Yesterday, Monty and I drove two-and-a-half hours to a doctor’s appointment. We were both so grateful to be out in the sunshine and fresh air that after the appointment, we decided not to go home right away. We drove to a town named Eaton, picked up some food, and decided to go on a picnic somewhere deserted so that we could be unmasked and unworried about social distancing and all things quarantine related. We headed east until we found a little dirt road next to a park where we could have our picnic. After we ate, we walked around a bit and noticed that the park had a sign marking the date when the town was settled—well over a hundred years ago. There are about two hundred people living there now, but we didn’t see a single soul. The only sound was birdsong and the breeze in the branches of the leafless trees.
We sat and soaked in the serenity, then drove on. We had no plan for where we were going; we just decided to go east towards home and see what we found along the way. We discovered three little towns this way—towns so small that the dirt roads we were on didn’t even register on the GPS. At one point, the Google Map on the screen in our Jeep said we were in the middle of a field. But along these dirt roads, next to wide stretches of open prairies, we found some old houses that looked like they were about to fall down. I looked at those houses and thought about the men and women who had built them so long ago. I thought about the persistent, hardworking pioneer spirit that had led those men and women to leave their homes and move west to settle in a completely unknown place—to eke out an existence amidst hardships like crop failures, catastrophic storms, and diseases like typhus and scarlet fever. I marveled at the strength of those homesteaders: they didn’t just build homes and plow and plant crops. They built communities. And in each of the three little towns we found, the communities were built around churches.
Unlike the homes, the churches are in good condition. They’ve been cared for and maintained by communities whose faith must often have been the only thing that kept them going. The churches show their age, but they’re still there. And they’re still holding services.
One of the churches we found was a simple white church with stained glass windows and a cross on the top of the steeple. I looked at that church and pictured men in simple homespun suits and women in stiff dresses and sunbonnets coming to worship together. I could almost hear them singing the hymns that are probably still sung there on Sunday mornings. And I marveled at the legacy they had left—a legacy of persistent faith in even the hardest of times. I was reminded of the song that my sister Heather sang at Monty’s and my wedding, almost twenty-four years ago. The song is called “Find Us Faithful,” by Steve Green:
“We’re pilgrims on the journey
Of the narrow road,
And those who’ve gone before us
Line the way.
Cheering on the faithful,
Encouraging the weary,
Their lives a stirring testament
To God’s sustaining grace.
O may all who come behind us
Find us faithful,
May the fire of our devotion
Light their way.
May the footprints that we leave
Lead them to believe,
And the lives we live
Inspire them to obey.
O may all who come behind us
Find us faithful.”
Click image to view photo slideshow.
The churches I saw yesterday were built by pilgrims on the journey of faith—faith in the face of exhaustion, fear, and hardship. I’m so grateful for that kind of faith—faith I’ve witnessed in the lives of my parents and my other spiritual heroes. It lights the way for others like me. It encourages. It reminds me to look up. And it keeps me going on my own journey.
I want that kind of faith. I want to be like the cross on the steeple of that beautiful old church, weathering storms and age yet still standing strong as I point people to God. I want people to hear my story and know that if God can use a recovering drug addict and alcoholic like me to carry His light, He can use anyone. One hundred years from now, my house may be ready to fall down like the houses I saw yesterday. But my prayer is that the church I’m building now with my words will still be standing as a marker for others to follow. Above all else, my prayer is to be found faithful.
“The master said, ‘Well done, my good and faithful servant. You have been faithful in handling this small amount, so now I will give you many more responsibilities. Let’s celebrate together!’”Matthew 25:23
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Comments 6
What a great way to decompress just take off and find a place kick back and let go of all the day to day stuff that’s on your mind, sort of like deep cleaning your mind and soul👍
Like you I get into history in i there so many abandoned farms and ghosts towns in Iowa you could check out. It’s almost like the walls were talking to you and you try to tell what did these folks go through in there lives, a lot more than we are.
Some of my wife’s family’s graves in are in a small church cemetery about fifty miles west of Des Moines, the little country church still has service’s once a month and the church is kept up but the cemetery is so interesting a real look at history head stones were the whole family almost all died at once, were the stones are so old you can’t read them and so many baby size stones, it was a different world not so long ago. Jean will spend some time there just relaxing and I like to look around, I found one stone that says “killed by Indians” and is dated 1844 that’s a year before Iowa became a stare, must have been some interesting times back then. We like it there just to relax. We all need a little recharge our batteries time now and then, we miss that time down here in Florida too crowed so many people.
When are son lived in Colorado Springs and I would drive out I always took interstate 80 to 70 to Bush and jumped onto highway 24 were you drove for miles with no traffic and no gas stations tell you hit Limon lots of old homes that were falling down were it look like people just up and left. Made you wonder what brought them there to start with. Florida doesn’t have a lot places we’re you just pull of the road and relax and get away from the crowds, we miss that. Because I am older than dirt I could write a lot more about history that I know about from stories my grand mother told me about living in sod houses in Nebraska and living in Karney Nebraska. Grandma on my dad’s side was born in 1882 and I was born in 1939 so I knew her real well she had a lot of stories to tell.
I like that you and Monty can get out decompress and relax, you have great places to go in your part of the country to do that.
Take care stay safe❤️
Grover
Grover–I’m sure Iowa must have many places like the ones I mentioned. We didn’t see any old cemeteries–I wish we had because like you, I find the gravestones so interesting. I know that route to Limon well; we’ve driven on it so many times. I wish now that I’d been looking closer at what we were driving through. It’s interesting you mention a sod house–Monty and I saw one on this little trip we took. I was fascinated by it because of the “Little House on the Prairie” books. I’m so glad you got to hear about history straight from your grandma–that’s such a gift. Thank you for your comment, dear Grover. ❤
A perfect day with the PERFECT person! Thank you for all the fun and wonderful adventures that I never would have had without you! I love you!
It was a perfect day–one of those I will always remember. Thanks for being willing to just drive us wherever, whenever. I love you. ❤
Sparrow, yourcvisit to East of Eaton, sounds wonderful. Relaxing.an impromptu picnic.Checking out all the Historical sites, markers, a great way to “absorb” God’s earth. I can totally relate to your activity.Debbie
and I will take “impromptu” day trips, picnicking.etc. I; This life, we all tend to “over plan things, events,etc.”But, sometimes an “Impromptu”, journey, is the most treasured, cherished. LoveD reading today’s Blog…..Keep Up yourexcellent writings,Sparrow…..❤️TexGen
TexGen–I think Monty and I will start doing more of these impromptu trips like you and Debbie do. Because you’re right–it was something I will always treasure. Thank you for your words and for always reading mine. I love hearing from you. ❤