Friday, January 3, 2014

January 3 – “Painted Churches … the beginning”

We have arrived in Waco, safe and sound, after our travel adventure through some of the southeastern regions of this strange country they call Texas.  I thought it might be fun, and infinitely easier for me, to leave my array of notes in somewhat of their original form, to give you a window into the twisted realm of my thoughts.  Beware, for I know not what substance may spew forth.

Our plan at the beginning is to stop for lunch in Bay City.  They have an incredible restaurant there, called K2, that serves homestyle cooking of a wide variety of foods.  Good stuff.  Then we would head to Victoria to drop off a load of things Chris’ Mom had left in her will to Chris’ brothers.  Then we planned to head for the Schulenburg area to see some of the Painted Churches of Texas.  (You have to add “of Texas.”  When I googled just “painted churches,” it sent me to Hawaii).  Finally, we would move in the direction of Waco and see how close we could get before needing a place to crash.  Caleb’s birthday celebration was the long-term goal of this mission. 

Chris, of course, drove.  And I managed to stay awake almost to Hitchcock.  I think.  At least that’s the last I remember until I roused up enough for Chris to make a comment about a random trailer park somewhere on FM2004 before Lake Jackson.  Oh, and I remember the 18-wheeler that raced past us into oblivion.  No idea where that was. 

Lunch was great.  I had fried shrimp.  Chris had liver.  We both had fried green beans.  Well, she had fried green beans.  Not my favorite delicacy.  Oh, I tried a few.  Enough to make my Mommy proud of me for trying. 

Next we went by to check on Chris’ Dad.  This would be the Dad who adopted her when she was a tiny baby and who raised her.  She didn’t find out she was adopted until she was 30 years old, though.  But that’s another story.  Another book.  Or at least another season of a soap opera.  Chris and her brothers and sister have been trying for at least two years to convince her Dad to move to either Galveston or Victoria to be closer to his kids.  So far no luck.  But word had it that a move was afoot by the lady he lives with to have him put in a nursing home.  No particular medical reason.  Apparently she just reached a point where she couldn’t take care of him anymore.  Our assignment was to gather as much information as we could and report back to “headquarters” (the rest of the family).  We talked to them for at least an hour.  Chris started by talking to the lady.  I talked to her Dad and had a chance to make sure he was ready to die spiritually.  Then Chris went in to talk to her Dad.  I was kind of on a roll, I guess, so I talked to the lady about her spiritual condition.  She said, “Well, I guess I do need to spend some time with him again.  But I was a nun for fifteen years, so I figure I must have earned some points there.  And I think God had me taking care of Harold here.  That should count for something.”  I didn’t know about the whole nun thing, but I had a reply.  “It would count for something if God worked like that.  But he doesn’t.  You can never do enough stuff to get right with him.”  I explained some more about trust and relationship, and she grew very quiet and reserved.  I got the impression she had never heard Christianity explained in just that way.  She had no response at that point, but her response is not my responsibility.  That’s the Holy Spirit’s work.  He’s a lot better at it than I am.  I’ll keep praying for her.

Chris’ two brothers drove up from Victoria not long after that.  We were able to transfer our load of artifacts into their truck and forego our trip to Victoria.  That was good news, but it was already almost 3:00.  The adventure into the Realm of the Painted Churches seemed to be in jeopardy, however.  Would we have time to see any of them?  Would they still be open?  And not the least important consideration, where were they located, anyway?  To be continued …

Ephesians 2:8-10 says, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.  For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Father, continue to draw Pat to you so that she can understand your grace.  Amen.

 

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