Archive for the ‘Hitchhiking’ Tag

Writings from the Road   4 comments

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Writings from the Road by Tim Shey.  132 pages.  Non-fiction.  Published in 2016.

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A Red-Letter Day

A Chinese Christian Gives Me a Ride   Leave a comment

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This morning I got a ride from Ashton, Idaho to West Yellowstone, Montana with a couple of guys.  I don’t remember the driver’s name, but he was originally from China.  He has lived in LA for the past ten years.  He was with his son.  He spoke some English, but sometimes it was hard to understand him at times.

He was a Christian.  I asked him who were the first Christian missionaries to China.  He said the Portuguese were; I thought the British were.

They were from southern China.  He said something very interesting:  he said that someone from Shang-hai would not be able to understand someone from Hong Kong.  The national language is Mandarin and there is also a Cantonese language that is spoken in China.

I told him about Watchman Nee and that Nee was a well-known Chinese Christian writer who died in prison in 1972.  He had never heard of Watchman Nee.  Maybe Nee is better known in North America; maybe the Communists tried to suppress Nee’s writings.  I told him that The Spiritual Man by Watchman Nee was a classic.

They dropped me off in West Yellowstone and we took some photos.  He said that his son would stay with him for a month and then go back to China.  It was a very edifying trip to West Yellowstone.

Watchman Nee

Posted July 13, 2016 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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Darby, Montana and Estherville, Iowa   8 comments

darby_mt

Last night I camped out in Hamilton, Montana.  This morning I walked a few miles south of Hamilton and then got a ride to Darby.  I got dropped off in Darby and walked to the gas station.  I was getting too warm, so I took off my long-sleaved shirt.

As I was repacking my backpack, this guy walked out of the gas station and walked over to me.  He asked me where I was going.  I told him that I was headed toward Salmon, Idaho.  He asked me where I was from originally and I told him from Iowa.  He said that he was from Spirit Lake; I told him I was from Algona.

His name was Garrett and he went to high school in Estherville, class of 1985.  I told Garrett that I went to Garrigan High School in Algona—I finished in 1978.  We played Estherville in football every year.

I then asked Garrett if he knew Agnes Hood; I had dated Agnes once during my senior year—she went to school in Estherville.  Garrett said that he knew Agnes.  He said he remembered there were three Hood sisters and they were very beautiful.  I replied, yes, they were very beautiful.  I then asked Garrett if he knew Brian Sawyer.  Garrett knew Brian and his brother.  Brian was a cousin of Agnes’.  I first met Agnes and Brian while playing in a pickup basketball game at the Hood residence the summer before my senior year.

I then told Garrett that I once got a ride from Nebraska to Estherville [in 2002] and got dropped off at around 10 o’clock at night.  I was walking down the main street of Estherville when I noticed this car drive past, swing into this parking lot and pull up right next to me on the sidewalk.  This guy stuck his head out of the window and asked, “Are you Tim Shey?”

I replied, “Yes, I am.”  I was a bit flabbergasted.

We started talking and he had picked me up hitchhiking in Humboldt a few months ago and drove me to Algona.  He told me to get in his car and we drove to his apartment in Estherville.

In his apartment, he opened his Bible to the Book of Ezekiel.  He showed me Ezekiel 21: 27:  “I will overturn, overturn, overturn, it: and it shall be no more, until he come whose right it is; and I will give it him.”  He told me that the Lord wanted him to show me that Scripture.  He later gave me a ride to Algona.

I spoke with Garrett for a little while and then he said, “It’s a small world.”

I said, “It sure is.”

We shook hands and I walked south on U.S. 93 towards Salmon.

estherville_ia

It’s a Small World
Blaise Pascal
A Sword is Sharpened

Posted May 1, 2016 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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A Ride in the Oregon Outback   11 comments

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Oregon Outback

Yesterday I walked several miles north of Lakeview, Oregon on U.S. 395.  I put my backpack down and stood on the side of the road for half an hour and this car pulled over to give me a ride.

The guy’s name was Jim and he had come from Whiskeytown, California that morning.  After a few minutes of talking, we found out that we were both Christians and had some good fellowship.

We talked about Oswald Chambers, Smith Wigglesworth and about this other guy who had a healing ministry.  As we talked, I thought that Jim looked vaguely familiar.

Jim told me that he was from South Dakota.  I asked him if he knew where Murdo, South Dakota was, as I have hitchhiked through there many times over the years.  He said that he lived near Murdo.

Then Jim told me that he had picked up this hitchhiker several years ago north of North Platte, Nebraska.  The hitchhiker told him that he had been hitchhiking for twelve years.  Jim took the hitchhiker home and let him stay overnight.  The next morning the hitchhiker told him that he didn’t sleep at all that night because the Presence of God had been so strong—and he wasn’t tired at all (I thought, that sounds like something I would have said).

Jim and I drove up the road past Valley Falls and to the Christmas Valley intersection.  We stopped to let his dog walk around a bit.  I then asked what Jim’s last name was.  He told me his last name and I told Jim that his name rung a bell.  When he told me that he went to a Bible college in Colorado for a short while, then I told him that Jim had picked me up before—maybe back in 2009 or 2010.  Later I told him that maybe he picked me up in 2007 or 2008.

I told Jim that when I left his house several years ago, I walked to I-90 and got a ride with this truck driver.  That truck driver had picked me up a few years before.  He drove us to Bridger, Montana where I stayed for one night with his wife and kids.  Small world—especially when you know that the Lord is in control.

Jim and I drove through Burns and then Ontario, Oregon.  We drove to Boise where he dropped me off at a truck stop on Federal Way.  I camped out a mile or so east of the truck stop that night.

So what is the significance of this post?  God’s perfect timing; God’s perfect will:  the Kingdom of Heaven.

It’s a Small World

Lemhi, Idaho   2 comments

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16 December 2015

It is great how the Lord orders our steps.  Last night I camped out on the east side of Salmon, Idaho.  It got down to 20 degrees F, but I stayed warm.  As I walked southeast out of Salmon, it started snowing.  There was more snow on the ground in Salmon than in Hamilton, Montana.

I got a ride with a guy who said that he was going all the way to Leadore.  Just beyond Lemhi, he changed his mind and let me off near this cattle ranch.  He turned his pickup around and drove back to his house.  Lemni is eighteen miles from Leadore.

I began walking towards Leadore and then I decided to walk back to the store at Lemhi and put on my long underwear because I was getting cold.  I walked into the store and met Bob, the postmaster, and he said that I could put on my long underwear in the back room.

A few minutes later, I met June who owned the store.  We had a great talk about hitchhiking and the will of God.  She was very interested in my two books.

I asked June if she knew a lady that lived in Salmon; her name was Lucille.  Lucille picked me up hitchhiking between Stanley and Challis, Idaho back in 2007.  We later had a prayer meeting and then I headed up into Montana.  In 2010, I saw Lucille again at the Four Square Church in Salmon and she remembered me.

I told June that I had a chapter in my second book entitled “Lucille” and that I would love to have Lucille read that chapter someday.  June said that she would try to look up Lucille and give her a photocopy of that chapter for her to read (it is also posted on my blog The Road).

I later learned in our conversation that I had met Bob a couple of years before.  I was staying with a family south of Salmon and Bob’s family invited the other family and myself over for supper.

I am writing this post at a gas station here in Sugar City, Idaho.  The lady that works here at the gas station told me that she and her ex-husband gave me a ride from St. Anthony to Ashton a couple of years ago.  She said that they told me that I had to ride in the back of the pickup because the cab was too crowded (she felt bad that I had to ride in the back of the pickup).  I told her that I have ridden in the back of all kinds of pickups over the years and that I appreciated the ride.

Idaho

Photo by June McKinney

Praying for Jessie   11 comments

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12 December 2015

Yesterday I walked eight miles from Belgrade to Manhattan, Montana on I-90.  I put my backpack down on the shoulder and waited a few minutes and this vehicle pulled over to give me a ride.  The driver’s name was Butch and he was from near Great Falls.  I told him that I was going to Missoula.

We stopped in Three Forks where Butch bought me a sandwich and something to drink.  He told me that he just flew back from Alaska.  He helped his son move from Montana to a new job in southeastern Alaska.  Butch also was a Christian and we had a great talk about the things of God as we traveled west.

When we drove into Missoula, Butch told me that things happen for a reason and that I was in his car for a reason.  He told me that he had a sister that lived south of Missoula who had cancer and was bedridden.  Her name was Jessie.  He said that maybe the Lord had him pick me up so that I could pray for her.  I agreed with him.

Previously I had told Butch that when I was living in Ames, Iowa (around 1990), that I had prayed for my roommate’s girlfriend, Vanessa.  Vanessa had gone to this doctor and she had to have surgery on her sinuses.  Before I prayed for Vanessa, I had told my roommate how my faith in Jesus Christ healed me of manic-depression back in 1986.  My roommate told Vanessa about this, so they wanted to talk to me about it.

I told Vanessa how I was healed and I asked her if she wanted me to lay hands on her and pray for her healing..  She said yes, so I laid my hands on her head, prayed in tongues and I could feel virtue go through my hands.  A few days later, I was at the lumber yard stocking some lumber up on the cat walk when I saw my roommate walking down the aisle of the building.  He had driven to the lumber yard to tell me that Vanessa had gone to the doctor and that there was nothing wrong with her sinuses—she was healed!  He held out his hand and reached up to me and we shook hands.  I said, “Praise the Lord!”, and went back to work.  I later told Vanessa that her faith had healed her.

Butch and I drove south of Missoula and we drove to his relative’s house where his sister, Jessie, was staying.  We walked into their house and we met Butch’s relatives.  Jessie was laying in bed in the living room.  It looked like she was in great pain.  Jessie told me that it was very difficult to breathe.

We talked for a little while and then I asked Jessie if I could put my hand on her shoulder and pray in tongues.  She agreed, so I began to pray.  I think I prayed for around five minutes; I could feel virtue go through my hands.  After we were done praying, Butch and myself and the rest of the family had some supper.

Butch then drove me to a gas station in Lolo where we talked for a short while.  We shook hands and I walked to my campsite down by the river.

Posted December 14, 2015 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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A Ride with a former Green Beret   4 comments

US Army Green Beret

28 November 2015

Yesterday I was walking north of Sugar City, Idaho on U.S. 20 when this pickup pulled over to give me a ride.  The guy’s name was Ted and he looked like he was in is late sixties or early seventies.  He was driving from Utah to Billings, Montana.  I told him that I was heading to Belgrade, Montana.

Ted spent 12 years in the Special Forces (Green Berets).  He did four tours in Vietnam.  Ted was from the Crow Reservation south of Billings.  He said that he was 15/16 Crow and 1/16 French.  I told Ted that I had hitchhiked across the Crow and Northern Cheyenne Reservations a number of times over the years.

Ted told me that, when he saw me, something hit him between the eyes and told him to pick me up.  We had a great talk all the way to Belgrade.

I told Ted that I was involved in intercession and spiritual warfare.  He told me that he had been working on a project on the Crow Reservation for 20 years to help the Crow Nation become more independent of federal welfare programs.  Ted has met with a lot of opposition.  I told him about the power of prayer and we talked much on the things of God.

We stopped at a gas station in Henry’s Lake, Idaho.  Ted bought me some biscuits and gravy and something to drink.  We then walked back to the pickup and he handed me a plate of Thanksgiving Dinner.  He told me that his friends in Utah prepared him a plate of dinner for him to eat on the road.  Ted knew it was for someone else.  As he drove through Utah, he saw this homeless guy (maybe in Salt Lake City) and offered him that plate of food.  The homeless guy told him that he had just eaten some dinner.  So Ted gave me the plate of food; I was very grateful.

Ted told me something interesting.  He said that is great grandfather was a Crow scout for Colonel George Custer.  His great grandfather had fought with Custer at the Battle of Little Big Horn.  His name was Gozerhead.  Ted said that the Sioux and Northern Cheyenne tribes were allied with the Blackfeet during the Indian Wars.  I told Ted that I have always enjoyed reading military history and that I worked for this guy on the Wind River Reservation in Wyoming–he was from the Arapaho tribe.  He told me that he had an uncle who did seven tours in Vietnam.

I love it when the Lord puts someone in your path and you have a lot in common with them.  When this happens, either you will say something that they were supposed to hear or else they will say something that you were supposed to hear.  It may be one word or one sentence and then the Lord engrafts it into your spirit and you grow stronger from it.  Some Christians call this a rhema* word.  You could also call it our Daily Bread.  Jesus is the Word of God and He is the Bread from Heaven.

Ted dropped me off just south of Belgrade and continued on to Billings.  I walked to the McDonald’s and got some tea to drink and sat down and read the Bible till it got dark.  I then walked to this junk pickup on the far side of town and hunkered down for the night.  It got down to minus three degrees Fahrenheit that night.  My two water bottles froze solid, my loaf of bread froze solid, the sandwich that Ted bought for me froze solid, but I did not freeze solid (actually, I stayed nice and warm that night).  It had been a very blessed day on the road.

*Rhema

Special Forces
The Art of War
At a Cafe in Merriman, Nebraska