(Please make sure to read my previous blog,
The Life of a Trucker Man, in order to read the first part of this story.)
After he got his cup of coffee, this time he came and sat down directly across from me.
Without hesitation, he started right in. “You know, I grew up in a Catholic family. But, I was always curious what the other denominations held. Against my mom’s wishes, I would just walk into other churches. I would walk in the front door and walk out the back. Baptist’s from down south are very different from Baptists up north. Methodists are not the same all over. I’ve been to a few Lutheran services.” Once again changing the subject, he inquires, “So, where are you all going on your trip?”
I kind of laughed to myself – for no other reason than the randomness of this conversation. I began to tell him: Mexico, Nicaragua, probably Lima and the surrounding highlands in Peru…
The word ‘highlands’ stuck gold in his memory bank and we were off for another adventure! “I used to herd cattle in the highlands of Colorado and Wyoming. Sometimes we would herd a couple hundred at one time.” “How did you learn to do that?” I ask. “Well, I went to college in Western Nebraska, and a lot of times I would go home with a few of my buddies to their cattle ranches. We would rope cows, repair fences…I even taught country dance for a while,” he chuckled.
After a brief pause, he continues on in a bit more serious tone. “I always tried to do something different. Most people are too scared to venture out of their backyard. They don’t like to face the hills. Me, I always like to see what’s over the next hill…” I was beginning to feel like I was sitting across from an open book. What a wealth of information. He had experienced a lot, seen a lot and lived a lot. And had a lot of time to think.
“You don’t need to go abroad to do ministry,” he says looking at me. “There are plenty of bums in America and we need to take care of them too.” While he is talking, I am thinking to myself, I totally agree with you, but I wanted to hear the rest of his story before I said anything. “There’s a lot that is swept under the carpet in our country. I’ve been in a sweat shop in Chicago. I needed to pick up my cargo. Little Spanish kids where everywhere and I know they get paid next to nothing. Drugs and alcohol run rampant on reservations. Small towns have no industry. There is nothing left for people to do so they move to big cities. But then, big cities have their own problems and you don’t want to find yourself outside after dark.” He continues on in the same breath, “I don’t like politics, but there is a lot that needs to be done in our country. But, unfortunately, as a person who does not hold much influence, it’s pretty difficult to make a wave…”
We actually stayed on this topic for awhile sharing about our own life experiences dealing with the many disparities that face this country. I told him about Latreia (Please check out http://www.latreia.org/ to learn more and read a travel blog that addresses these very real issues.) and how some of my friends and I took a year to travel and volunteer in each of the continental United States. “Being from a small town in Iowa, I grew up pretty sheltered from a lot of things. Not that this is good or bad, it’s just the way it was,” I remarked. “But man, were my eyes opened to a lot of things that ‘are swept under the carpet’ right here in the US!” I continue on, “I have always had a heart for the nations and the poor in developing countries around the world, but I knew that before I could begin to identify with the challenges that other countries face, I first needed to gain a better understanding of my own country. And I agree with you, one does not need to go abroad to do ministry. It is sorely needed right here in the US, and even more so, right here in our own backyard.”
Once again, my coffee was cold. Refill time.
(Please read my next blog,
The Trucker Man Trilogy comes to an End to catch the rest of this story.)
