Homeless for a night

I knew that night, in Wichita Falls, that the weather was going to get cold. Fortunately, Shawn, whom I met earlier that day, told me about a place called Faith Mission that would let me stay the night. When I arrived into the city and talked with some people, I realized that it was a homeless shelter. So, I braced my mind for sleeping the night in a homeless shelter, which I had never done before. I get to the mission 10 minutes before they lock the outside gate (such a relief!), and after 5 bowls of their bean soup, I join the other men in the dorm. I tried to blend in as much as possible, and I didn't let on that, financially, I was fine. But, I looked the part pretty well, and they didn't seem to have any standards for admittance. So, I joined all these other men in this shelter, in a dorm like setting, and was homeless for a night. As I lay in bed, I was laughing to myself at the irony, how I had chosen to put myself in this position, and out of desire to be warm, made myself homeless. I am so grateful that the Mission was far from being a permanent residence for me. Even so, I thought it funny how I had ended up in that situation, and how no one questioned my presence there.

I had a chance to briefly talk to one of the men there in the morning. He seemed much more put together than me, certainly better dressed. We didn't have much time to chat, but when I asked how he got there, he said he had just lost his job, and all of his resources had run out, and he was just doing what he needed to get by for the time being. Seemed like he should have had a family, a 9 to 5 job, and a house in the burbs. But I guess hard times can fall on anyone.

Friends in Strangers

So, the next morning, when I slept through my alarm, got a late start, and realized that I needed to ride 100 miles that day, I got a little anxious, and stressed about making time, especially against the wind. But, I took time out, throughout the day, to sit, and chill, and pray, and read. And I stopped stressing about it. I relaxed, and enjoyed the ride, much more so than the day before. Not only that, but I made it to where I wanted to get to – Seymour, TX - and wasn't even up real late. I was so much more at peace, and enjoyed the trip, as opposed to stressing about getting home. And I don't want to miss out on enjoying these last few weeks, even though I do want to get home. I want to enjoy and experience it as much as I can, and not miss a heartbeat. It was refreshing to refocus.

The next day, the rain came in, and I wasn't about to ride in it this time. At all. It was a cold, windy, overcast, British weather day, the kind I cannot abide, the kind that can make you sick in an instant. So, I rode to a small feed shop in Seymour, the Feed and Seed Barn, to wait out the storm. I had been told that a man worked there that loved to cycle. And I ended up hanging out there all morning, talking with James and Shawn, who both worked there. So cool! I just chatted with them about their families and their experiences, and how they like living in a town of a couple thousand. James and I talked cycling over lunch that day, and introduced me to everyone we saw. It was funny – I felt kinda like a celebrity.

I'm glad that I didn't miss that opportunity to meet such cool people, full of character and life, and hear their stories. I love getting to hear the stories of people in all walks of life, and I feel that God has wanted to use this trip for that purpose - to connect with people. Blessings to you guys!

I then headed on to Wichita Falls that afternoon, after the rain stopped, and even though it was miserable weather – overcast and windy – I enjoyed the ride. Just getting to hand out with cool people made it all worth it.

Losing focus

So, Wednesday I headed out from Lubbock for the second time, biking 4 miles out of my way to a bike shop that was supposed to be open, and wasn't. And then I flatted another 2 tubes that day, fighting tube patches, and having to carry my bike at times. It was really starting to get to me, all the problems my bike was having, and I was starting to get discouraged about my bike even making it home. I realize now that spokes and tubes are minor issues, but even so, it gets to you when you're on the road. I was really feeling like I was fighting God, trying to get home. I mean, that was my motivation and focus – push home, so I can get to see my family, which hasn't been together like that for a couple years. So, I was so focused on pushing on, making lots of miles, and making it on time. And I felt like God was resisting me. I thought of the Bible verse that said that God resists the proud – was I being proud about this?

Later that night, when I was setting up camp in Dickens, TX, and eating dinner, I realized that I was losing focus of the point of the trip, and I really wasn't focusing pursuing the Lord. I had been slacking on spending time in the Word, meditating, and praying. The phrase “you've lost you're first love” came to mind. Convicting. So, I resolved to take time to pray and read, no matter if I had a lot of miles to ride, if I was behind schedule, or what. It was a priority, and I needed to maintain that. Even so, I felt pretty miserable and lonely that night. I was kind of tired of being on the road.

Windy West Texas

The next day, I rode on to Lubbock, TX, which just ended up being a long, tiring day. I knew before I started that it was going to be end up being over 100 miles that day, which didn't really excite me. That, and I had a decent cross-wind hitting me all day, which makes life a little more difficult, and slow. So, it ended up becoming just a long day, spending a lot of time in the saddle. Not much to say there, except that when I say the Lubbock City Limit sign, I was kinda ecstatic. And then I had another 15 miles to go before the day was done.

But, again, the Lord provides. A lady that I met in Texico, NM, named Jo Igo, got me in contact with her son, Chris, who goes to Texas Tech. He lives with several other guys on the south side of town, and they let me crash at their place. It was great hanging with those guys, all of whom are solid guys, and really fun to be around. It reminded me a lot of the house I lived in my senior year of college, and the camaraderie we had there – a bunch of solid Christian guys growing and encouraging each other. What a huge blessing, especially after a completely draining day!

The next day, I was super determined to make some headway getting home, since I had been eager to get home by Thanksgiving. But, I'm guessing God had other plans. After breaking and replacing a broken spoke that morning, I hit the road, and quickly hit more problems. About ten blocks down the road, I ran over something and flatted my tire. No big deal – fixed it and went on. About a mile from the city limits, I broke a spoke, and really started questioning how far I was going to make it. And, get this, as I was fixing my spoke, another spoke broke. I don't know why. I guess it's one of those things. So, I spent an hour or two fixing my wheel, and decided to head back to stay with Chris and the guys. And I flatted another tire. At that point, I gave up, pretty much. Some days, you just can't win, and this was one of those days, I suppose. Maybe it was God telling me to stick around for another day. I don't know. Chris picked me up, and I stayed another night with the guys, which, again, was a huge blessing to even have that option. Thanks so much guys!

Charity

Recently, I've been the recipient of grace, in various forms, I suppose. Maybe charity is a better word for it. And, it's been a struggle to know how to deal with it. I think that a lot of it has to do with my personality, how I'm wired if you will. Take for instance a guy in Belen, NM, that gave me a few bucks out of nowhere, just walked up and gave it to me. Another guy, in Fort Sumner, NM, when I asked to fill up my water bottles, he started giving me a bunch of candy.

In Texico, last night (11/7), I was sitting in the gas station reading my Bible, solely because it was warm there, and I wanted to chill. I promise, I wasn't looking for handouts. A guy, with some coworkers, sits down near me, and shortly asks me if I'm hungry. I guess I look homeless – oh well. I said I'm fine, and we proceed to swap stories. He's from Cuidad Juarez – crazy, right? - and he travels back and forth to Oklahoma every week with a load of used cars. Anyway, he presses if I want anything, and I let him buy me a candy bar, since I have the worst sweet-tooth ever. He pays for it, and I see a disgusted look on the face of the lady behind the counter. Now, maybe I was imagining the look, but I started questioning myself – was it right to let him buy me a candy bar, potentially under the pretense of me being a legitimate hobo? I mean, I have food, I'm okay on money, I have a place to sleep at night (although it's sometimes cold). I'm not homeless or poor – so is it wrong to accept his charity?

So, today I get blown away, for the millionth time on this trip. I go to church at First Baptist in Texico, New Mexico. I'll admit, that I did want to, while I was at church, ask somebody about a place to do a load of laundry – my clothes reeked from desert sweat. So, when I'm chatting with the pastor, and he asks me if I need a place to stay, I decline, saying that I'm camping in the park. However, I did say that I'm looking for a place to do laundry, even a laundromat or something. After the service, he drives me and all my gear to Clovis, pays for a hotel room, pays for breakfast, and gives me a bunch of money for laundry. A hotel room. That's kind of a big expense, you know? I think he got tired of me saying “Thank You.” I feel like I should give him something in return, like I should somehow earn this gift, maybe clean his house from top to bottom or something. But, all that was right to do was receive. And that's really hard for me to do, all along this trip, is receive that which is freely given. I try to make sure that I don't beg, and that I'm honest about my need situation. But, even so, I feel like I need to earn it, to be independent. And that part of me is such an American, individualistic thing, and I think it makes it so hard to accept God's grace that He gives us, that we could never earn anyway. And yet we try. Or I try at least. The least, I can do, I think, is be grateful. Thank you so much, Rob Hollis, for a shower, and clean clothes, and being a conduit of grace. And to everyone who has given, I can't say thank you enough. May you be blessed even more than I.

Some Halloween candy, some respite

I left Fort Sumner early on Saturday, again trying to make it to the Texas border by that night. I met a cool guy that morning whom, when I saw him walking around outside, I asked for water. His name was Alberto, and he brought me into his place. We chatted for a little bit, and he ended up giving me a bag full of candy, and couple bananas. I thought it was rather funny, in an encouraging way – this stranger that I just met helping me out by giving what looked like leftover Halloween candy. Which I gladly accepted. I mean, it's candy. Don't have to ask tell me twice.

That day, I was feeling slightly under the weather, but that might have had something to do with the night spent in the desert. Maybe. But I made it to Texico, NM, found a place to camp, and crashed hard. Thank God for warm Kelty sleeping bags! I hid myself in the town park, with the police station right next to it, and hoping not to be seen by them. I was so ready to take a day off and let my legs relax, trying to get some decent sleep.

Finally, some tailwind

After waking up in the middle of nowhere, and realizing in the daylight that there really wasn't anything around, I started heading to the next town – Encino, NM. I had been really struggling mentally after Belen, since making a fairly big decision regarding my future and what I was going to be doing for the next year. I guess it was a big decision, and being me, I always second-guess myself. I wasn't very certain of the decision that I had made, and I started worrying. And when you have hours to yourself on a bike, it can tend to snowball. There were a lot of moments that day when I really didn't want to keep biking. So, I did a lot of praying that day, praying for God's will to be done, and just kept going.

Fortunately, there was some relief that afternoon, a little encouragement from the tailwind that I got. Since, in the desert, there might not be anything for, say, 60 miles, that day I had the choice of riding 40 miles, or 100 miles. So, being stubborn, I decided to ride 100, going to Fort Sumner. And I made it by sundown, due to the merciful western wind. It was exciting to feel fast, even if it had nothing to do with me. It gave my spirits a little lift, at the least. It was one of those rides when I couldn't see my destination until I was on top of it. Just little hill after little hill in the desert, with nothing around but the occasional train. Then, I crested a hill, and down in the valley sat Fort Sumner, out of nowhere. The day ended well.