Chronicle of Matt's Journey to Missoula: Part the 1st

Brothers and Sisters, Family and Friends,

Forgive me please for not sending out this mass-email earlier, but when I arrived at my hotel last night the wireless network was down, and I was too tired to wait for it to get fixed. I opted to go to bed instead, and (since Fortune favours the sleepy!) was pleasantly surprised upon rising half an hour early to discover the network had been repaired while I slept. Praise God!

I send this email to you from Sturgis, South Dakota. It is 30 miles from Wyoming, towards the western end of the Black Hills region. It is approximately 4:45am here, and since this is in Mountain Time (I entered Mountain Time yesterday afternoon crossing into Jackson, South Dakota) it is 6:45am back East. Multiple times during this drive I have made myself laugh at how utterly natural it is, entirely without intent, to begin using the phrase 'back East' in your speech and thoughts! Even when driving alone or praying, I have caught myself naturally using that expression when thinking of each of you, my dearly beloved family and friends. Perhaps it happens when one drives across two time zones and through 7 states... perhaps I am simply idiomatic... regardless, tolerate this letter of excitement, findings, and affections, I beg you all.

Do please allow me to tell you of my journey thus far! It has been nothing short of an adventure, and as with all good adventures there have been surprises both pleasant and unpleasant. Fortuitously, unlike many adventurers I have the Host of Heaven to protect me, and its Captain has made His presence and protection manifest multiple times already. Hallelujah!
I left Indiana just a few moments before 6am on Thursday morning. Thanks go to my dear little sister, who (being of infinitely greater wisdom and strength than she credits herself in possessing!) was the very last to see me off. Mindy, I love you very much and am deeply grateful for the hug, the hot cup of Black & Gold (I already miss the Commonplace!), and the infinite rightness of you being the last to whom I said goodbye. Remember that help will always be available to you, and that I am proud of you for growing into the resolute and uncompromising young woman you are no longer becoming, but rather have become.

Once on the road I smoothly drove across western Pennsylvania, approximately 80 miles in perhaps an hour and a half. Michelle, I had hoped for the irony of seeing you on your way to work while putting down 422 behind a coal truck, but apparently that was not to be! Katie, passing the Butler area on 79 made me think of you and smile. I also had the pleasure of speaking for a bit with my father on the phone; that was not only encouraging but genuinely fun as we joked a bit about getting on the road early and facing a long drive. Thanks, Dad! Once in Ohio the sun began to rise completely over the horizon, and I was struck by the surprising beauty of the multitudes of small swamps and bogs I passed on the north side of I-80. Reminded me not a small bit like the Chesapeake, albeit far colder! I must conceed that I smirked a bit while passing Cleveland, given the double beatings we inflicted on them this season, but then laughed it off. I also admit that I was quite pleasantly surprised to discover that Ohio's turnpike has by far the cleanest, friendliest and loveliest rest stops I've yet encountered. They're quite pretty to look at, with a rather shallow dome atop them; I actually took a picture of one!

Exactly 350 miles into my journey I stopped to refuel in Fort Wayne, Indiana. The Mobil station was rather unpleasant in my eyes, probably because gas prices jumped from $2.92 at the end of Ohio to $3.39 in Fort Wayne. Nonetheless God be praised that my gas mileage thus far was 350 miles to 1 tank, and I have averaged approximately 325 miles to the tank throughout the journey. Regretably, the further West I have driven the lower the temperature has gone and therefore the more fuel I have siphoned off from mileage by turning up the heater! I enjoyed a very pleasant phone call with Jen, who informed me that she & Michael missed me dearly already but were praying for my safety and Providential blessings in this new chapter of my life. Thank you dearly Flickingers, and I do love and miss you as well. I believe I sent out a text message to Mike Edmunds when passing Southbend, but don't know if he got it. Those of you who are not of the purer faith like us shall not understand, haha.

Indiana proved to be a terribly boring state, and altogether a bit dour in appearance. It might have been the low cloud cover, the periodic snow squalls, or the poor condition of the roads. Regardless, I was initially happy to leave it behind and enter Illinois. That changed seconds after crossing the line, as I was pulled involuntarily but unavoidably onto a system of vast bridges which crossed several rivers, inlets and swamps to bring me safely (but expensively thanks to ridiculous tolls!) into Chicago. The city proved to be... rather boring, actually. Traffic was congested but not as badly as I'd feared, and so I was able to move through the city without too much of a delay or frustration. It helped that my cd player conked out for a bit, and then I was blessed to stumble across a radio program wherein a missionary was preaching out of the story of Elisha and the Syrian army in 2 Kings, and taking extensive note that despite God's power being used to blind and thereby cripple the Syrian army when Elisha prayed, it also showed the magnanimity and compassion of God since Elisha told the king of Israel to spare the Syrians, feed them, and release them rather than kill or imprison them. A good word, amen!

Northwest of Chicago, the 'land of Lincoln' (you'll forgive me for repressing a shudder) proved boring, and ultimately unpleasant, although that was primarily due to the frequent toll stops on the interstate which nickel and dimed me. About 30 miles from Wisconsin a quite nasty snow squall set in, inducing a legitimate white-out. Remembering the word I'd heard about Elisha only an hour earlier, I promptly prayed that Christ would restrain the immoderate weather and grant me safe passage to my hotel in Wisconsin. No sooner did I say 'amen' and the snow miraculously (no pun intended!) dissipated! In less than a mile all traces of the squall were gone, and I enjoyed nothing but clear skies all the way to my hotel. Hallelujah!

A further blessing happened a few miles into Wisconsin, when I was looking for my hotel's exit off I-90; the signs were encrusted with hardened, frozen snow (much like all of Wisconsin!) and thus difficult to read. I thought I had the right exit, and turned right; however I immediately hit a patch of complete ice which projected me around a curve and into a truck pullover area; the ice was so thick and slick that I could neither stop the car nor turn around, and in frustration I gave up and just focused on gripping the wheel to keep the car on the road. A few seconds later the little pullover road spilled me back onto I-90, in an entrance/exit lane less than 30 yards from the exit I needed for my hotel. Instantly I realized that in all likelihood I might have missed the exit given the encrustings upon the signs, and that far from being an annoyance or danger the accidental icy turnoff had actually guided me exactly to where I needed to be. Again, hallelujah!

I thus arrived safely at my hotel, enjoyed the accomodations, found a quite pleasant (albeit at times a bit lewd, unfortunately) Russel Crowe movie on HBO called 'One Good Year' about an Englishman inheriting his uncle's chateau & vineyards in the Provence (the south of France), had several very enjoyable conversations with my parents and some friends (thank you to all with whom I spoke Thursday evening, the encouragement really helped!), took a hot shower to soothe my head & chest (this bloody wretched cold refuses to leave, haha), and then got some sleep. During the night the temperature dropped all the way to 2 degrees, not including the wind chill. I rose early and hit the road at 5am (CST, 6am EST). 80 miles into the drive I refueled, got plenty of hot coffee along with a hot breakfast sandwich, and continued driving.

Wisconsin proved in the predawn greyness and early morning sunlight to be a vividly beautiful state of erie, dark pine forests which enclosed the road, sudden hills and rocky bluffs, and broad fertile vallies. All was heavily covered in frozen snow, given the landscapes a bit of a Scandinavian or German feel.

Nothing, however, prepared me for the sudden topographical and psychological change upon reaching and crossing the Mississippi. Good heavens but it was spectacular... the river was immense, frozen whole from bank to bank, and on the Minnesota side were the steepest and most sudden riverside cliffs I'd ever seen. Once up to the top, however, Minnesota stretched out into one vast plateau. The only word I can describe it with is... windy. Never in all my life have I fought so hard to keep my car on the highway, haha. Those strong north winds came literally blasting down, bringing an unending assault of blowing snow off the fields and powerful gusts upon me. Throughout I never wavered, but rather took advantage of the Waterdeep cassette Aaron & Ellen Nygren gave me for the trip. Someone do please forward this email to them with my deepest gratitude; the batteries of my cd player died 70 miles into Minnesota, and that Waterdeep cassette proved to be quite possibly the biggest single blessing of the journey thus far. The sheer passion of their worship, and the stories which they weave, carried my heart warmly even as the wind chill took the temperature well below zero. Jesus and I had quite a few joyful conversations throughout that stretch, and His presence completed the heartwarming begun by Waterdeep. At no point did I lack for encouragement or good cheer, thanks to the sure mercies of my Father.

From Minnesota it was on to South Dakota, and I can summarize South Dakota thusly- it never ends! I have decided that all the world is in South Dakota, haha. Never have I comprehended my own utter insignificance so thoroughly as coming across the sheer vastness of this state. From east to west and north to south, the land simply stretched without end. There were three abrupt and awing deviations to that pattern, and I expended much film attempting to capture those scenes. They were the crossing of the Missouri river, the passing of the Badlands, and the Black Hills. Beloved, if one can see the paradoxical intricacy and enormity of these topographical beauties without perceiving the subtle hand of the Creator, one's heart can only be described as hardened. More than once passing such natural monuments or moving across the unending plains I was reduced to tears by Paul's words in Romans that Creation itself testifies of God's existence, and has been brought low by the weight of our Curse and environmental depredations. Each time Christ cheered my heart by reminding me that as vast and wondrous as Creation is, 'are you not more valuable than the sparrows?'

Being continuously reminded that the same God which crafted the wonders my eyes struggled to take into vision also numbered the hairs on my head (those few which remain! haha), crushed the Terrible One who had laid low our race through the Curse, and unchained me from my dark prison cell that I may dance at His feet in the Light of His love bathed me again and again. Broken I admittedly am, but I can be brave because my King, my Father and my Friend atones and battles for me, asking only that I take courage and follow Him.

Such words have carried me across these past 2 days, and now gird me with the courage to press onward not merely to reach Missoula but to gain the prize that is my hope, at the end of a good race. Out here in the vastness I think a man can find not himself and his own destiny, but rather his own pettiness and therefore his much needed humility. Let the charity and compassion of Christ by my boasting all the day long, and let me only learn of Him and how to serve His Kingdom, for He shall never lead me into temptation or sin, He shall never fail me nor forsake me, and He shall never ask that I do more than remember that the servant is not greater than his Lord, and if he by choice serves a Lord whose life is love then he is not greater than living out his faith through like love.

My deepest prayers and thanks be with each of you, those with whom I have hitherto spoken and those with whom I have not yet spoken. Thank you all for you love, your encouragement, and your blessings in all their forms. Today I press on to reach Missoula and begin the next chapter of my life with all optimism and confidence, but nonetheless to those of you who pray I remind you that I unabashedly covet your prayers and take heart knowing that our mutual intercessions forge an unbreakable bond.
Peace, matt