can trap us and how hard it is to get out, and therefore to stay out of the trap.

"Do you think the devil hangs signs saying 'Trap' near his traps?" Mr. Patton asked the children. 

No, they didn't think so. 

The whole idea of a trap is to catch someone unawares.

When I found out Mrs. Patton was needing ideas, I was able to help with ideas, esp. for songs and games or activities. I wrote words for a theme song, "Stay Away from the Trap," to the tune of "I Will Make You Fishers of Men." The kids love it. They get to clap on the words "trap" or "snap." I made a poster visual of the song using free clipart, and Becky laminated the song posters. I also visualized "When Old Mr. Satan Knocks at my Heart's Door" and she laminated that one and is using it for this theme. 

This theme could be used for a month of Sunday Schools. My sister-in-law Laurie Parks has done a month series on temptation, using the idea of a rat or mouse trap with games. The first night of VBS we had paper mice hidden inside about 10 colorful, empty food packages/boxes set up on the altar. Whoever correctly answered the question the teacher gave got to choose a box to look in to see if a mouse was there and how many points it had written on it for their team. The second night we had a spider web game that Tasbah loaned us, where the kids got to throw stringy wooden bugs and try to land it in the middle of the spider web. They got points based on how close to center the bug landed. Last night the kids who answered correctly got to drop a golf ball on one of 20 mouse traps set up, and if they sprang the trap, they got the points written underneath. One or two times the ball or trap bounced and sprang a second trap next to it, and boy, that kid won lots of points! They LOVED that. 

If you are interested, here are the words I wrote to the tune of "Fishers of Men." 

Stay far away, far away from the trap,

Away from the trap,

Away from sin's trap.

Stay far away, far away from the trap

Or the trap--will--SNAP!

Or the trap--will--SNAP!

Or the trap--will--SNAP!

Stay far away, far away from the trap,

Or the trap--will--SNAP!

Stay real close, real close to the Lord, 

Close to the Lord,

Close to the Lord,

Stay real close, real close to the Lord, 

So the trap--won't--SNAP!

So the trap--won't--SNAP!

So the trap--won't--SNAP!

Stay real close, real close to the Lord,

So the trap--won't--SNAP!

The second evening, our whole family helped act out the story of Elijah getting caught in the trap of discouragement after Jezebel threatened to kill him. I couldn't get very good photos from the back where I had managed to come along and watch, but here Elijah (aka Danny) is sleeping under the juniper or broom tree (depending which version you read), and angel Crystal, with a golden halo on her head which isn't showing up in the photo, is coming with a cake (aka zucchini muffin) and bottle of water to feed him for the long journey ahead.

The best part of the skit was when Elijah crawled into his cave (huge box) and found bats, maybe spiders, and then threw a big, long, yellow, stuffed snake out in perfect terror! As it went flying through the air, the kids and adults both had such a laugh!

Jonathan used a noisy leaf blower for the big wind, and then Crystal stuffed red and yellow tissue paper into the same leaf blower later to blow a bunch of flames into the air for the big fire that passed by Elijah before the still small voice. 

We pray for eternal fruit from these endeavors.