a surrender - 24

(Continuing "a surrender," chapter four, "the anawim")

The next few weeks were pretty interesting. Nice views as I was coming through the mountains. Many acts of kindness from strangers, and some good conversations. I was stopped several times by the police, who were suspicious, but they accepted my story and sent me on my way. I found some new places to sleep, like a baseball dugout. And I found I could usually check e-mail in libraries, and sometimes buy used books there, so I could have something good to read during my quiet hours alone. I called home often, telling my parents the stories about how my needs were provided for, day by day. And they told the stories to my younger brother, who lived in another state. My brother had been supportive, but he was surprised that I wasn’t even asking people for help. “He just prayed?” he asked my mother. “And he got it?” Then he said perhaps the most touching words a brother could hear: “I love God for taking care of Paul.”

As Sunday approached again, I tried to get cleaned up for church. I was able to wash clothes at a laundromat, and wash my hair in the bathroom sink there. But when I asked a young woman at a gas station if there was a church down the road, she said there wasn’t. Before stopping for the night, though, I noticed a tower with a bell set back from the road. 

It was a little, fairly new-looking Evangelical church. I had made a habit of visiting whatever church I happened to come to, so I met churchgoers of many different varieties. Sometimes they had very different ways of worshiping and talking about God and faith. But I was pretty comfortable with all the variations. At this church the people were very friendly, and I had a number of conversations before and after the service. There happened to be a potluck supper afterwards as well, so there were more good conversations. And I was glad for the meal. I had only three dollars with me.

At the beginning of the supper, the pastor had asked me to stand up and say a little about my walk. I was surprised and didn’t give a very good explanation, I thought. But as we finished eating, the pastor got up and announced that they had quietly taken up a collection for me. He presented me with $75. I was so surprised that I blushed in front of everyone and didn’t know what to say. Afterwards I went to thank the pastor. And also to give some of the money back. I wasn’t used to having so much money with me, and I actually felt it was better for me to have less. The pastor wouldn’t take it, though. “God gave you that much,” he told me, with a laugh. “You’re probably going to need it.”

So I thought maybe I could give some of it away, maybe in the bigger city I was headed for. I had a friend there who I was planning to visit. Then, later that day, a semi truck pulled over ahead of me, and the driver got out. He asked me if I needed a ride. This was very unusual. Commercial truck drivers never stopped to pick people up; I assumed it was against their company policies. But this guy seemed friendly, and I usually accepted invitations as an opportunity to talk to people. So I got to ride in a big truck and see a little of what that life is like. After talking with the man for a while, it seemed that he was pretty lonely. He had lost his wife and child in a car accident, not so long ago. Traveling around and working long hours helped keep his mind off it. But our conversation didn’t go like it had with the other very lonely man I had met. After a while it became pretty clear that this man was hoping for a kind of companionship that I wasn’t willing to offer. When I turned him down, he just seemed even more lonely. Random voices crackled on the CB radio. Then he asked where I wanted to be dropped off. We were already coming into the big city I was headed for, but we were on a major highway now, where walking was not allowed. And it was already dark. I just said he could pull over near the next exit. As I climbed down from the cab, I thanked him for helping me, and said I was sorry about his wife and child, and promised to pray for him. Then the truck rolled away into the night. 

I didn’t know where I was, exactly. I just walked down the exit ramp, hoping I could find a place to sleep. But this was a much more urban area than the places I had walked through so far. Tomorrow I could get my bearings. But where would I go tonight? I looked around at all the bright lights and signs in the darkness, and then I saw it. A motel right there. It looked nice, though, and right by the highway. It must be expensive. I went in and nervously asked how much a room cost.

It was $69. The pastor was right.

Continued...