LENT ON THE ROAD OF LIFE

In the beginning, the elohim created skies and earth.

       Welcome back. Let’s think about Lent.

        I remember when I experienced the spirit of Lent.  In 1982, I decided to burn off my exorbitant youthful energy by riding my bicycle from Chattanooga to San Francisco where Golden Gate Baptist Theological Seminary awaited me.  The plan was to survive with as little means as possible and know only God.

I plotted my route with an Atlas, sold everything I had, and said “good-bye” to my mother and brother where a state highway crossed into Alabama. 

I carried a sleeping bag, a tent, some clothes, and seventy-one books.  Sixty-six of those books were included in my Bible.

I slept under bridges, in parks, and in playgrounds.  Often, I met people who opened their homes and hearts to me after I told them I was a preacher pedaling to seminary. 

When I rode into Bonham, Texas the onset of reality weighed heavily upon me.  Money was low.  Existential gas was lower.  My legs hurt from swollen welts where friction caused by constant pedaling burned between skin and seat leather.  My planning had proved more impetuous than prudent. 

I considered staying in Bonham.  I could write to the seminary and postpone my first semester.  I decided to seek wisdom.

I biked to Bonham First Baptist.  I introduced myself to the youth pastor who happened to be there that day.  I told him who I was and where I was going. 

Without hesitation, he arranged for me to see a doctor who gave me some medication.  That night, I slept on the floor in the church fellowship hall. 

The youth pastor urged me to go to seminary on a bus rather than remain.  The church purchased my bus ticket and the packing boxes for my bicycle, my sleeping bag, my clothes, and five books.  I kept the other sixty-six books on my lap as the bus carried me through boundless Texas onward to San Francisco. 

I sent a letter of thanks to the church.  Eventually, I sent money for the bus ticket.  The youth pastor returned the money with a very kind letter that said he and the congregation were happy I had arrived safely. 

That adventure happened over thirty-five years ago.  I carry the memory with me always.  I seek to live its meaning to whomever I can. 

Thus, one summer in 1982, I fasted and experienced who our God of love is.

Blessings...