Good morning dear friends and family with greetings from here along the Western Slopes. It's the first of July and wow, when they say "time flies" they aren't a kidding! I love to go back and sometimes reread my posts from this blog, now in its fourth year of being. It was funny to notice a post from June of 2011 referred to by the name of "My Final Post". It was really supposed to be the last one made by me on a blog site that was originally "conceived" to chronicle my bucket list journey to ride the Bike Across Kansas in June of that year. Now, 3 years and 710 posts later, this blog continues mostly because I like to write about life.
I read through that post I made about the most memorable moment on the ride for me, one in which I had an encounter with a stranger who I thought could use some help. My help. The lesson I learned was one most humble and it has stayed with me until this very day. I am reposting it below if you would so care to read it. It meant the world for me to write it that day, never realizing that today in 2014 I would STILL be sharing of that story.
Mike and I met a stranger along the way back home to Kansas about 3 weeks ago and that unknown man, pushing a cart with the sign attached to the front saying "Fight Childhood Cancer, FTK" is now our friend. Norman Horn's determination and spirit of traversing the breadth of this great nation of ours all to promote awareness of the number one killer of children in this country, childhood cancer, has touched our hearts. We support this mission, done by one solitary man who step by step is making his way across the United States. Thank you to the many people, known and unknown to me, that have stepped in and said "We can put you up for the night. There's plenty of room at the supper table for one more here." With gratitude to all the folks who have said "We brought you water. We prayed for your safety tonight. May we offer you a snack or a bite of food? We will be glad to collect your mail here at our house for this part of the journey." And on and on and on.
There are many opportunities to be blessed in this life of ours. One person on a mission can inspire acts of extreme kindness in so many others. I've seen it happen time and time again, not only in Norman's instance but it countless others along the way. I love the human spirit. I love the human touch.
May your life this day be most blessed! And Norman, if you are reading this along the way today in south eastern Colorado....it's the "mother" in me young man as I admonish you to take care. A lot of good folks know you are out there and we are all pulling for you. See you along the way very soon our good friend.
This is Tuesday, the very first day of July 2014 and it's a great day to be walking across America and a great day to be alive in!
A Blog Post From June of 2011 (one that I thought would be my last) It's just like that idea of retiring...I can't seem to figure that out.
My final post
From the movie, "The Bucket List"....Carter Chandler's #2 item..... "to help a complete stranger for the good."
You know, I really should have a permanent indention on the side of my head for the number of times God has gotten my attention with the "whacking of a 2 by 4". You would think I'd be learning a little quicker, but obviously not! I believe I learned the most valuable lesson ever on Sunday morning, officially day #2 of the BAK as we prepared to leave from Scott City.
It was time to start packing up stuff and loading it onto the truck. All around me I noticed pairs of people, working together to get tents down and gear stowed away....husbands and wives, people with their "significant others", etc. And there I was, alone and having to take down my tent and pack up the "way too much stuff" that I had managed to bring along. Even though I had camped only yards away from where the truck was, I was still feeling pretty sorry for myself as I got things ready.
I turned from my campsite, one bag strapped to my back and the other in my left hand when all of a sudden, the first "whack" of the day happened. So close that I could see the wrinkles on his face, there was an old man who was loaded down with 4 huge bags of crushed up cans. He was struggling every step of the way, barely able to walk under the weight of those big bags of cans. In my shame, I said nothing but watched him as he moved on down to the corner and sat to rest. I picked up my junk without even thinking and climbed into the truck to stow it away. I remember telling one of the other cyclists there that I'd just received my morning "wake up call" from God, and he understood exactly what I meant.
Soon it was time to head to breakfast. We all were walking down to the high school, just a few blocks away. There would be plenty of food and all of us had plenty of money to buy it with. The old man was sitting on the corner resting about 2 blocks away and as I neared him, "whack number 2" came to me. I knew that I had to ask him if he needed help, some food, whatever it might be.
With a "sorry" heart, I am going to tell you right now that even though I believe in the idea of Carter Chandler's #2 bucket list item, I have "at times" been very selective of what type of stranger I will help. Oh, it's easy for Peggy Miller to help little old ladies and gentlemen who might be struggling with a package or trying to get a door open. I don't have any problem with "paying things forward" on the behalf of any stranger...never been an issue. But I have had a problem with the challenge of helping someone like the old man hauling the cans around. And I always ask myself, "WHY?" Is it because he's dirty, unshaven, disheveled in appearance? Am I afraid of him for some unknown reason? Have I forgotten that, I and all of the rest of us, are just one or two paychecks away from his "lot" in life.? What is holding me back?
So as I approached him, I gathered up my courage and said "good morning" and tried to introduce myself. I asked him if he was ok, was he hungry? Wow, talk about a bundle of nerves--I'd never done that before. To my surprise, the old man became very upset with me. He said he had food and he was FINE and without anything further, he picked up his cans and hauled them across the street to sit on the opposite side.
I was stunned for the moment. I thought, hey how did THAT just happen? I was prepared to go and get him some food and bring back. My eyes began to sting and just before a tear began to fall, I got "whack number 3". And the message came to me so loud and clear on that Sunday morning in Scott City, KS. and the message was this:
GOD DIDN'T SEND PEGGY MILLER TO HELP THE OLD MAN THAT DAY. INSTEAD, GOD HAD SENT THE OLD MAN TO HELP PEGGY MILLER.
The old man didn't need food or sustenance nearly as bad as I needed to learn that it was ok to talk to him and offer help. And the blessings of this life keep pouring down on me every single day. I believe that he may well have been an angel-sent for the very purpose of teaching me a much needed lesson. May you also be blessed this day my dear friends and family.
From the words of the angel Tess:
"God has a plan. He always does, but sometimes people forget and try to make their own imperfect plans. People can only see a little way down the road. But He can see the whole trip."
"Judging a man is easy. It's the compassion that is sometimes hard."
You know, I really should have a permanent indention on the side of my head for the number of times God has gotten my attention with the "whacking of a 2 by 4". You would think I'd be learning a little quicker, but obviously not! I believe I learned the most valuable lesson ever on Sunday morning, officially day #2 of the BAK as we prepared to leave from Scott City.
It was time to start packing up stuff and loading it onto the truck. All around me I noticed pairs of people, working together to get tents down and gear stowed away....husbands and wives, people with their "significant others", etc. And there I was, alone and having to take down my tent and pack up the "way too much stuff" that I had managed to bring along. Even though I had camped only yards away from where the truck was, I was still feeling pretty sorry for myself as I got things ready.
I turned from my campsite, one bag strapped to my back and the other in my left hand when all of a sudden, the first "whack" of the day happened. So close that I could see the wrinkles on his face, there was an old man who was loaded down with 4 huge bags of crushed up cans. He was struggling every step of the way, barely able to walk under the weight of those big bags of cans. In my shame, I said nothing but watched him as he moved on down to the corner and sat to rest. I picked up my junk without even thinking and climbed into the truck to stow it away. I remember telling one of the other cyclists there that I'd just received my morning "wake up call" from God, and he understood exactly what I meant.
Soon it was time to head to breakfast. We all were walking down to the high school, just a few blocks away. There would be plenty of food and all of us had plenty of money to buy it with. The old man was sitting on the corner resting about 2 blocks away and as I neared him, "whack number 2" came to me. I knew that I had to ask him if he needed help, some food, whatever it might be.
With a "sorry" heart, I am going to tell you right now that even though I believe in the idea of Carter Chandler's #2 bucket list item, I have "at times" been very selective of what type of stranger I will help. Oh, it's easy for Peggy Miller to help little old ladies and gentlemen who might be struggling with a package or trying to get a door open. I don't have any problem with "paying things forward" on the behalf of any stranger...never been an issue. But I have had a problem with the challenge of helping someone like the old man hauling the cans around. And I always ask myself, "WHY?" Is it because he's dirty, unshaven, disheveled in appearance? Am I afraid of him for some unknown reason? Have I forgotten that, I and all of the rest of us, are just one or two paychecks away from his "lot" in life.? What is holding me back?
So as I approached him, I gathered up my courage and said "good morning" and tried to introduce myself. I asked him if he was ok, was he hungry? Wow, talk about a bundle of nerves--I'd never done that before. To my surprise, the old man became very upset with me. He said he had food and he was FINE and without anything further, he picked up his cans and hauled them across the street to sit on the opposite side.
I was stunned for the moment. I thought, hey how did THAT just happen? I was prepared to go and get him some food and bring back. My eyes began to sting and just before a tear began to fall, I got "whack number 3". And the message came to me so loud and clear on that Sunday morning in Scott City, KS. and the message was this:
GOD DIDN'T SEND PEGGY MILLER TO HELP THE OLD MAN THAT DAY. INSTEAD, GOD HAD SENT THE OLD MAN TO HELP PEGGY MILLER.
The old man didn't need food or sustenance nearly as bad as I needed to learn that it was ok to talk to him and offer help. And the blessings of this life keep pouring down on me every single day. I believe that he may well have been an angel-sent for the very purpose of teaching me a much needed lesson. May you also be blessed this day my dear friends and family.
From the words of the angel Tess:
"God has a plan. He always does, but sometimes people forget and try to make their own imperfect plans. People can only see a little way down the road. But He can see the whole trip."
"Judging a man is easy. It's the compassion that is sometimes hard."
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