Well, things were starting to come together surprisingly well, especially given the fact that I was operating in what seemed like unfamiliar territory. Some of what was happening made no sense to me when it was happening, other parts of what was happening left me in utter awe about how good God is. Welcome to the next daily installment of this true story, which you can find posted here each afternoon.
Chapter 19: T-Minus 48 Hours
It was now Friday, November 17. I was two days away from traveling, I had only four hymnals from my own collection, and my 200 flyers, but I definitely did not have the dozen I was supposed to get. God then did something pretty out of the ordinary for me.
He told me that I was going to go to a church called First Lutheran Tulare that night, a Friday night. For those who know Lutheran churches or any mainline Christian church, Friday night tends to be an odd time to visit a church, especially unannounced. Also, it was clearly communicated that I was supposed to go directly there and was not supposed to stop anywhere on the way. There was a clarity around this: “Do not delay.” As I got closer to Tulare, I started to get the feeling that I was missing the window of opportunity, that I had left too late.
I am not sure how to explain this feeling. It was an understanding that something was closing and that I was not going to make it in time. The closing was not sudden. The closing was over, perhaps, a 45-minute or even 60-minute period. It was increasingly closing. Also, it wasn’t an urgency to drive faster, as if someone were having a medical emergency in the backseat of the car. There was nothing like that. It was more of a feeling of preparation: be prepared to have missed the opportunity. There was a calm to it. From the time of the first feeling to the time of that last feeling, I had come to an understanding that something had been missed.
By the time I arrived at First Lutheran Tulare, it was 9 p.m. I got out of the car and walked around the building. No one was there. It made no sense to me that God had sent me there. I looked the church up online. They did not even have a working phone number. Maybe I might get someone to talk with me on a Sunday morning, but by then I would not be in Tulare, I would be on a train headed to Chicago. After a quick stroll around the building, and a tug at the various doors to see if any of them were open, I prayed for a few minutes and felt a sense of release, that I no longer needed to be there, at this place where I was focussed on getting to for the last 3 or 4 hours.
The next morning, we had our training. I met my fellow speakers at a local steakhouse, where they had sat down an hour or so earlier. We had a quick meal, and retreated to our rooms to get to bed. We needed to meet at 9:30 a.m. the next morning to be ready for our 10 a.m. training. I was going to be the first speaker.
I just didn't know what to make of what had transpired that night. Was God sending me on some kind of wild goose chase? Who knew if First Lutheran Tulare even had the kind of hymnal I was looking for? Why had He been so dogged in having me show up at this particular church?
Well, the next morning, God did something even more unusual in my relationship with Him.
Chapter 20: The Next Morning
Before I speak in front of an audience, I like to have a slow morning, and that was what I had planned for myself. I was going to fast and pray. I was going to show up early. I was going to greet people as they came in the door and take it easy. That was my general plan.
At the same time, I have acknowledged in my life that God gets to decide what my day looks like and that I will obediently obey as much as I am able to each day. I really mean this when I say that.
Few people in my life know that my day is structured through prayer time. What God tells me to do that day is what I do. I seldom use God as an excuse. I seldom mention these parts of my prayer life to anybody. If plans need to change, I take the blame for it. Generally, that works out quite well, especially since I pray over commitments before I make them.
So, while I had a general idea of how I expected my morning to look, I know that until my morning prayer takes place, literally anything may come from that day. Anything.
During my prayer time that morning, which probably took place after 5 a.m. and before 6 a.m., He told me to make sure that I made it to First Lutheran Tulare by 8 a.m. that morning.
“What?”
That meant I was going to spend that morning running all over Tulare, poking around a church that may or may not even be open still.
That was already what I did the night before.
That was not exactly everything God had planned for my morning.
That became clear when I went down to the car with my bags, and took a peek at the breakfast setup. It was Saturday morning and there was a bustling room of people getting their breakfast.
“Her,” God said.
“Her?” I asked.
“Yes.”
-Allan Stevo
This is a selection from my forthcoming book, “The Amtrak Vignettes.” A neat story began with the writing of “The Amtrak Vignettes” in October 2023. Every day until that story comes to an end, I intend to share a part of it here. It is a part of my faith journey as a Christian, a faith journey that has been deepened since the Ides of March 2020. Some of it gets pretty wild and nothing that a “reasonable” person would find himself in the midst of. Few will be scared off by it. Instead, many will grow deeper in their faith. I know that, because I know my readers well, and I know that few come here expecting me to give a milquetoast version of anything. Come here to be challenged. Stay here to have your life changed. That, I believe, is what will come of this work. You can support that work by signing up below.
The last assembly that I attended with any regularity was a charismatic assembly in Brownwood, Texas. The owners of the last radio station that I worked in were a deacon and a sunday school teacher in that assembly and they talked me into attending to operate a camera and video recording collecting sermons for the library that they were going to house in a new church being built next to the old one, with an audio/video balcony that I saw a potential for employment in. The pastor would usually greet people at the front of the church, but one sunday he decided to move by the back door. After I was done putting away the equipment, I proceeded to shake hands with him, when a vision of him molesting a young boy flashed in my head. I never went back, and after telling this story to the sunday school teacher, who had a degree in bible, he advised me that was the wisest choice unless I was committed to a spiritual battle.