Precipice

 

          Our church is on the precipice. The precipice between two pastors.

          “What’s going on, Peg?” you ask.

It is with a sad but hopeful heart that I tell you our pastor, Pastor Rick Thomas, is in declining health. 

He’s well loved by the members of our little country church and has instituted many programs and many opportunities for the members to learn more about the Bible, God, and Jesus. He has an impressive resume with teaching at the Moody Bible Institute as just one of his many accomplishments and he’s a fantastic Bible teacher. After the completion of a class, we were even given certificates! That made us feel special. This was the first class I attended in 2020.

During the COVID shutdown Pastor continued to teach, moving the weekly Bible studies to ZOOM and even adding an additional weeknight class.

The past few months have been extremely challenging for Pastor. It’s in his heart to continue to lead us, but his body has other ideas. When it became apparent that he could no longer perform his duties, Pastor knew he had to relinquish the reins. He made arrangements for a new pastor to come in and he would retire. That was to happen at the end of June, with the new pastor coming in August.

Pastor’s health took a turn for the worse. For a couple of Sundays Pastor was too weak to make the trip from the parsonage to the church and have energy enough to teach afterward, so it was decided he would stay home and teach over the phone, broadcasting it over the sound system. It was kinda weird just listening and not being able to see him.

Last Sunday Pastor was able to make it down to the church and as it so happened, it was his last Sunday with us.

A few months ago, when Pastor was feeling good, he bought a new camper van. It was his idea that he and Peanut, his little Chihuahua mix companion, would do a little traveling in his retirement and visit old friends and colleagues across the country.

When he accepted that he wouldn’t be able to do that, he asked if Jody and her husband Michael would take the van to his daughter and son-in-law in Michigan. I don’t know who made that decision, but it was felt he would get a better price for it there than he would here.

Jody agreed but Michael couldn’t go as he had other obligations.

“Why don’t you ask Peg?” Michael suggested.

“You could take road pictures,” Jody enticed when she invited me.

“How are we gonna get home?”

“Pastor will rent us a car.”

Everything was worked out and I agreed to be the co-pilot.

On the precipice of leaving, just the day before, a hinky or two got thrown in the mix. Pastor needed to go back to the hospital. He was given the choice of going back to the hospital here or going with us to Michigan and going in the hospital out there. He’s been under the care of our hospital and has little confidence in them, thus he decided to go to Grand Rapids and be close to his family.

The other hinky was Pastor’s van wasn’t licensed or insured. We’d take Jody and Michael’s truck and take Pastor, delivering him right to the hospital.

Our trip was an adventure to say the least. We hadn’t even gotten out of our county when we were stopped for construction.

And things didn’t improve after that. Stop and go behind a school bus… 

And more construction. In fact, we hit construction the whole way across to Michigan and the whole way back again. I didn’t take pictures at every construction site we hit but I did a few.

        The day started with light rain and lots of fog. It was overcast almost all the day long.

“That’s okay with me,” beautiful Jody said. “I won’t have to fight the sun in my eyes.”

“It’s good for me, too!” I declared. “I won’t have to fight the reflections on the windows!” 

“How is it you can take panoramic pictures?” J.D., one of my readers asked. “Do you have a setting on your camera or can you stich two pictures together?”

And the answer is neither of those things. I simply crop my picture and it looks panoramic. Most times when I do this it’s because there’s nothing to see in the parts I cut off. 

And for this blog in particular, you’re gonna see a lot of cropped photos because I took a lot of distant shots.

I didn’t take as many pictures on this trip as I could’ve. I feel like I missed some because these two old hens were doing a lot of cackling. And some I missed because Jody didn’t tell me in time! Yeah! It’s all Jody’s fault! Still in all, I took more than five hundred pictures. You’re gonna see what we saw. Construction sites, farms, trucks, graffiti, and most of it doesn’t need much commentary. You can do what Jody and I spent the miles doing. Making up our own stories.

          We made Pastor as comfortable as we could but I’m sure his bottom was getting sore.

“Can I help you at all?” I begged when he’d groan as he tried to move.

“Thank you but there’s only room for one back here.”

Pastor slept for most of the trip and was no trouble for us at all. He didn’t feel well and didn’t eat anything. He only had ice cubes to slake his thirst because he was worried about elimination.

It was a long trip for our poor Pastor. Heck! It was a long trip for us, too, but I bet it was ten times worse for him.

Our stops were minimal. We only stopped twice. The first stop was to get Pastor some ice. Jody and I took that opportunity to let our water down and refill our coffee cups. The second time we stopped was for gas. Neither of us was particularly hungry. We’d been munching on the oyster crackers and mints I brought along. But we thought we’d get a hot dog or something more substantial. Once inside the slum-bucket of a gas station, neither one of us had to use the facilities — and there were only packaged snacks to eat.

We wondered what this specialty rack was made to haul. Any ideas?

Pastor managed to get himself up into a sitting position an hour or so before we arrived at our destination.

I feel really, truly, deeply, bad that I’m responsible, as the navigator, for making the trip longer than was necessary.

          It was our newly updated GPS that I brought along.

          “I thought we were going to hit a toll road at some point,” Jody remarked.

          It was then that I realized I probably had it set to avoid toll roads.

          Aye-yi-yi.

          “Should I change it?” I asked, but at that point there was little use.

I like to Google stuff I see.

I wondered about the company with the red, white, and blue sculpture out front. I could guess the first name was Price but had a really hard time figuring out what the second name was — is. I guessed at some of the letters and even though I couldn’t make all of them conform to the name Mansfield, I thought it was close enough to get me there.

It wasn’t.

I zoomed in but blurry and run-together is still blurry and run-together when you enlarge it. I played with contrast and lighting and decided it didn’t start with an M but with an H. After that it was simple to find Price Heneveld. They’re lawyers.

Then we were there.

Pastor’s son-in-law Mike met us after we exited the highway. He left his truck in a parking lot, got in with us, and guided us to the adult emergency entrance. Ruth, Pastor’s daughter, had gone on ahead to start the admittance paperwork.

“This is a fabulous hospital and they have a really great pediatric unit,” Mike told us.

We pulled up in front and guys came out with a wheelchair and helped to transfer Pastor.

“Only two people are allowed in,” we were told.

We nodded that we understood. Ruth went in with her dad while Mike, Jody, and I took Mike back to where he left his truck and to transfer Pastor’s meager belongings.

“We’d already gotten most of his stuff out here when he was going to come out a year ago,” Mike said.

We followed Mike back to the parking garage of the hospital and once again were told only two people.

“You go on ahead and be with him,” tender-hearted Jody said. “We’ll come by and see him in the morning before we leave.”

“By then he’ll likely be in a room and the rules are different there,” Mike said.

“I really need to pee before we leave,” I said. I knew we were going to find our motel room when we left there, but I didn’t know if I could make it even fifteen more minutes. “We only made one pee stop the whole trip!” I explained why my need was so great.

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Mike said. I bet he’s had experience traveling with women before.

“It really is,” I agreed.

“I’ll show you where there’s a bathroom.”

We followed Mike out of the emergency entrance and around to the front.

Mike’s phone rang. He had to take it. He lowered the phone to his chin. “It’s right in there,” he said to us and pointed. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

          Jody and I no sooner got through the door when we hear, “Can I help you?”

          We walked over to the information desk.

          “Where are your restrooms?” I asked.

          “Do you have someone here?” she asked.

          “We just dropped him off at the emergency entrance,” Jody explained.

          “We’re not supposed to let you use the restrooms.”

          I was incredulous and on the precipice of an embarrassing incident. I implored her with my eyes. “We just drove twelve hours to get someone here and I really need to go.” I couldn’t believe they were denying us use of the restroom.

          She shrugged, put her hands up, shook her head, and said, “I’m not going to stop you.”

          I breathed a sigh of relief. “Where is it?”

          She turned and was walking away, but just barely above a whisper, out the corner of her mouth and over her shoulder, she muttered, “Down the hall.”

          I turned and looked and there were three halls! “Which one?” I asked.

          “I can’t help you,” she said and turned her back to us.

          I bet I scowled. “Fine.” I turned and started looking things over. The main hall was my best guess, then I started seeing signs.

“I’ll wait here for you,” Jody said. “Then she’ll know we’re not trying to get away with anything.”

My need was too great to argue. I took off and when I get to the door of the women’s room, there was a trash can holding the door open. I’m guessing maintenance was in there cleaning. I checked the men’s door and there wasn’t any trash can there. I’ll use the men’s if I have to. I thought. I pushed my way past the trash can and came face to face with the cleaning person.

“Please, please, can I go? I really need to pee.”

“Sure,” she said with no fuss at all. “I’ll just start in the other stall.”

But for the kindness of strangers.

I met Jody back at the entrance. “Do you need to go?” I asked.

“I can wait.”

I think I was a cup or two of coffee up on her.

Back in the truck, we put the address of the hotel in the GPS, then Jody started out of the parking garage. The GPS hadn’t connected with the satellites yet and Jody was driving on instinct. She knew the general direction we needed to go. We missed the ramp to the highway and ended up on a parallel surface street, which was cool because I got to see murals and I wouldn’t’ve seen them if we’d’ve been on the highway.

The GPS unerringly took us to the front door of our hotel. Jody checked us in and after the paperwork was done, the gal behind the desk pushed an envelope across the counter to us.

“Here you go,” was all she said.

“What room are we in?” Jody asked.

She pulled the envelope back, opened it up, and read the room number she’d just written inside.

“Where is it?” I asked. I really expected her to do what every other hotel I’ve ever been in do. Pull out a map and a highlighter and show us where our room was.

“Oh. Third floor.”

There was an impatient, bottle-flipping-while-he-waited man behind us. Maybe that was the reason she was anxious to get rid of us?

Jody and I walked away.

We moved the truck to the parking lot and came back in the front entrance, found the elevators, and the third floor.

“Which room was it again?” I asked Jody.

“Three-seventy-nine,” she said.

We walked a mile and made several turns before we found three-seventy-nine. Jody inserted the key-card but the door wouldn’t unlock. She turned the card and tried again. She tried it a third time pausing a few moments before pulling the card out. It still wouldn’t unlock.

“Try it faster,” I suggested.

She did.

It wouldn’t.

“Is it the right room?” I asked.

Jody consulted the inside of the envelope.

“Aye-yi-yi!” Jody said. “It’s three-sixty-nine.”

Back down the hall we went and found three-sixty-nine where we went through the whole routine with the key-card again. Fast, slow, flip the card, everything. We’d just get a blinking yellow light and the door remained stubbornly locked.

I know sometimes the cards don’t take the code right and you have to go back to the front desk and have it re-programed. But, “Let me see that card,” I said referring to the envelope.

Jody flipped it open and there it was staring right at us. “Three-sixty.”

Jody was on the precipice of exhaustion and I fault none of this SNAFU to her. Besides, I think sometimes numbers change on their own.

We found our room and looking out the window I see the truck way across the parking lot. “We probably could’ve parked closer.”

“That was the most unhelpful check-in person I’ve ever met,” Jody said.

We were both too tired to climb back in the truck and find something to eat and there were no menus for food delivery in our room, which had been our plan.

“They want us to eat in their restaurant,” the cynic in me said.

Nine o’clock at night found us in the scarcely populated hotel restaurant/bar. I ordered a hamburger because my Mike loves a good hamburger. When it came it looked like a pretty good hamburger.

“Let’s make him jealous,” I said, snapped a picture with my phone and sent it to him.

Although neither of us had eaten much all day long, neither one of us was especially hungry. I knew when I saw the size of my plate that I’d never be able to eat it all.

“I’d take it home to Bondi if I could,” I said, thinking I’d have to leave it.

“You can,” Jody said.

Then it dawned on me. There was a minifridge in our room. We took a good part of our food out with us.

          Jody fell asleep with the light on. She was reading from her Bible and I was reading on my Kindle Fire with my back to her. The words were getting so blurry I could hardly read but I was waiting for her to shut the light out. Finally, I rolled over and saw she was sleeping.

          Don’t laugh. “Are you asleep?” I asked waking her up.

          “I was,” she mumbled groggily.

          Out went the light and out went the both of us!

The next morning, we took our time getting around, thinking visiting hours probably wouldn’t start till nine or ten. It was nearly seven when we called and found out they started at six!

We went to the front desk to check out.

“You’re all set,” the man said accepting the key-cards.

“I’d like a receipt,” Jody said.

He printed her one.

On the precipice of walking away, I asked, “Do you have a comp breakfast?”

He did a quick evaluation then said, “Yeah. Let me get you a ticket.” From a drawer he pulled out two tickets and handed them to Jody. “This’ll get you a free breakfast at the restaurant.”

          We walked away.

“She didn’t tell us about this last night, did she?” cynical me was back.

Maybe she was instructed not to give out comp breakfasts unless asked, maybe she was a poor clerk, I don’t know.

Although they had a breakfast bar, it wasn’t serve yourself. We took a table and a very nice gentleman waited on us.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” we both answered.

I’ll tell you what! That coffee was so strong that even with two creams in it, it still looked like mud! Did it stop me from drinking it?

NO!

We chatted as we waited for our food. “I’ll probably have to take half of this home to Bondi, too,” I said.

Bondi’s food!

Jody and I both realized at the same time that I’d left Bondi’s food in the minifridge in our room. Before I could say a word, or even think a thought, Jody was gone.

When next I saw her, she had the carryout box.

Bacon, scrambled eggs, home fries, and toast. Some of all it went into the Bondi fund.

We went back to the hospital to say our good-byes to Pastor Rick.

Even as tired as Jody was the night before, she still found her way to the hospital and parking garage.

           We went to information and got the room number for Pastor. At the desk, they validated our parking, pulled out a map and highlighted the route to get us to Pastor’s ward.

Jody and I walked down a hall and found ourselves in front of the very same information desk where we were denied use of the restroom the night before. They didn’t stop us this time.

“Maybe it’s the visitor sticker that makes a difference,” Jody guessed.

This hospital has halls and halls lined with artwork. I was so busy gawking that I barely paid any attention to where we were going. I just gawked and followed Jody.

“Look at that!” I said and took a picture.

On the precipice of where we needed to be, we had to ask for help again.

“I’ll show you,” a very nice lady said. She left her cart and led us the final leg. “Just around the corner there and the lady in blue will help you,” she said pointing.

We thanked her and she went back to her job.

The lady in blue gave us Pastor’s room and bed number. “Just about halfway down the hall and on the right,” she said.

Pastor was surprised to see us. “I thought you’d be heading for home by now,” he said.

“We couldn’t leave without saying good-bye,” Jody said.

We visited with Pastor for fifteen or twenty minutes, then said our good-byes. We are hopeful that he’ll get the medical care he needs in this hospital, but in the very least, he’s close to family.

Back down the art lined walls of the hospital we go. “I saw one I’d like to take a picture of,” I told Jody.

“What was it?” she wanted to know.

“It was people in the rain with umbrellas. We should go right past it again.”

Little did I know we weren’t taking the same way out that we took in. I have no idea where we got off-track, but I knew when we were because I got to see that fabulous light from the bottom!

“It is so cool!” I told the gal at the information desk beside me.

“You should’ve seen it when the lights worked!” she said.

Two working gals passed us. NO! NO! NO! Not those kind of working gals! These gals were in scrubs and had ID tags, but if they were nurses or doctors or something else, I didn’t know.

We must’ve looked lost.

“Can I help you?” Vanisha offered.

 “I was looking for the picture of the people in the rain with umbrellas. Do you, by any chance, know where that is?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I think it might be over this way.”

We followed her down halls past artwork I’d not seen before.

“Chickens!” Jody said. “Miss Rosie would like that one!”

We were on the precipice of heading for home, and my stupid slow thinking that kept me from taking a picture when I first saw the picture, was now causing us to lose time. I felt guilty.

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s okay. Maybe I can find it online.”

We thanked Vanisha and she led us to the front entrance where she allowed me to take her picture.

Out on the sidewalk, heading for the parking garage, I say, “Grate!”

Jody turned to look at me.

“Is that a picture on there?” I asked.

She came back the few steps to where I was and looked. “I think so. I think that might be a river.”

Back to the parking garage, address imputed in the GPS, and we were on our way. Can you say, “Road pictures!”

“There’s a hawk,” Jody said. We’d been on the lookout for hawks, and hadn’t seen very many.

“Where?” I asked.

“There,” she pointed to the sky. “There’re other birds chasing it.”

Birds against skies, with my equipment, look like black spots, but I think you get the idea.

This guy hit a deer — in the middle of the day!

I can’t read this stuff while we’re driving down the road.

We saw triples on the toll road.

Yeah, I changed the settings on the GPS. 

A drive-in movie theater. There was a giant screen on each end with a concession stand in the center.

It looks like they’re gonna put a toll stop right in the middle of the road. 

We hadn’t gone far in Pennsylvania when we spy with our little eyes, a po-po on the wrong side of the road, facing us, with his lights flashing.

“Accident?” we guessed.

The traffic was backed up for miles!

We both got on our phones to see what we could find out. It was just construction.

Did you know that they’re trying to educate the public on the fastest way to get through a lane restriction?

“They want us to use the zipper method,” I told Jody.

Nonetheless, most drivers funneled to the one open lane. 

We spent an hour and a half getting through the few miles of this construction site.

Jody, my hunter-girl, noticed things I wouldn’t necessarily pay attention to. Sure, the turkeys I would, but often didn’t see them until she called them out. She also pointed out hunting blinds.

“Look at that one,” I said as we crept through the construction blockade. “It’s right on the precipice. Cliff.” My mind automatically went to the simple version of the word and my mouth said it without any thinking in between.

“I know what precipice means,” she said, but she didn’t say it like I’d insulted her. Whew! “Precipice,” she tried the word on her tongue and rolled it over in her head. “That would be a good name for your next letter blog.”

I’m thinking, one picture with one hunting blind on the precipice does not a title make. “I’ll have to find other ways to use precipice,” I said, and Jody helped me out.

“On the precipice of picking a lane, I always picked the wrong one,” she said.

“I’m like that in the grocery store. No matter which one I pick, it’ll be the slowest one.”

We had fun from them on using the word in various ways and it helped to pass the time.

Something else that also helped to pass the time is a game I play at night or sitting on the toilet. I pulled it up on my phone and passed it to Jody. It’s called Tile Master 3-D and I spend hours playing it every night. Jody got to play several rounds while we were stopped dead — D-E-D dead!

“I can see this being addictive,” Jody said.

“You get over it.” I think I only played twelve hundred rounds or so before it wore off on me.

“What’s the broom for?” Jody asked. “Cleaning off snow?”

“I think it’s to sweep out trailers. Let’s call Mike.”

There were lots of times that I called Mike to recount a truck driving story for Jody or ask a question and in this case, he confirmed what I thought. It is to sweep his trailer out but I suppose it could be used for snow, too!

“There’s an eagle,” Jody said.

That perked me up, let me tell you! “Where!”

“Over there. He’s got something and the other birds are chasing him. Do you think he stole one of their babies?”

“I don’t know. Either that or they're looking to steal his kill.”

“They’re burying the ends of the guard rails — guide rails,” I quickly corrected. This prevents it from spearing into your car if you hit the end of it.

“It is green, Jody!” I said as we crossed a high bridge. We were going the other way when Jody wondered if the one we were on was green, too.

“Is that the guy from Shark Tank?” I wondered aloud.

A Google search tells me it’s not. The guy on shark tank is spelled different, plus it wasn’t trucking that made him his fortune. It was IT companies.

We were on the precipice of dusk when I said, “Now’s the time we have to watch for d-e-e-r.” Yes, I spelled it. I didn’t want to jinx it by saying the word out loud.

Even so, we topped a rise on a curvy country road close to home and a deer was right in the middle of our lane. Jody hit the brakes and the deer crossed unharmed.

“I really appreciate the mommy seat belt,” I told her.

She chuckled. “Did I do that?”

“Yes, you did.” She loves me. 

I’m sure there are other stories I’m forgetting to tell you, and I know there were many missed pictures. But on the precipice of keeping you overlong, let’s call this one done.

Done!