Ministry Update
Feast or famine. That is how the ministry of evangelism has often been described, and that phrase has described this year very aptly. The first part of the year was the busiest spring we have ever had while this fall has been one of few meetings. Yesterday, however, was a time of excitement for me. After living in a normal house for a few months, after knowing firsthand the benefits of having all my library accessible, after having a piano readily accessible every day, after having all the space we need as a family so that the children were never under our feet—after all that, I moved my family yesterday back into the trailer to head south toward Alabama and a revival meeting. And what is more, I was excited to do it. Excited to leave behind the normal settled existence that I had grown to know in our house. Excited to cram all six of us into the cab of the truck for hours on end. Excited to settle down after the travel in a home where we are constantly crawling on top of each other. The excitement, of course, is not primarily to be living in the trailer so much as it is for the reason we do this in the first place: a revival meeting. The chance to beg God every night for His mind as to what to preach, the chance to plead for His power every day several times throughout the day, the chance to see lives changed and eternity affected—this is the ultimate reason for my excitement every time I load the trailer for another trip. But I would be less than truthful if I did not admit that I enjoy all the other attendant circumstances of heading to a revival meeting. I actually enjoy the travel, the trailer life, and even the cramped quarters. I don’t even complain about preaching in a suit and tie, so much so that I often liken the task of dressing up to a fighter pilot putting on his flight suit for another mission. Thank God to be in another meeting.
Oh, regarding the famine time of no meetings? God provided for our every need as He always has done in the past and as He will continue to do in the future.
Family Update
Ahhhh! On the road again with trailer in tow – what a feeling! That feeling was preceded by other feelings, mostly stressful ones such as, “How am I ever going to get all this stuff ready to go?” and “the house is not clean,” and “I sure hope I don’t forget something important!” (I did…) It took us a while to get “moved” back into the trailer from the house, but by late afternoon Thursday we were on our way to Alabama. The day was one of those gorgeous fall days and I enjoyed seeing the vibrant colors of the changing leaves against the cloudless azure sky. We parked overnight in the greater Nashville area, and after several hours of driving, we were eager to rest our weary bodies. However, our much desired repose was less than invigorating for several reasons. The first reason was that we were parked on a steep hill, the incline of which left the front of the trailer several inches lower than the back. While this may not seem like a big deal, it does create a gravitational force that pulls me to the side of the bed, and if I am not careful, over the edge onto the twelve inches of floor beside it. The second reason was that we are now sleeping on what we have laughingly dubbed the “Bed of Affliction,” or BOA. Some time ago, you will recall, we bought a house, and have been in the process of remodeling, moving, and furnishing our new nest. Of course, we had some furniture in storage, but precious little, since we had downsized our possessions when we first purchased the trailer. One of the items we did not have was a queen size bed. No problem – we would just use the one in the trailer.
Now, RV mattresses are never anything to write home about, and our original mattress was no exception. A few years ago, we were given a regular mattress to replace the thin, lumpy RV mattress. It was really nice, although the gas springs that raised the bed platform (for under-the-bed storage) were not equipped to handle the weight of a regular mattress. Consequently, it now required two people to access the storage space, one of which had to have the strength of Atlas, and the other the speed of Mercury. After the desired item was retrieved, the sweating, straining, herniated one would release the platform, letting it fall with a resounding whump! At this point, the one retrieving would have visions of what it would be like to face the guillotine. We decided, then, to take the mattress from the trailer and move it into the house, since neither Paul nor I relished the thought of sleeping on the floor. We dragged the mattress off of the platform, groaning under its weight, and it promptly folded itself into something that resembled a very large taco. I do not know the exact weight of the mattress, but I will estimate it between 150-200 pounds. Somehow we managed to drag it into the house, around several corners, as well as up and down a few stairs and dumped it in the bedroom. I vowed then and there we would never move it again. I believe Paul seconded the motion.
This brings us to the present. Since there was no way we were going through the Olympic task of moving the mattress back into the trailer, we had to figure out some kind of sleeping arrangement. I had an inspiration. “We can just use the mattress out of the hide-a-bed couch in the trailer!” It isn’t very heavy, and I reasoned that we could use it in place of the other mattress for the few weeks we would be on the road. I have already mentioned that RV mattresses are somewhat below standard in quality, but an RV hide-a-bed couch mattress scores lower than a leaky air mattress. The article in question is a full-size mattress about two inches thick. I mentioned earlier that we normally use a queen size mattress, so this mattress is a good ten inches shorter than our normal bed. It really isn’t a problem for someone who stands 5’4” tall, but when you are 6’3”, there are some definite issues, as we discovered last night. The experience was somewhat akin to camping out in a sleeping bag, minus the rocks underneath. I think perhaps, the ground might actually have been softer than the wooden platform. Paul tried in vain to find some way to get comfortable, the fetal position being the only means to have all of his lanky frame on the mattress. It quickly became evident that neither of us was going to sleep well. I suggested that he try to sleep diagonally. This worked well for him, but meant that I was now shoved into the upper right hand corner of the bed. In retrospect, it was not bad, because the angle offset the gravity problem of the uneven trailer, and I was no longer in danger of falling out of bed.
This is not the first BOA on which I have ever slept. In years gone by I have slept on lumpy beds, hard beds, sagging beds, scratchy beds, beds with dirty sheets, beds with flat pillows, and beds covered in animal hair. However, this time, I don’t have to endure it for just a night, or even a week – it is a BOA of my own making that I must endure for at least three weeks at this point! The worst part about it is that the couch is now defunct as well, having sacrificed its innards that we might have a place to sleep. The couch doesn’t look too bad at first glance, but beware the casual sitter! It swallows up people like an oversized Venus fly-trap, and the victims must be extracted by their hands and feet, usually the only thing sticking out from between the flapping cushions. “Where’s your sister? AAAHHHH! The couch got her! Quick! Help me get her out!”
So if you see us in the next few weeks, don’t be surprised if we look as if we haven’t been sleeping well. It all comes from having a BOA in the house.
