Where's the Truth?

One thing I've picked up since returning to the States is that the media is so full of misconceptions. I knew this in part, but now I see it even more clearly. News reports and entertainment put out the idea that the Church is dead; that God's people are making no real impact on this country or the world; that Jesus can't be taken seriously because no evidence of his resurrection exists, and certainly no one believes in such nonsense anymore. But that's not our experienced reality.

As we've travelled, we've seen countless examples of genuine faith; of people sacrificing to bless others and overcome trials by faith; of families reuniting and forgiving, and of communities being changed for the better. I met a man who uses his revenue properties as an opportunity to speak into the lives of his tenants. I heard first hand of another who has pushed out the drugs and gangs in 3 city blocks by peaceful confrontation. I've met parents who's children have gone to fight in the middle east or who've gone themselves, and whose faith is stronger for trusting God with the battle. I've seen people who minister to the poor, the widowed, the orphans. We have several friends who've adopted and more who are in the process. We've seen Bible studies and worship services and community projects and outreach where people are changed. The stories we've heard would move you to tears.

The truth: it's not found on MSNBC or CNN or Fox News. The truth is that God is alive and well, and his people are on the move. For anyone who's doubting if a life of faith can make a difference, I'd say two things: 1) turn off the TV -- it's all brain rot, and 2) go and share your faith. You'll not only see God move in and through you, but you'll also meet others who are doing the same. Now, why isn't this making the front page?

On the Road...Again

So, here we are in Bandon, Oregon. We've already put 5,000 miles on the truck, and she's beginning to let us know. Nothing major, but she's got a couple hiccups: lights needing replacing, wiper blades split, slight click in the engine, driver-side door lock no longer electric. A few others too. We just pray that we'll make it back to Arkansas. And if we have to have a major overhaul, then we'll look for the person we are to share with while waiting.

Tomorrow we enter California. We'll hit the Redwood forest up first, then camp before meeting our friend Justin in Lincoln. We'll present Mountainview's work to his church and hang out for the weekend. He's promising a pool party and barbecue.

One last picture. Here's the Chevy on the high plains east of the Tetons. She handled the mountains quite well. Although the sands of the Pacific are another story for another blog.

Panoramas

A few of my favorites.

A vain attempt to capture some of the grandure of the Badlands of South Dakota.



The Rockies in Rocky Mountain National Park, just above Estes Park, Colorado.

Click to blow up image.

What Happens When A Truck Sits?

This is a truck at our friend Oscar's. He and his wife Pansy have a beautiful bit of land above Wheatland where trucks go to die. It's a truck hospice. This was my favorite.

Sleeping in the Chevy

On the road from Winnipeg to , Wheatland, Wyoming, Mona and I camped in Rapid City, South Dakota for a few nights. We had some time to spare and thought we'd take in Mount Rushmore and a few other memorable sights.

We found a camp sight in Piedmont, just on the edge of the Black Hills, and pitched a tent for the night. That first night a light sprinkle washed off the dust, with a bright shining sun in the early morning.

About midday, as we were out in Rapid City, half way through a human maze, a storm blew in from the north and ransaced our campsight. When we arrived, we found our tent flat on the ground in a puddle. Sleeping bags and pillows were soaked. We pulled out our gear and put it in several dryers, then went to the only indoor place around -- a biker bar. Mona and I spent the next couple of hours talking to bikers from all over the country and hearing their heroing stories of surviving the torent on two wheels.

That night, midnight brought in another round of storms. Lighting, beginning on the distant horizon, edged its way closer. By 1 A.M. we were high-tailing it to the truck from our tent in the trees. Lightning was so prevelent that with my eyes closed it looked like Mona was flashing her headlamp in my face.

We're very thankful for this Chevy, but I never thought I'd end up spending the night in the passenger seat being rocked to sleep by derecho winds.