The sun sets on 2005
Saturday, December 31, 2005
A Story Worth Telling
Does God really intervene in small ways to protect us from harm, even when we have no knowledge of danger?
One day last year, we traveled all afternoon on Interstate 80 across northern Pennsylvania. As we approached Ohio, I tried to call for a reservation at an RV Park located between Akron and Youngstown. No luck. I tried again and again, first at the national reservation number, then at the Park itself.
By now, Loreen was driving. Just beyond Youngstown, she pulled into a truck stop for fuel. She turned too quickly, and found herself among the pumps assigned to cars. It took several turns around cars and pumps to finally make our way out to the diesel pumps where all the trucks were lined up. We filled up with fuel and water.
I got a bright idea. “Why don’t we just park here for the night?” I asked. It was already 6:00. We hadn’t eaten anything yet, and a fine restaurant was located just across the parking lot. We parked the truck and trailer at the back of the lot and walked over to the restaurant. When we returned to the trailer, we carefully conserved battery power by using few lights and turning in early.
We awoke before sunrise, and found ourselves in total darkness. The battery in the trailer was completely dead. I couldn’t understand it. We had power the night before. Because of the darkness, we decided to dress quickly and walk to a nearby fast food restaurant to have breakfast. We finished and were ready to go in short order.
Since we left the truck and trailer hitched up the night before, I was surprised when the control for the trailer brakes did not show a connection. I checked as best I could in the darkness. I dug out my trailer manuals and studied them. I couldn’t find what my problem might be. I tried the brakes and they seemed to work. We started out, trusting God. All the way to Indiana, I left plenty of distance between us and other traffic. I didn’t trust the brakes.
We arrived at our destination about noon. When I parked the trailer and unhitched the truck, I made a chilling discovery. The cable for the breakaway switch had caught under the hitch and pulled the switch out. The breakaway switch is an emergency feature. It’s designed to stop a trailer by delivering 12 volts of battery power to the trailer brakes. Apparently, all those turns around the pumps wedged the cable under the hitch. Then the switch pulled out as I backed into a parking space. We sat in the truck stop all night while the battery drained to nothing.
I called an RV service center in Middlebury, Indiana to deliver the bad news. We already had an appointment for service the following week, but now I had more work for them to do. The technician who answered my call asked lots of questions, and then said, “You’re very fortunate. If the battery had been at full power when you drove with the switch engaged, the trailer wheels would have locked up. You would have ruined your brakes, and perhaps even crashed.” He promised to check the electrical system, but he indicated his belief that all would be fine.
Does God really intervene in small ways to protect us from harm, even when we have no knowledge of danger? I think I know the answer. In the Psalter it is written, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91:1-2)
MAY YOU BE BLESSED THROUGHOUT THE COMING YEAR
AS YOU PUT YOUR TRUST IN HIM
One day last year, we traveled all afternoon on Interstate 80 across northern Pennsylvania. As we approached Ohio, I tried to call for a reservation at an RV Park located between Akron and Youngstown. No luck. I tried again and again, first at the national reservation number, then at the Park itself.
By now, Loreen was driving. Just beyond Youngstown, she pulled into a truck stop for fuel. She turned too quickly, and found herself among the pumps assigned to cars. It took several turns around cars and pumps to finally make our way out to the diesel pumps where all the trucks were lined up. We filled up with fuel and water.
I got a bright idea. “Why don’t we just park here for the night?” I asked. It was already 6:00. We hadn’t eaten anything yet, and a fine restaurant was located just across the parking lot. We parked the truck and trailer at the back of the lot and walked over to the restaurant. When we returned to the trailer, we carefully conserved battery power by using few lights and turning in early.
We awoke before sunrise, and found ourselves in total darkness. The battery in the trailer was completely dead. I couldn’t understand it. We had power the night before. Because of the darkness, we decided to dress quickly and walk to a nearby fast food restaurant to have breakfast. We finished and were ready to go in short order.
Since we left the truck and trailer hitched up the night before, I was surprised when the control for the trailer brakes did not show a connection. I checked as best I could in the darkness. I dug out my trailer manuals and studied them. I couldn’t find what my problem might be. I tried the brakes and they seemed to work. We started out, trusting God. All the way to Indiana, I left plenty of distance between us and other traffic. I didn’t trust the brakes.
We arrived at our destination about noon. When I parked the trailer and unhitched the truck, I made a chilling discovery. The cable for the breakaway switch had caught under the hitch and pulled the switch out. The breakaway switch is an emergency feature. It’s designed to stop a trailer by delivering 12 volts of battery power to the trailer brakes. Apparently, all those turns around the pumps wedged the cable under the hitch. Then the switch pulled out as I backed into a parking space. We sat in the truck stop all night while the battery drained to nothing.
I called an RV service center in Middlebury, Indiana to deliver the bad news. We already had an appointment for service the following week, but now I had more work for them to do. The technician who answered my call asked lots of questions, and then said, “You’re very fortunate. If the battery had been at full power when you drove with the switch engaged, the trailer wheels would have locked up. You would have ruined your brakes, and perhaps even crashed.” He promised to check the electrical system, but he indicated his belief that all would be fine.
Does God really intervene in small ways to protect us from harm, even when we have no knowledge of danger? I think I know the answer. In the Psalter it is written, “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” (Psalm 91:1-2)
MAY YOU BE BLESSED THROUGHOUT THE COMING YEAR
AS YOU PUT YOUR TRUST IN HIM
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Practice Makes Perfect
So I have heard. My mother said it. So did my music teacher. I bought it, hook, line and sinker. That’s why I decided to practice backing up the trailer. Practice makes perfect. I’m a believer.
Furthermore, our 37' RV had not been moved for five months. After the fiasco of a stolen truck, we decided to stay away from civilization. Or should I say, un-civilization. We parked the trailer south of Florence, Arizona at a place called Desert Gardens. January through May. It was beautiful.
We hooked up on Memorial Day. The Park was nearly empty. The “snow birds” were gone. The heat of summer was upon us. I said to Loreen, “We should practice driving the trailer before we leave.” She agreed.
We drove around. Wide turns. Backed into a few parking spots. I’m a perfectionist. She’s a good-enough-ist. “Good enough,” she said. “Not quite,” I replied. “Let’s try one more time.” I pulled forward. She hollered. I looked in the mirror. The trailer had connected with a fence post. Tore the fender off. Yep. Practice makes perfect.
That’s the last time I practice. Next time I mess up the trailer, I want to mess it up while doing the real thing.
We have done a lot of the real thing this year. We closed on our Arizona home in March. Moved a Penske truck full of furniture and things at the end of April. Traveled all summer in the RV. Sold our Pennsylvania home in August. Traveled twice more (by air) in October and November, visiting places from Winona Lake, Indiana to New York City. It’s good to be home. You can have too much of the real thing.
Arizona is now our home, sort of. Most of our earthly possessions are in Saddlebrooke, an adult community north of Tucson. We love it here. The house, the mountains, the sunsets, the warm sun, the dry air, the neighbors . . . What gracious friends they have proven to be. Loreen brought some Christmas decorations from Pennsylvania. Not all of them, you understand. That would have taken a second truck. We kept only the best, and they are promoted to glory once more. The Moravian star is hanging over the front door. Candles are burning in the windows. Christmas music is everywhere. Almost like old times. Are you still reading? You must be a real friend.
We take the trailer out of storage on Monday. It hasn’t moved for three and a half months, so I imagine it needs a little attention. Besides, the Pennsylvania registration is no longer valid. I have to drive it someplace on Monday and get that corrected. Don’t tell anyone. Our plan is to drive to San Diego, California on Wednesday. There’s a park on the east side of San Diego that I want to visit. Then we’ll drive up to Norwalk on Friday or Saturday so we can be with Janae and Eric Goodwyn on Christmas day. Eric’s family, too. Dave and Sandy Goodwyn are gracious hosts, and they treat us like family. Of course, they have two dogs that they treat like family, too, so it’s easy for them. We look forward to being with our new family and friends at the Norwalk church on Christmas and New Year’s Day. We’ll drive the trailer back to storage in Arizona the first week of January and check the mail. Remember our new address: 62679 E. Northwood Road, Tucson, AZ 85739-2277. We still have our cell phones, but we also have a land line from Quest: 520-818-1623.
We will not see our three sons and two daughters (in law) on Christmas Day. We won’t see our three grandchildren, either. That really hurts. However, we were all together on Thanksgiving Day. Including Janae. We even flew Eric in from California at the last minute. It was a surprise for Janae. We got her good.
Jared and Allison live in Elizabethtown. They take care of Lauren Elizabeth for us. She is growing like a weed and doing well in preschool. Jared is really excited and proud about his new doctoral program at Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. Allison is not quite as excited. It’s a step into the unknown. Scarey.
Justin and Kati take care of Brendan Wilson and Kara Jean. Brendan is now in second grade and growing fast. He is almost as tall as Loreen, which isn’t saying much. Kara is the funniest little girl I’ve ever met. She called one night last week asking Grandma to come over and give her a bath. Justin still works at Hershey Medical Center and Kati works part time at MorningStar, a ministry of Grace Church. They bought a house south of Lititz, near the airport.
Jason still lives in King of Prussia. He completed his Master’s Degree in Mathematics this year. Wendy Chang is his best girl friend. She was with us for Thanksgiving. She survived. With this wild bunch, I don’t know how, but she did. Jason continues his work as a computer engineer at Lockheed Martin.
I’m all through practicing to be perfect. Since Jesus came and died and rose again, I now live his life. Not my own. I will never be perfect, no matter how hard I practice. I’m glad for Jesus. Aren’t you?
Furthermore, our 37' RV had not been moved for five months. After the fiasco of a stolen truck, we decided to stay away from civilization. Or should I say, un-civilization. We parked the trailer south of Florence, Arizona at a place called Desert Gardens. January through May. It was beautiful.
We hooked up on Memorial Day. The Park was nearly empty. The “snow birds” were gone. The heat of summer was upon us. I said to Loreen, “We should practice driving the trailer before we leave.” She agreed.
We drove around. Wide turns. Backed into a few parking spots. I’m a perfectionist. She’s a good-enough-ist. “Good enough,” she said. “Not quite,” I replied. “Let’s try one more time.” I pulled forward. She hollered. I looked in the mirror. The trailer had connected with a fence post. Tore the fender off. Yep. Practice makes perfect.
That’s the last time I practice. Next time I mess up the trailer, I want to mess it up while doing the real thing.
We have done a lot of the real thing this year. We closed on our Arizona home in March. Moved a Penske truck full of furniture and things at the end of April. Traveled all summer in the RV. Sold our Pennsylvania home in August. Traveled twice more (by air) in October and November, visiting places from Winona Lake, Indiana to New York City. It’s good to be home. You can have too much of the real thing.
Arizona is now our home, sort of. Most of our earthly possessions are in Saddlebrooke, an adult community north of Tucson. We love it here. The house, the mountains, the sunsets, the warm sun, the dry air, the neighbors . . . What gracious friends they have proven to be. Loreen brought some Christmas decorations from Pennsylvania. Not all of them, you understand. That would have taken a second truck. We kept only the best, and they are promoted to glory once more. The Moravian star is hanging over the front door. Candles are burning in the windows. Christmas music is everywhere. Almost like old times. Are you still reading? You must be a real friend.
We take the trailer out of storage on Monday. It hasn’t moved for three and a half months, so I imagine it needs a little attention. Besides, the Pennsylvania registration is no longer valid. I have to drive it someplace on Monday and get that corrected. Don’t tell anyone. Our plan is to drive to San Diego, California on Wednesday. There’s a park on the east side of San Diego that I want to visit. Then we’ll drive up to Norwalk on Friday or Saturday so we can be with Janae and Eric Goodwyn on Christmas day. Eric’s family, too. Dave and Sandy Goodwyn are gracious hosts, and they treat us like family. Of course, they have two dogs that they treat like family, too, so it’s easy for them. We look forward to being with our new family and friends at the Norwalk church on Christmas and New Year’s Day. We’ll drive the trailer back to storage in Arizona the first week of January and check the mail. Remember our new address: 62679 E. Northwood Road, Tucson, AZ 85739-2277. We still have our cell phones, but we also have a land line from Quest: 520-818-1623.
We will not see our three sons and two daughters (in law) on Christmas Day. We won’t see our three grandchildren, either. That really hurts. However, we were all together on Thanksgiving Day. Including Janae. We even flew Eric in from California at the last minute. It was a surprise for Janae. We got her good.
Jared and Allison live in Elizabethtown. They take care of Lauren Elizabeth for us. She is growing like a weed and doing well in preschool. Jared is really excited and proud about his new doctoral program at Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine. Allison is not quite as excited. It’s a step into the unknown. Scarey.
Justin and Kati take care of Brendan Wilson and Kara Jean. Brendan is now in second grade and growing fast. He is almost as tall as Loreen, which isn’t saying much. Kara is the funniest little girl I’ve ever met. She called one night last week asking Grandma to come over and give her a bath. Justin still works at Hershey Medical Center and Kati works part time at MorningStar, a ministry of Grace Church. They bought a house south of Lititz, near the airport.
Jason still lives in King of Prussia. He completed his Master’s Degree in Mathematics this year. Wendy Chang is his best girl friend. She was with us for Thanksgiving. She survived. With this wild bunch, I don’t know how, but she did. Jason continues his work as a computer engineer at Lockheed Martin.
I’m all through practicing to be perfect. Since Jesus came and died and rose again, I now live his life. Not my own. I will never be perfect, no matter how hard I practice. I’m glad for Jesus. Aren’t you?
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Coming Your Way: A Travel Documentary
After announcing my retirement from full time pastoral ministry, I realized that I needed a whole new persona. I would no longer be pastor of Grace Church in Lititz, Pennsylvania. The role I practiced for 33 years in one locale would soon be in the hands of another. For his sake, I reasoned, I needed to reduce my presence.
After thinking and praying and talking with my wife, I found the answer. A recreational vehicle was our perfect “down-size-get-out-of-town-quick” plan. So we bought a truck. A big one. Then we bought a “fifth wheel” trailer. Also a big one. We are on the road. Full time.
Loreen was the first to announce that we are now “trailer trash.” The name stuck. Every two months or so, I write the trailer trash journal for those who care to know where we are and how we are getting on. I suppose some people don’t care but get it anyway. If you want it, or don’t want it, just let me know. Electronic mail is cheap. My skin is tough.
Since last July, we have driven our trailer in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri. Whenever possible, we invite pastors and their wives out for breakfast, lunch or dinner. We especially enjoy opportunities to visit churches in out-of-the-way places, like McAllen, Texas and Beaver City, Nebraska.
We have learned lots of lessons. Most of them are in the “what not to do” category, such as “don’t park your truck in a motel parking lot and fly off to another state for two weeks.” Not unless you want it stolen. Again, “never back a trailer into a parking space without looking up.” Not unless you want to replace the roof. This traveling business can be expensive.
Along the way, we also fly to destinations upon request. We have taken that option to Washington and California, Texas and Ohio, Maryland and Pennsylvania. I have been the guest speaker in four district ministerial meetings and six churches. I speak only by invitation. I don’t ask. In this regard, the sovereign hand of God behind the scenes is very apparent.
We parked our trailer near Florence, Arizona in January. For those who care to know, Florence is located southeast of Phoenix. It was a wet winter, by Arizona standards, and the desert was absolutely stunning by spring. Forty miles to the south, our new home was under construction. We drove down each week to check its progress, signed the papers in March and moved in April.
We lived in our new home one month before packing up and heading east. It was great to be back with our family and friends. We attended worship services at Grace Church for the first time in a year. We visited pastors and churches in Ohio and Indiana. We spent a week at Equip05 in Winona Lake, Indiana. The best news, however, is that we sold our Pennsylvania home on August 17. Two days later, we left for the west. Leaving our kids and grandkids was hard. Leaving hot, muggy weather along the east coast was easy.
At the moment, we are parked along Interstate 40 on the East side of Albuquerque. Our original plan was to visit the Northwest before turning south and traveling through the whole of California. However, we are expected back in Arizona by the first week of September. There just wasn’t enough time. So we skedaddled for Tucson.
After all, the southwest is now our home. Well, sort of.
After thinking and praying and talking with my wife, I found the answer. A recreational vehicle was our perfect “down-size-get-out-of-town-quick” plan. So we bought a truck. A big one. Then we bought a “fifth wheel” trailer. Also a big one. We are on the road. Full time.
Loreen was the first to announce that we are now “trailer trash.” The name stuck. Every two months or so, I write the trailer trash journal for those who care to know where we are and how we are getting on. I suppose some people don’t care but get it anyway. If you want it, or don’t want it, just let me know. Electronic mail is cheap. My skin is tough.
Since last July, we have driven our trailer in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Missouri. Whenever possible, we invite pastors and their wives out for breakfast, lunch or dinner. We especially enjoy opportunities to visit churches in out-of-the-way places, like McAllen, Texas and Beaver City, Nebraska.
We have learned lots of lessons. Most of them are in the “what not to do” category, such as “don’t park your truck in a motel parking lot and fly off to another state for two weeks.” Not unless you want it stolen. Again, “never back a trailer into a parking space without looking up.” Not unless you want to replace the roof. This traveling business can be expensive.
Along the way, we also fly to destinations upon request. We have taken that option to Washington and California, Texas and Ohio, Maryland and Pennsylvania. I have been the guest speaker in four district ministerial meetings and six churches. I speak only by invitation. I don’t ask. In this regard, the sovereign hand of God behind the scenes is very apparent.
We parked our trailer near Florence, Arizona in January. For those who care to know, Florence is located southeast of Phoenix. It was a wet winter, by Arizona standards, and the desert was absolutely stunning by spring. Forty miles to the south, our new home was under construction. We drove down each week to check its progress, signed the papers in March and moved in April.
We lived in our new home one month before packing up and heading east. It was great to be back with our family and friends. We attended worship services at Grace Church for the first time in a year. We visited pastors and churches in Ohio and Indiana. We spent a week at Equip05 in Winona Lake, Indiana. The best news, however, is that we sold our Pennsylvania home on August 17. Two days later, we left for the west. Leaving our kids and grandkids was hard. Leaving hot, muggy weather along the east coast was easy.
At the moment, we are parked along Interstate 40 on the East side of Albuquerque. Our original plan was to visit the Northwest before turning south and traveling through the whole of California. However, we are expected back in Arizona by the first week of September. There just wasn’t enough time. So we skedaddled for Tucson.
After all, the southwest is now our home. Well, sort of.
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