Snow in the Panhandle

February 18-22, 2010

Mr. Dale Naylor gave us a motorhome last year and asked only one thing in return. He simply wanted us to visit his parents in Perrytown, Texas, sharing our testimony with them. The actual visiting and sharing isn't difficult, but it does take some planning to arrange our schedule to be in the area at the right time and place for such a thing. We called Dale several days in advance and asked him about coming to see his folks on Friday morning, the 19th since we were to sing in the pan handle of Oklahoma over the weekend. We didn't want to wait until Monday morning to visit with them because it would have been 3 weeks since we'd been home, my dad was at our home waiting for our return and the drive back to Tennessee was so long. Brother Dale said he thought that Friday morning might work. He told us that his dad's brother in Phoenix had turned 100 years old back in November and he was able to take his dad to see his brother and what a blessing that was. However, Dale had learned the day before our phone call that his uncle had passed away and he'd be taking his folks to the funeral in Lubbock on Thursday. So we set out mid day from Texarkana and landed in Amarillo that night waiting for Brother Dale's call the following morning. Unfortunately it didn't work out to meet with the Naylor's on Friday morning as the senior Naylor had to see the doctor, but they asked if we could have lunch together after church on Sunday. We agreed to those plans and after some time on the treadmill and school in the hotel room, we headed north on US 287 up to Boise (boyz) City, Oklahoma.

It wasn't difficult to find our two rooms at the Townsman Motel. Boise City is a small dusty flat and windy town with hundreds of trucks rumbling through every day heading every direction. Five US Highway's intersect at Boise City creating an active community of hairy, deisel-smelling, gear-shifting truckers. I'll mention a couple of them later.

We met Pastor Frank Lynch at the Pizza Hut just a stone's throw from our motel and had a great time laughing at him as he entertained the children. Pastor Frank is a widow of 18 months and he was not alone in his grief. His church family mourned longer for Mickie than he did. The grief stayed with him longer than he thought it should have so one day in his tears he lifted his arms and began to praise God out loud. After a while the grief left. A couple of days later it returned so up went his arms again and praise came out of his mouth. It left again. This continued until one day the grief left never to return. He attended one of our concerts in the Panhandle a year earlier and decided he wanted to have us come share our testimony with his church. So here we were a year later and after our meal we drove a couple of blocks from Pizza Hut to Pentecostal Holiness Church.

We had a great service followed by a moving altar call where I prayed with a dear Indian woman who lifted up her 3 sons to the Lord, one of which was in prison.

The following morning we slept as late as we wanted because there was no free breakfast, rose slowly and I began bathing kids and getting school done. We do school on Saturdays when we're on the road and there's nothing else to do. Might as well, right? We got a late checkout and were back at the Pizza Hut by 1:30 since there was no where else to go. After filling our bellies, Bobby walked to the truck stop next door and bought us a couple of decks of cards. So over the next 2 and half hours we hung out at Pizza Hut playing cards to kill time until it was time to drive to Felt.

I said I was going to mention a couple of truckers. As we played cards, a tall man in a winter parka and flip flops came in for a personal pizza. It didn't take him long to make friends with Faith...or maybe it didn't take long for Faith to make friends with him...I'm not sure. What started out as a little bit of small talk across the room turned into larger talk, sharing of some pizza and moving over to our side of the room all followed by a mini concert by Hope and Faith. The gentleman, Greg, started saying he'd better go get some sleep as he intended to drive later that night to Colorado. But after a song, Hope would say, “one more.” He agreed to one more song three times I think. I didn't feel too bad as he seemed to be happy to talk to us. He was a former pastor from North Carolina, retired and driving for something to do. We saw pictures of his entire family, learned that he had been involved in several church plants and found out he tackled O.J. Simpson in college football. On his way out, without saying anything to us, he gave the cashier $20 toward our lunch. There was something about him that, after he left, made me feel like there was something not quite right about the whole encounter. Many thoughts crossed my mind like, “were we entertaining an angel?” or “was all that he just said based on a true story but none of it was a part of his life any more, including a loving wife at home.” We'll never know.

Another quick encounter with a truck driver was an Irish gentleman that came into the restaurant just as we were about to leave. He answered a question I asked him, starting out with a beautiful Irish accent but as he continued his Irish accent disappeared and all of sudden he sounded like he was from Indiana. He must have forgotten who he was or where he was...or somethin'. Weird!

Finally it was time to make the 20 mile drive west to Felt where we were reunited with our friends, Pastor Orden and his sweet wife, Gayla Hartley. This is a dear and precious family with children, Sherri, who is Hope's age and little Orden J.T. Who is Faith's age. They are also hosting a foreign exchange student this year from Japan and... I hope they can forgive me but I cannot remember his name.

The ladies of Felt Baptist Church prepared a delicious meal before the service and we had a good time that evening with the Hartley's and their church family. At the end of the service Pastor Orden asked our family to come to the front as he prayed for our safety on the road. It had been very foggy all day and the fog remained after church as we began our trek east toward Guymon. In the first 20 miles between Felt and Boise City, we saw lightening, but just east of Boise City it began to snow. It snowed big heavy flakes and soon the road was covered. However, traffic was very light and although Bobby couldn't see the lines, he could see the edge of the road and that was all that mattered. We crept along at 35 miles an hour the entire 80 miles to Guymon, feeling the van slip on the road only twice. How thankful we were for God's hand of protection on us.

With the slow go of it, we didn't make it to bed until after midnight. I so dislike those late nights to bed followed by those early mornings to rise and drive a good distance to the church. We had another 70 miles to Balko Baptist Church where we were sing in the morning. The good thing about it was Brother Dale paid for our 2 adjoining rooms. Everyone went to sleep very quickly and I was up again at 6:00. Bobby was calling Pastor Mark from Balko Baptist before 7:00 and asking him if there was church. Pastor Mark looked out of his window and said that all he could see out there was ice. But he said he'd talk to the board and call us back. Bobby got in the shower and I went to breakfast. We let the children sleep mainly because we doubted there would any church and if there was we'd just put the kids in the van in their pajamas and dress 'em going down the road.

They canceled services at Balko Baptist Church that morning as well as Sunday evening in Clayton, New Mexico where we were going to be that night and rather than start driving home, Bobby said he'd rather sit in the hotel room all day and drive on Monday. Since the expense of the second night was coming out of our pockets, we closed the door to one of the rooms and all moved into the other. I was a little disappointed about not heading home but it was a good and relaxing day. Landis and I went to the fitness room and we took the kids to the pool, an amenity they rarely have time to enjoy.

Bedtime wasn't so relaxing. We didn't get as much sleep as we thought we'd get. Since we had such a long drive home, I had the bright idea of going to bed at 9:00 so we could get a good night's rest and rise at 5:00, therefore leaving for home at 7:00. I usually use the alarm on my cell but I decided to turn it off and charge it. I called the front desk and asked them for a wake up call. Then Grace decided she wasn't ready to sleep. I'll tell ya when Grace isn't ready to go to sleep, there's nothing you can do about it. At home we can put her in her bed, turn the light out and walk away but when we're all in one hotel room that's not possible. You can't go to sleep while she's awake because she might fall off of that high bed onto that hard floor. You can't tell her to go to sleep because she'll get upset and might start screaming. You don't want that in a hotel room. The only thing you can do is either turn the TV on allowing all of the children to stay up later, zombied out on the boob tube, try playing music on the laptop, or talking about things that redirect her thoughts and help her relax. Usually Bobby opts to turn the Tube on and there we are: the whole family up late in a dark room with the TV flashing dark and bright, warping our minds. We didn't get to sleep until sometime between 11 and midnight and then I wasn't even in my bed. I was lying crosswise in a bed with Hope and Grace who I successfully kept from kicking me too much. I awoke to a kicking Grace at 1:00 and pinned her kicking legs down just enough to avoid being kicked again but not enough to make her mad at me until she fell back asleep at 1:30. The next thing I knew Bobby was waking me telling me it was 7:00. The front desk had failed to wake us (that's why I don't trust the front desk nor the room alarm clocks for church mornings) but it was just as well. We didn't get enough sleep to get up at 5:00. So we got started at our usual time – 9:00. We had a few icy patches before we made it to Interstate 40 and other than our left fender on the trailer falling off in Oklahoma City, it was an uneventful trip and I couldn't be more glad to be out of the van and out of hotel rooms, but home where I could rest.