Blog

Wait For Me Jesus

Tue, 2 Mar 2010 09:56:01 -0600

It was a snippet of memory, a musical phrase. I could hear the singular female voice over a simple guitar rhythm. Wait for me Jesus . . . all of my life I’ve been searching for you.” That was it. I didn’t know if I had the whole song or just part of it. I thought it was somewhere in my stack of reel to reel tapes. I played every one last year. Listened intently. Heard nothing. Who sang it, what the title was, or just when it was recorded was all mystery. Was I dreaming? Did this song exist? Was it something I made up? I searched the internet. Nothing. That was a year ago.

A few weeks ago the phrase came to me again. I just typed the phrase into the Google searchbox. A hit. An email bulletin board contained part of the lyric, but not the phrase “I’ve been searching for you.” All the info wasn’t there. The writer was running a kind of contest. Guess who wrote this song. A little more searching revealed the singer was probably Bonnie Letcher Casey from the west coast in the 70’s. Was she also part of a Christian folk group called Take Three? I couldn’t be sure. I remembered a single guitar and a solo voice. I found another website selling a CD of Take Three music, but there was no list of songs. I couldn’t be sure this song was part of it.

Then a few days later I tried another search. Bang. Somebody has posted the entire album on You Tube. Memory Recovered. I’ve posted the link on my web site - arcircuitrider.com (that’s 3’i’s in circuitrider) where you can listen to the whole song.

My search for a song reminds me of many a person’s search for God. You have some vague memory from childhood of God. The best place to find is in the pages of The Book. You may remember some small part. When you open The Book you find the whole song. He is who we have searching for our whole life. In him is all we need. Life. Love. Forgiveness. When we find him, the only thing we’ve lost is the time we spent chasing other dreams.

Oh, I expect the CD any day now.

Mammoth Orange Cafe

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 16:20:33 -0500

Sharon and I went on a ride this past Saturday. We had read about the Mammoth Orange Cafe and decided to make it a motorcycle ride. Traffic was slow crossing the Arkansas River on I-30 because crews were replacing lights.

To make the trip more interesting we took I-440, got off at Springer Blvd and took Hwy 365 to Redfield. It was hot, but riding at 40 and 50 mph gave us enough wind to keep from sweating. If you’re not looking for it you can miss the cafe. It’s at the interesection of 365 and Hwy 46. BLT’s and onion rings seemed to the perfect thing to eat. The novelty of the cafe is mostly on the outside. The inside is pretty plain, but clean. The staff was friendly and the service was good.

Someone had mentioned Tar Camp was a nice place and I have to agree. After our BLT’s we rode into Tar Camp which stretches along the west bank of the Arkansas River for a good half mile. The camp sites were spacious. Neither one of us were bothered with mosquitos, so that was good. We put it down as one of the places we need to bring our camper.

I guess the thing I enjoyed the most about the trip was the company. Just about any trip is more enjoyable in the company of friends. It’s nice when you can count your spouse on your friend list. Don’t you agree?

Our spiritual journey is also all the more enjoyable because of friends. One of the highest accolades Jesus gave the disciples was when he called them his friends. Christ does not ask us to walk the path of a Christian alone. We walk with others. They walk with us. We worship with friends. We pray with friends. We rejoice with friends. We learn with friends. We laugh with friends. We cry with friends. We sacrifice for friends. Friends make the journey better.

The Wall

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 09:53:58 -0600

Mitchell’s Meanderings . . .

“By my God I have leaped over a wall.” 2 Samuel 22:30

I want to tell you about the wall. I arrived at my motel in Orlando on Sunday evening, February 2. Unloaded all my gear and watched the 2nd half of the Super Bowl. Monday was the first day of the Kingdom Encounter Conference. The forecast called for rain. I decided I did not want to put on all riding gear to go the two miles to the conference site. Instead I looked at Google maps and saw a shorter walking route. It appeared from the map I would walk along streets until the very end. The only questionable object appeared to be a thick black line at the end of the last street. On the other side of the thick black line was an apartment complex. On the other side of the apartment complex was the office building housing Asbury Theological Seminary, the Conference site.
On Monday I put on my rainjacket, slung my brief case over my shoulder and proceeded to walk. It was about a 30 minute walk. Just as the weather had forecast, it started to drizzle. Heavy rain was called for throughtout the day. It would end by the time the last conference event concluded at 9:00 p.m. The temperature was mild, maybe mid 50’s, the warmest it would be the entire week. As I walked I could feel a bit of sweat on my back. As I approached the thick black line, I realized it was not what I thought it was. When I saw it on the satellite map, I thought the black line was a drainage ditch. The black line turned out to be the shadow of a 12 foot cement block wall. You could tell the spot where there used to be a gate through the wall. It was closed. At the end of the wall the line continued by an 8 foot chain link fence for about 100 yards and then edged along a thicket of brush. I seemed to have two options, climb over the fence or walk the extra mile.
I walked along the fence and looked for a spot to climb over, but couldn’t get a foot hold. On the way back at the junction of the chain link and cement wall I noticed an extra bar. I managed to get a toehold, balance myself at the top, let go with one hand to move my briefcase bag, grab with two hands again, and drop on the other side. I walked through the parking zones of the apartments and through the security gate at the front of the complex. Thankfully it was open and I went on to the conference.
And of course, I wondered something. I wonder if people perceive our church as a forbidden place behind walls and fences? How easy is it for someone to come in? Are there physical barriers? Just how welcome is our welcome sign? How determined does someone have to be to be a part of us? I’d like to think every ministry, every group, every class is a door into the church. Make the walls low and let them grow from the inside into the great expectations of God. But sometimes it’s up to you to leap over a wall, to overcome whatever obstacles are in the way of getting to God. Here’s to walls, those who leap over them, and those who knock them down so we don’t have to leap.

A new restaurant has opened on the corner of 18th and Pike. The Summons Family Restaurant has a full menu and friendly service. Last Saturday they were cooking up some fabulous ribs. Go in, order something. Tell ‘em Rev. Roadkill sent you.

Pedestal Rocks

Sat, 24 Jan 2009 15:49:14 -0600

Mitchell’s Meanderings . . .

Pedestal Rocks. Sounds interesting. 2.6 miles. Add the King’s Bluff Loop for a total of 4.3 miles. Sounds do-able. Just what I need for the 3rd leg my exercise regimen this week. Two visits with Dr. Treadmill, and one in another Amazing Arkansas Wonderspot. Take I-40 west, 7 north at Russellville. There are a few casualties along the way. Booger Hollow still boasts a population of seven plus one coon dog, but it’s closed. Mack’s Pines seems to be making a run to take over with a café and cabins. It’s still worth stopping at Hankins Country store at the Hwy 16 intersection. It’s closed, but there’s a wonderful diorama of Alum Cove Natural Bridge in a glass enclosed case under the front porch. Turn right from Hwy 7 onto Hwy 16 and go six miles. Look for the Pedestal Rocks sign.
The hike has no real steep sections. The pedestal features are spectacular. How do you describe these pedestals? They are columns of rock averaging about 50 feet in height. Some are separated from the bluff by a couple feet, making it look easy to step across. Others are an 8 foot jump. You wonder if somebody hasn’t tried. Some have anvil shaped tops. Others begin at a broad base and narrow toward the top. They’re all wonderful and leave you wondering at the forces of nature that made these rock features possible.
On the two hour drive back home I thought about how unique you and I are. We are each shaped by unique forces. The genetic contribution is one force. Our siblings are another. Even children in the same house are all different. How our parents rear us is another force. Church and school add something. Television and the internet add their part, too. Throughout our lives we are constantly being influenced. We are so different from one another. Yet those rock formations tell us something else also. They are all the same kind of rock just as we are all made out of the same stuff. We are body and soul. We relate to each other, to the earth, and to the God who made us. We want to know the world around us and we want to know the God who made us. Yet we are unique. It’s like the Psalmist said, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

Obama Inauguration

Wed, 21 Jan 2009 15:20:48 -0600

Mitchell’s Meanderings . . .

It’s not often you feel you are part of history. I think every person in the United States of America felt like they witnessed something historic yesterday. Here at Gardner we set up an LCD projector to a computer and watched the CNN coverage of the inauguration. It was like having a big screen TV. We watched the oath, mistakes included and then the internet connection messed up. We got only bits and pieces of the Inaugural Address. We lost some of the words, but got the flavor. The big message is the one we have heard over and over again. In America anything is possible if you set your mind to it.
We could say there are many words that define anything is possible. One such word is surely ‘yes’. ‘Yes’ opens new doors. ‘yes’ expands opportunity. ‘Yes’ is a step forward. ‘Yes’, it is possible for an Afrian-American to become president. ‘Yes’, it is possible for a woman to be a lawyer. But you can’t do it alone. Your ‘Yes’ needs the ‘Yes’ of someone else. ‘Yes’, come in. ‘Yes’, here’s a chance. ‘Yes’, I’ll try it. It needs a ‘yes’ on both ends. You have to say ‘yes’ to yourself and somebody, maybe a lot of somebodies, have to say ‘yes’ too. But it doesn’t stop at ‘yes’. It takes more than a ‘yes.’ You’ve got to work. You’ve got to try. You’ve got to prove yourself. You can have all the ‘yeses’ in the world sitting in your lap and do nothing with them.
In America, it’s take ‘yes’, but it takes work to go along with it. We know what that’s like as Christians. I love the verse in Paul’s 2nd letter to the Corinthians chapter 1, verse 20. “In Him (Jesus Christ) every one of God’s promises is a ‘yes’.” Jesus Christ is our ‘yes’. God says ‘yes’ to forgiveness. God says ‘yes’ to loving us. God says ‘yes’ to life. And added to the ‘yes’ is some work on our part. Paul told the Christians in the city of Philippi to “work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.” A better translation might be ‘put your salvation to work’. The president has taken an oath of office. Now he is going to put it work, or, he is going to give the presidency a workout. That’s what every president does. As a Christian you have been given a big ‘yes’ from God. You have been given the gift of salvation. What are you doing with it? How you answer that shows how you are working out your salvation.

Burns Park Scout Trails

Tue, 6 Jan 2009 11:27:00 -0600

The photos were taken Friday, January 2, 2009 on one of the Burns Park Scout Trails. This is the day following Thursday, January 1, 2009. I was determined to enjoy the 2nd more than I did the 1st. A friend invited me on a New Year's motorcycle ride. I haven't ridden this bike in the winter yet, so it was kind of guesswork how many layers I needed. best guess was socks, 2; leggings, 3 (long johns, jeans, leather chaps); torso, 4 (undershirt, long sleeve T shirt, electric jacket liner, leather jacket); head, 2 (full face helmet liner, helmet); hands, 2 (glove liners, winter riding gloves). My plan was to meet at Toad Suck Park in Conway at noon and ride with a group to Petit Jean for lunch. I started getting ready about 9:00 and was to leave at 9:30. I decided to do what motorcyclists love to do, make it a longer ride by going up 67/167 to Cabot and then Hwy 5 to Hwy 64 west to Conway. Starting temp was high 30's. Along about Sherwood, I could tell my plan was suspect. I could feel the warmth of the jacket, but it wasn't quite making up for the cold air on my thighs and hands. I stopped for a warmup at the Hwy 5 exit. I left the bike running to keep juice flowing through the electric cable still hooked to the jacket and stood for a few minutes. I stopped again near Vilonia. This time I went inside the gas station convenience store. I around for a good 10 minutes eyeing this and that thinking I would buy a candy bar. That's when I remembered I had no cash and did not want to put 2 bucks on my debit card. Warmed up again, I set out. Got on I-40 and went right past Dave Ward Road exit - on purpose. I decided I had enough. Got off at Mayflower and took the Old Conway Highway (365) back to North Little Rock and home. I peeled off my outer gear, went inside, drank hot liquids for four hours and kept on two sweatshirts, long johns, and sweat pants till supper when I finally started to warm up. Later I checked my route on Google maps and found I went 80 miles in those 2 and a half hours. Must have stopped longer than I thought. Saturday January 3rd high, a record, 77 degrees.
Friday, January 2 was better. It was still cold, low 40's when I left the house. My destination was different. My was different. Too many days missed over the holidays, too much chocolate, too much fruit cake (Puddin Hill is very good stuff), too much food, too much weight, too little exercise. Having family visit is great, but it sure messes up your routines. Not complaining, but it was to do something about it. I was going on a hike. I've been working my distance up. I've been wanting to try out some hikes in Tim Ernst's Arkansas Hiking Trails. He has maps and a turn by turn description of each trail. I didn't want to travel too far to find one of these trails. How about less than 2 miles? An 8.3 mile trail in Burns Park featured at least one SSS, Ernst's code for Special Scenic Spot. Now how should I dress. Since it was supposed to get up to the 50's I decided to go with jeans and two sweatshirts. I could peal one off if I generated enough heat on the hike.
I carried the trail guide book with me and ran into my first problem right away. The book had an 8.3 mile trail and a shorter 5 mile option by taking a shortcut back to the starting point. The book also said the trail was marked with blue blazes. What was in front of me was a large wooden sign with orange, blue, and green paint blazes. The colors matched the length of trail 2 mile, 3 mile, or 5 mile. There was a slight variation at the beginning, but Ernst's trail seemed to mostly follow the green blazes. There is one nice thing about winter hiking. You can see farther. Stripped branches open up vistas you can't see in the summer. As on any hike, you never know what you will discover. My first discovery came while working up a hill about 2 miles into the hike off Joe Pock road bordering the golf course. I heard a rustle of leaves ahead and to my right that multiplied by the number of deer. I stopped and looked. About a half dozen deer were parallel to my path less than a hundred yards away. Then all was quiet. I thought they had disappeared over the ridge, but no, when I trained my eye in the general direction I could spot them blending almost perfectly into leaves and tree trunks. I pulled out my cell phone and took a video of such poor quality that it I would later discover it revealed nothing in the shot except blurry leaves, trunks, and limbs. I was thrilled at my 10 a.m. discovery. Another awaited. Remember that SSS? It's worth the hike. The bluff overlooks White Oak Bayou, The River Trail, Burns Park Golf Course, the Arkansas River, Big Rock Mountain, and downtown Little Rock. Great View.
The world seems to be full of life lessons for us. I found a couple on my hike. There were several places the trail didn't match the description in the book. At one place I didn't read the guide book closely enough. This is an abbreviation, but it said to cross the road, follow the trail through the woods, and turn left onto the next road. I turned left on the first road. That got me messed up a little bit. I also decided to take the short cut trail back to the start. At one fork I took the orange blazes, thought I should be following green, so back tracked to find the red and green blazes. I walked down the slope to the base of a hill and got completely disoriented. I had to trace my steps back up hill and follow the orange blazes along the ridge to get back to the beginning. The Christian's guide is the Bible, but sometimes the trail we are on doesn't seem to match up with the book. The Bible doesn't have a rule for everything. It does have principles. We apply principles to life situations. A second lesson at work in the woods involved my reason for going. I was going for exercise because I needed it. What I discovered was something that thrilled me, natural beauty. How often are we inspired at church. I imagine it's the same behind the pulpit as in front of the pulpit. Some Sundays the preacher is not as inspiring, the choir doesn't sing as well, God seems to be absent, but some Sundays are completely different. Everything is ablaze with presence of God. How can you be sure you'll be there when God comes alive for you? Go every Sunday. Make it a habit. Anticipate. Then you'll be ready.

Backyard Rainbow

Sat, 3 Jan 2009 20:04:20 -0600

Two days after Christmas we had a houseful. Three daughters, three sons-in-law, 6 grandchildren, two grandparents. The backyard overlooking the valley drew the attention of grandchildren playing. We had lunch, exchanged gifts. The day was cloudy. The forecast called for rain. The radar showed it. A band stretching from Texas through Missouri crawling northwest. One daughter and grands crammed gifts and kids and all things kids into the van and blew off into the storm. The rest of us watched the rain. I looked out the window with Brandon and saw it. “Rainbow.” Everyone dutifully flocked to the patio door, and the two other windows, noses pasted against the glass. It began faint, then deepened. The sun poured down on Camp Robinson Road. Then a faint second rainbow. The spectacle continued for a good 15 minutes. We enjoyed the show and reminded ourselves again . . . No rain, no rainbow.

Hezekiah Syndrome

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 09:06:34 -0500

To Soar

Fri, 9 May 2008 18:21:42 -0500

The ride up Mt. Magazine is a gem for motorcyclists. The asphalt dives into the trees, hugs the sweeps around hollows, doubles back on itself, provides a view of the forest on both sides of the road, lets you peak at the Petit Jean River valley below and breaks into open sky after rounding a rocky cliff. There’s only one bad about it. It last 5 minutes, but when you get to the top . . . .
I have been going to Mt. Magazine since I first came to Arkansas. Most of my motorcycles have been there; the Virago, the Shadow ACE Tourer, and the ST1300. I usually go in the spring. High places in spring seem to have an attraction.
Winter is also a magical time to go to the highest point in Arkansas. The bare trees invite you to look right through and see what you cannot see in summer. One winter day in December 2006 was especially magical. It was the first time I tried to find the old paths at the site of the lodge. The WPA lodge burned in 1970. The remaining footprint occupied a football size field. The remains of a roughhewn granite patio and wall provided a viewing platform. I think they incorporated that feature in the new lodge built recently. I know it’s selfish, but this new lodge has ruined the mountain. I’ll get used to it, but it will take time.
On that winter day, I parked in the flawless new parking area and wondered if I could find the overhangs and cedars I remembered. The WPA stone stairs were landscaped away. I did manage to find the spots. When I looked between these two trees I could hear a rushing of wind as though something rough were cutting through the wind or the wind whipping through a narrow space.
That sound was the sound of hawks cutting through the wind, riding the thermals. They swooshed by just feet away from my perch, flew to the end of their invisible track, banked and came back, zoomed off to the right, back and forth. I stood there for quite a while and they kept coming. It was almost like I was soaring with those hawks.
The Arkansas Circuit Rider couldn’t help but think of a verse from the prophet Isaiah. “They shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be wearing. They shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31) Are there places or activities that make your spirit soar? On the mountain, flying with the hawks, makes my spirit soar, but it is not the only thing. Studying Scripture and discovering nuggets of truth hidden in the ancient languages of the Bible makes my spirit soar. Singing in the choir makes my spirit soar. Running makes my spirit soar, not running for fear, but fitness running. A motorcycle ride makes my spirit soar. “Downtown” makes my spirit soar. You get the idea. We all need something that makes our spirits soar.

The Call

Tue, 6 May 2008 20:08:46 -0500

Before Paul Bunyan’s son played in the
dirt with his ice cream scoop, the green
expanse on the map below was a hill. The road went
up, made a gradual left, and went down to the creek. You can’t tell it from this satellite view. The hill been changed to a giant storm water retainer. I rode a bicycle many a time up the front and down the backside of the hill. The Isosceles inspired triangles of apartments lined both sides of the street all the way to the creek. A wooden bridge spanned the creek. Cross the bridge turn left and go to the Reading Road shopping district. We played for hours by the creek, around the bridge, along the creekside woods.
The stream came from a huge underground culvert which seemed 15 feet high. Over the arch of the culvert a metal plaque bore the words “Proctor and Gamble.” Never figured out that mystery. No factory was even close to the culvert. We would look into that dark tunnel, but none of us were brave enough to go inside.
My brother I walked to church sometimes. it’s about 2 miles to Lock and Wyoming Streets where Lockland Church of the Nazarene probably still stands. We thought it was cool to take a shortcut to church. A road was under construction. On Sundays we passed through a landscape of dirt and mud. Earthmoving and construction machines were frozen in space and time as though the men disappeared in the middle of work. The huge holes left by the dozer tracks called for cautious walking by young boys. I still remember the smell of diesel and dirt, oil rainbows in puddles, and Sunday silence. It was probably my brother’s idea to take the shortcut. I was always afraid somebody would find us, and we would be in trouble. It never occurred to wonder what they would do if they caught us and answer “nothing.” Thousands of people travel that road today. It is the northbound lane of Interstate 75 show in the satellite view above.
The Church had a vaulted ceiling, dark wood paneling, and a balcony on all sides except the chancel of course. It was there in the church I received my call. Sitting in church Sunday after Sunday, I was drawn to the preacher. I was terribly afraid of the preacher. His gesticulations included forcefully pounding the pulpit with his fists to drive home eternal judgment for those who did not repent. Though his sermons were full of prophetic fire, I somehow felt in a deep part of me drawn to what was taking place there. I learned much later to identify this sense as a ‘call’. I didn’t really face it again until high school. During a career week I decided I wanted to be an architect. I went to a session where architects told us about what you needed to study to pursue this field. I was determined to make it my career goal. Over a period of days something kept bothering me about it. I had no peace in my spirit. I decided it was because I was fighting the ‘call’. My mother worked 2nd shift at the Motorola factory. Believe it or not we used to have factories in this country. My dad worked third shift. Since mom didn’t drive, dad would leave at 10:00, go pick up mom and bring her home and then go to work himself at 11:00. I remember the night I got up after dad left the house and sat in the chair in the living room to tell my mother my decision. She found me asleep. I mumbled something about God calling me to preach and went to bed.
There are times I still carry this call like some great burden that presses on my spirit. I feel sometimes like I didn’t have a choice. It’s like somebody else made the decision for me. I guess I resent that sometimes. But there are many times, it is a joy to know you are doing what you are supposed to be doing in life. “What should I do with my life?” is the one question I can answer. Each day I try my best to live out this Christian life as faithfully as I can, proclaim the gospel of Jesus Christ, serve the church I am assigned, and, hopefully, help others take hold of the eternal life God offers to us in Jesus Christ.

Acts 20:24 But I do not count my life of any value to myself, if only I may finish my course and
the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the good news of God's
grace.
Apostle Paul Farewell Sermon