To the "Outback"... and back.

Today, we boldly drove where no minivan has gone before!

We drove out to what I will hereafter refer to as the "Montana Outback":  Elmo, MT!  Checked out a 40 acre parcel that was... I don't even know how to describe it!  Remote.  Scarry.  That's it.

Anyway, having survived that ordeal without a flat tire (wonder of wonders / miracle of miracles), we had some crazy/slap-happy time in the car, courtesy of the Partridge Family, driving back over the same buuuuummpy gravel roads we braved earlier.  As we left the area, we came to 2 conclusions:

1. The desire we would ultimately have for a piece of property was inversely proportionate to the density of detail in the directions on how to arrive there; and
2. We believe the Lord has been leading us to a particular area in NW MT... So let's stay there!!

 So, almost immediately after we decided to live by conclusion #2, a quaint little spot popped up on Craigslist, so we went to check it out.  It was smack in the middle of our desired area, and after having viewed it briefly, every member of the family (including Little Nugget-Baby) gave it a resounding thumbs-up, and our eyes glazed over with dreams of the future.  Yet, we are really trying to not get emotionally attached to this one.  (Yeah, right.)

Keep praying for wisdom, and we'll keep you posted.

Woke up this mornin'...

...to a brisk 39 degrees, smack in the middle of August.

I love Montana in the Summer.

For the love of dogs

I've always been a "dog person".  Even for those long stretches when I haven't owned one (say, the last 27 years), I can still appreciate how loyal to and supportive of us humans they typically are.

But never more so than the last 10 days.  No sir.  You see, for the last week and a half, my life and the lives of my family have been significantly dependent on the stout hearts, attentive ears and watchful eyes of one shepherd-mix ("Selah") and one Great Pyrenees ("Buster").  While we sleep peacefully within the wafer-thin walls of our 12' x 16' Coleman tent in the middle of the Montana wilderness (but still thankfully within the front yard of their owners' house), Selah & Buster diligently take up the night watch.  The previous owners of our friends' house said that their dogs kept them from seeing even a single predator (and hardly even a deer) anywhere near the property for the entire 8 years they lived there.

So while thousands of little "rat-terriers" get strollered around metropolises wearing embarrassing little pink monogrammed sweaters, Selah and Buster are naked, proud and aware, earning their status as "Mountain Dogs" every single day.  So tonight -- and every night -- I'm saying a little prayer of gratitude for them...

...But I still sleep with my Glock.

;-)

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!

 Well, we have been in Kalispell for 1 week, as of today.  Looking around at the wonder of this countryside, and being saturated with the vibe and ethos of the local culture, I can't help but keep saying to myself, “Why didn't you do this sooner??”

The answer to that must be “It's all in the Lord's timing.”  It's best for me to just leave it at that.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night (after I've escorted one or two of the children to the bathroom), I feel compelled to focus my attention on the truth of God's word, lest I dive into a tailspin of “what if's”.  Like, “What if I can't produce an income?”, or “What if we can't find the land/living arrangements we so desire?”, and a hundred other such gremlins.  It has become an almost nightly ritual of prayer and resisting an aggressive spirit of worry and doubt.  But the Spirit of the Lord comes to my rescue, in the recesses of my mind, and I'm able to go back to sleep, as I dwell on this:

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.”  (Psalm 23:1-3a)

We have been intensely sharing time and space with our friends, the Tams (not their real names) since they arrived at the home they purchased from the Nez family, a couple of days after we showed up there.  The last four days have made us look like a couple pioneer families homesteading together.  I mean, no cell service, no landline phone, no paved driveway, no traffic noise, one bathroom for 13 people... For Pete's sake, even our internet service has been down for the last 48 hours!  By today's standards, most would consider this positively medieval.  For us and the Tams?  It's the whole reason we moved here.  This is how deep relationships are truly formed and solidified.  We talk together.  We cook together.  We explore together.  The kids spend so much time on the land and the trampoline that we wonder if they'll ever break for meals (they always do :-).  It feels more like Acts 2:44 than anything I've experienced in a long time.  I don't know how much longer we'll be imposing on the Tams by   “crashing their pad” and camping on their lawn.  (I do know they would lovingly deny that we are an imposition, I'm sure.)  Winter is coming, and by All Saints Day the ground will have frozen and the snow will be abundant, so I've been told.  So my humanity screams “get into a house of your own in the next 60 days, or you'll freeze or go crazy”  and “Get a job or you'll starve” or “Get a 4x4 or you'll crash on the black ice!”  See what I mean?  Just different forms of the “what if's”.  They're sanity-killers.  I mean, I either live like God will make good on His promises to care for me, or I won't.  I do believe that He loves me, and I'm choosing to prayerfully live one day at a time, and to not swallow concern beyond today.  Jesus ordered me not to.  It matters not that we are currently “houseless”: we are being well-cared-for, and we are a grateful family.

So, this Sunday will mark the first time we've had to go church-hunting in about 18 years.  It's a weird feeling.  I have the freedom to stay or go.  I don't have to attend because I'm on the staff, as I have been for the last 15 years.  We're praying that we find a fellowship that both encourages and admonishes, equally so.  Praying for a families we can minister to and be ministered by... praying for new and Christ-honoring friendships for our children.  If you've read this far, please take a moment and pray for us, that the process is a short one.

Verse

My heart is now unfolding into God's cupped hands
Though I cannot see beyond today
I'm trusting in His plans.
I need not man's accomplishments
To see me through each day:
But to acknowledge Him in all I do,
To just be still and stay.

The U-Haul is empty and our hearts are full

So many thoughts just buzzing around in my brain — as plentiful as the 'skeeters here, but not nearly as itchy!  Not sure where to start, so this will be a "stream-of-consciousness" post.  If you have any questions or comments about my ramblings, please post a comment... I'd love to hear from you!

We arrived at our "temporary home" deep in the woods near Kalispell.  Yes, there is internet, but no cell phone connection.  (We can only get that by driving 15 minutes into town.  I'm finding that being hard-to-reach has its benefits.)  We've had the amazing opportunity to meet and spend a few days with an incredible, Christ-honoring family with 9 children — the Nez family (NTRN*).  This is how selfless they were:  In the middle of their own zany-ness of having to pack up their stuff and move to Maine (to bring the gospel to the Amish there), they took half a day and helped us unload our very bloated U-Haul truck.  When we had such an overwhelming display of God's faithfulness in San Marcos, from our dear friends there who helped us pack and clean, we never imagined that the Lord would match His own kindness here by providing such amazing unpackers, here!  He is so good to us.

Our young'uns had the best time, making friends with them, before they vacated the house they sold to some friends we met long ago in SoCal.  Last night, we went with the Nez's to their friends' farm, where we had an amazing dinner.  All the meat, dairy and greens were grown on their land.  It was like a little piece of Heaven... and I've never had milk as good as that.  I must have had 5 glasses, at least.  Non-pasturized, non-homogenized, free-range, cream-top... and free (so-to-speal)!  Yum.  Our kids got a chance to try their hand at milking "Faith", the cow who survived being born in the snow.

So now, we are praying and asking/seeking/knocking for a homestead of our own.  Please join us in praying that the Lord's Name may be honored and glorified in all we do, and that He continues to turn our eyes upon Jesus... that the things of earth may grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace.


*("Not Their Real Names")

"Family in a Suitcase"

This is the third fourth time I've started this post, and every time, it's been a challenge to hold back from vomiting my fears and apprehensions about the future.  I will hold them back, and not give them voice, because

1. I don't think it would do anyone any good to broadcast them
2. I'm tired, and I know I get persnickity and curmudgeonly when I'm tired.
3. (most importantly) I believe Scripture teaches that complaining, fretting or anxious-ing (yes, I made that up) does not honor the Lord, and only starts a vicious cycle.

I'm always telling my kids about self-talk: "Be careful what you say about yourself — your heart is listening."  I guess it's time to drink my own medicine.

So instead, I'm going on a "gratitude binge."  I'm going to thank God for the following:

• I have my health, as does my family
• I didn't run out of gas before the little 2-pump station in Melrose, MT
• We have lots of friends and family members who are praying for us, and checking in on us
• We've logged over 1,100 miles of safe driving
• I (Ric) have a little family who loves me, values me highly, and follows me as I follow Christ
• I had a loaded firearm in my truck cab today, and it was legal and normal
• Last night's Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie was out of this world!
• Cassie is talking up a storm
• Sophia is swimming on her own, no floaties!
• The kids are enjoying Montana as much as we parents do.  I can see their dreams inflating often, and we talk about them regularly

Tomorrow, Deo volente, we arrive in Kalispell.

Today's Devotional

This reading made me giggle uncontrollably, because of how TRUE it is proving to be.

My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers

Driving Day #3, or "Po-CAT-el-lo"

Today, I had one of those unstoppable laughs.  It was the best kind of laugh, the kind that is formed at no one else's expense, just my own.  After that good laugh — and more than a few prayers — everything else just worked out fine.  Here's how it came about.

We were headed away from a stop-over in Bear Lake..

My dear wife (whose preferred two-way radio handle is "Granola Girl") and our son ("Bubba") and daughters # 2 & #4 (can't remember their handles) were in the family van, following daughter #1 ("Little Chief" or LC) and #3 ("Ladybug") and me ("Mountain Man") in the U-Haul.  We had made it about halfway to our next stop in West Yellowstone, MT, when the power steering on the U-Haul went bye-bye.  (No small deal on a 26' truck getting ready to hit a 6% downhill grade!)  Then all of the sudden, myriads of warning lights and beepers started going off on the dashboard: brake light, oil light, alternator light, Miller light.  I looked down at the temperature guage and it was solidly in the red.  So I did exactly what you would have done.

I screamed like a little girl.

No, seriously, I pulled over.

It turns out that the serpentine belt came off as a result of the AC compressor clutch-wheel-thingy going kaput.  (So that's why we hadn't had any AC for the last 400 miles?!  They don't call it "serpentine" for nothing!)  So, I tried calling U-Haul, to no avail (no service where I was standing).  Then from across the highway comes Doug the Cattle Trucker Guy (who hauls cattle for 1,100 miles from Idaho to Kansas every week).  He helps me assess the damage, and offers me his cell phone to call U-Haul.  Apparently the reception was good enough on the other side of the road.

Anyway, long story short, we had to stay in Pocatello (pronounced "Po-ca-TELLO-o") for the night while they fix the truck — with everything we own in it.  So, we grabbed 2 adjoining rooms at the Red Lion, went for a swim to de-compress for a little while, had pizza delivered to the room, and everyone is crashed while I write this between big yawns.  Now rewind to the "laughing" story...

When my Droid phone was GPS-ing the area, it pronounced Pocatello as "Po-CAT-el-lo", which made me laugh in spite of myself, and I couldn't stop for a long while.  Kind of like Dudley Moore's "Arthur": "Sometimes I just think funny things."

So, laughter does the heart good like a medicine, no?  What trials are you laughing your way through, knowing that God is in control?  Pray that we who trust in HIM can "laugh at the days to come" (Proverbs 31:25).

First Stop

We made it, safe and sound, to our first stop in Utah... at 4am (MST)!  Made a 30-point turn (coined by my dear wife) in order to park the rig.

Keep praying for our safety.