This year, I'm looking forward to the 29th of January for yet another reason. The annual registration for the "2013 Bike Across Kansas" event opens up that day and I intend to be as close to the first one who registers as I can possibly be. My last attempt at riding the BAK was in the summer of 2011 when I successfully pedalled my bike half way across the state, from the Kansas-Colorado border at Tribune to west of McPherson, just inside the Rice County line. What originally had been planned by me as a nearly 500 mile journey was cut short at the halfway point, after about 237 miles ridden, due to some problems I encountered with dehydration and heat stroke on day #5 of the event. After I broke my arm cycling about two months after coming off the trail, I nearly gave up the thought of ever riding my bike again, let alone going on the BAK in the future. But enough time has passed by and now I'm trying my best to get back on my bike and train enough to try it once again this coming June. "Old lefty" is hanging in there and doing its part and although my nearly 10 months of relative inactivity has taken its toll, I believe that I can make it the entire 500 or so miles this time. Crazy I may be, but I still have faith :)
I was looking back at my original posts of this blog, dated May and June of 2011. As many of you know, this "bucket list" blog originally began as "Peggys BAK Journey of 2011". It never was intended by me to take this any further than the journey across Kansas by bicycle that June. But as I prepared what was to be my very last posting EVER, I got an email from my niece Brandy in Texas, asking me to consider writing and telling people more about my bucket list quest. And about 425 postings later, well I guess here I am. I remember so very well, the impetus for writing what I thought would be the "last" thing I ever wrote before I closed this blog site down. Looking back now, I am sure of two things~I'm glad that I wrote the "last" one and even more glad that it ended up NOT being the final one. The blog entry of June 8th, 2011 follows below~I learned a whole lot of lessons on the journey to "find myself" that summer. Here's one lesson I'll never forget~ Thanks for reading, have a great sleep this night, and thank you for caring about what happens to me in this life. I'm beholden to you all.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
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."
"A coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous."
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."
"A coincidence is when God chooses to remain anonymous."
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