Archive for the ‘Hitchhiking’ Tag

A Red-Letter Day   8 comments

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Nobel Prize

Today is a red-letter day in my life.  Earlier this afternoon, I was thumbing for a ride just outside of Wilson, Wyoming when this SUV pulled over onto the shoulder.  The lady’s name was Ellen Lederman and we had a great talk all the way over Teton Pass to Victor, Idaho.

Ellen told me that her husband was a Nobel Prize winner in physics.  I told her that I had never met a Nobel Prize winner before and that I had never met the wife of a Nobel Prize winner before.  She said that her husband was Leon Lederman and that he won the Nobel Prize in 1988.  She said that Leon also wrote five books.  One of the books was entitled The God Particle; I told her that I had heard of this book.

We then started talking about John Nash and the film A Beautiful Mind.  I told her that I thought it was a very good film.  I had also read twenty pages of the book A Beautiful Mind by Sylvia Nasar.  Ellen mentioned that she and her husband once had dinner with John Nash.

I told Ellen that I had an English professor at Iowa State University who later won a Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 1992 (Jane Smiley, A Thousand Acres).  Ellen said that she thought Iowa State was a very good school and that the state of Iowa was very beautiful:  rolling prairie and clean and tidy farms that dotted the country side.

Ellen drove me to Victor and dropped me off at the laundromat so that I could wash a load of clothes.  After the laundromat, I went to the library and read a couple of important emails that I had received from a publishing company in Maryland.  These emails were about a manuscript (Writings from the Road) that I had been working on since the summer.

Wikipedia–Leon Lederman
Never the Same–Michelle Krubeck
Blaise Pascal
Prophets and Quantum Physicists
Time, Timelessness and Jesus Christ
Dimensions 1–Heavenly Coordinates

“The first gulp from the glass of natural sciences will turn you into an atheist, but at the bottom of the glass God is waiting for you.”

–Werner Heisenberg (Father of Quantum Physics; awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics, 1932)

A Vision about George Washington and America   3 comments

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[4 July 2015]

Earlier today I got a ride from Lewiston to Grangeville, Idaho.  I walked out of Grangeville about a half mile and this car pulled over to give me a ride.  It was an older couple.  They knew some friends of mine that lived in the Kooskia neighborhood.  They said that they could drop me off at my friends’ place.

As we were driving down the road, the husband told me about a vision that an ex-Muslim had from the Lord.  He had been a dyed-in-the-wool Muslim for a number of years and then he surrendered his life to Jesus Christ.  He had been in hiding because he had a lot of death threats from his Muslim family.

Here is the ex-Muslim’s vision:

He saw the Lord in all of His glory.  Then he saw George Washington kneeling before the Lord.  George Washington was pleading with the Lord and said, “Please don’t let the wicked take over my country [the United States].”

The Lord replied, “I will not let the wicked [unrepentant abortionists, homosexuals, earth worshippers, etc] take over your country, but I will have to destroy it first.”

Romans 1: 24-28:  “Wherefore God also gave them up to uncleanness through the lusts of their own hearts, to dishonour their own bodies between themselves:  Who changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more than the Creator, who is blessed for ever. Amen.   For this cause God gave them up unto vile affections: for even their women did change the natural use into that which is against nature:   And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompence of their error which was meet.   And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a reprobate mind, to do those things which are not convenient.” 

God Will Draw the Wicked into Cities Marked for Destruction
The Bullet Proof President
Vladimir Putin on Barack Obama
National Abortion and the Great Awakening
When I Came to Destroy the City
The Killer Angels
We Serve a God Who Answers by Fire
The Forsaken Roots Of Our Country
Sodom and Then Some
George Washington’s Prophecy of the Coming Invasion of America
Brian’s Dream about the United States and Africa

Dubois to Lander, Wyoming   Leave a comment

This is from the blog easthackney:

First off, I want to apologize for my recent opining with regards to Montana and Wyoming. I had lots of time during today’s ride to try and understand what happened to me. Looking back over the last two months I realize that California, Oregon, and Idaho were ideal: perfect weather, beautiful scenery, outstanding riding conditions. And then everything changed. The weather turned cold, rainy, or snowy. Hills became much steeper and longer. Scenery became isolated and dreary. I guess I had not anticipated this and was unprepared. Each day became full of worries. How steep? How high? Will it snow? Will there be services? Will there be bears? And this worry seriously colored my outlook. This ride has been incredible – both the good and the bad. I’ll try to temper my complaining over the bad. That said, today’s ride was the first sunny day in probably three weeks, and it was spectacular. I’ve got photos to prove it.

The ride begins in Dubois and will take 76 miles to reach Landers, so it will be a long day. It feels good to do away with the heavy layers, ski gloves and balaclava. And it’s so nice to be out of the snow.

The first thing I notice are the red rock formations, and how incredibly expansive this land is. I feel so miniscule.

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These pix can’t possibly capture the grandeur of the landscape:

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Look how wide open it is:

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In every direction I look, I can see for at least a hundred miles – and no condos:

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At some points I feel a little uneasy, realizing how insignificant I am on my puny bike in this immense expanse. It’s a little like The Twilight Zone.

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I feel like the only living creature on the planet. There aren’t even any cars!

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Well I think you get the idea. I did run into the first transam riders I’ve seen riding east to west – two guys younger than my daughter Jade. We chatted about what our different experiences have been so far. I felt it incumbent to warn them about bears, service closures, and the frigid snow. They told me Colorado is fantastic. When we said goodbye, they referred to  me as “sir”. I like that – Sir Hackney. Rather Royal.

I ran into a hitchiker just outside Dubois, Tim Shea [Shey]. He’s probably in his early fifties and had a 75 pound backpack. It just seemed unusual to see a hitchiker out here – there aren’t even any cars! And towns, if you can call them that, are 40 miles apart. Well, Tim and I ended up leapfrogging each other all the way to Landry. He’d get a ride for 10-20 miles, then be standing roadside while I catch up and pass him. Nice guy though. A Christian, and been hitchiking for 18 years. Go figure.

There’s a lot of Indian reservations out here, Crowheart for one. I heard there was a big battle between two tribes a long time ago. I saw some young men on horseback herding cattle like in the movies. I wanted to take a photo but felt that might be inappropriate. Sorry. Just a few more photos before Landry.

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About 5 miles out of Landry, large black threatening clouds are forming on my right. Then comes the thunder. I’m pretty much gassed but I push hard to get into town before it lets loose. I make it just in time, check in to a rustic Wyoming motel, and enjoy a NY steak dinner.

On The Way To Rawlins, Wy 5/23

Posted May 26, 2015 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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Three Dollars in Whitehall, Montana   15 comments

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About a week ago I hitchhiked from West Yellowstone to Belgrade, Montana.  From Belgrade I started walking west on I-90.  I walked a mile or two and these two young guys picked me up and dropped me off in Whitehall.

I tried thumbing west on the interstate, but the Lord told me to shut it down for the day.  So I walked into Whitehall and spent the rest of the day at the library.

Whenever I go to the library, I check my two blogs and/or any emails.  I usually spend the rest of my time reading other blogs—mostly Christian blogs.

I stayed there at the library in Whitehall till after 7 PM.  I then walked to this convenience store across the street from the railroad tracks.  I left my backpack outside and walked inside to get a cup of coffee.

I was now down to my last six bucks, a half a loaf of bread and a can of soup.  A small number of customers came and went from the convenience store as I slowly sipped on my coffee.

I really don’t care for coffee, but in the winter time, a hot cup of joe warms up the bones.  I usually put a lot of cream and sugar in my coffee for the extra calories.  I would much rather drink hot tea, if it is available.  I noticed on the weather forecast that it might get down to 18 degrees F, so that was my ulterior motive for buying a 24 ounce cup of coffee.

After I finished my coffee, I walked outside to my backpack.  I saw what looked like two dollars stuffed into one of my straps on the top of my pack.  I was pleasantly surprised.  I walked back into the convenience store and told the lady at the cash register about the two bucks that I found on top of my pack.  She smiled and I bought some hot popcorn for a dollar.  On closer examination, I noticed that it was three dollars that someone had given me.  I was very grateful.

After I finished my popcorn, I walked back outside, lifted my backpack onto my shoulders and walked a couple of blocks to the east.  I then crossed the railroad tracks and towards the rodeo grounds.  I found a machine shed on the outskirts of town.  Someone had obviously kept some cattle or horses in that shed:  I found a little stall with some hay on the ground.  I shook and scattered the hay on the ground (for insulation), unrolled my two sleeping bags on top of the hay, crawled inside my bags and eventually fell asleep.  It was a cozy and warm place to sleep for the night.

The next morning, I had a few pieces of bread and a can of cold soup.  I then headed to the convenience store and bought a small cup of coffee.

I then walked back to I-90 where I stood on the side of the road for maybe half an hour.

I started to get cold, so I started walking west.  I walked for around two miles and this tractor-trailer pulled over.  I ran up to the cab and opened the door.  The truck driver grabbed my backpack and I climbed up into the cab.

This guy’s name was Walentin and he was originally from Russia.  He spoke some English.  I told him that I was a Christian; he said that he was also a Christian and that he went to a Pentecostal church in the state of Washington.

We didn’t talk a whole lot because his English wasn’t so good.  We drove west through Butte.  We drove past this sign near Garrison which read “Jesus Christ is Lord over this valley”.  Walentin pointed at the sign, smiled and gave me a thumbs up and I said “Praise the Lord!”

Walentin dropped me off in Missoula.  I walked to the library where I spent fifteen minutes on the internet.  I then walked across town to Brooks Avenue.

I had just walked past the McDonald’s when this young man ran up to me carrying a white sack.

“This is for you,” he said.  He gave me the sack and ran back to the McDonald’s.

“Thank you and God bless you,” I replied as I looked back at the McDonald’s.  I was very grateful.

I walked to this gas station where I set my backpack down.  I sat down on my backpack and looked inside the sack.  There were three sandwiches:  two double cheeseburgers and a chicken sandwich.

I began eating  a cheeseburger when this lady walked over to me.  She had been filling up her vehicle with gas when I arrived at the gas station.  She asked me what I was doing.  I told her that I was hitchhiking and that I was headed to Lolo.  She said that she could give me a ride.  So I grabbed my pack, put it in her vehicle and we drove off.

Her name was Shannon and she told me that she used to live in Driggs, Idaho.  I told her that I had hitchhiked through Driggs many times over the years.  I told her that I used to stay with a couple of friends in Victor whenever I passed through, but their house burned down back in 2012 and one of my friends died in the fire; his dad barely escaped the fire with his life.

“You knew George and Mike?” Shannon asked, a bit surprised.

“Sure did.  Mike is related to some friends of mine that live in Jackson, Wyoming.  George and Mike let me sleep on the kitchen floor whenever I came through town.”

“A lot of people knew George.  We hung out at the same bar in Victor.  There were a lot of wet eyes in the Driggs area when people found out that George died in the fire.”

Shannon drove to this store where she bought some dog food.  I helped her carry a bag of dog food to her vehicle.  We then headed south to Lolo.  She dropped me off at this gas station at the intersection of U.S. 93 and U.S. 12 and we said goodbye.

I walked west on U.S. 12 for a mile or so and camped in a shed near the river that night.

Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch

Posted January 22, 2015 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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The Wild Truth by Carine McCandless   14 comments

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The Wild Truth
By Carine McCandless

I wrote this comment on Amazon.com:

It took a lot of courage to write this book. I am sure it brought back a lot of painful memories. It was well-written and I hope more people read The Wild Truth by Carine McCandless.

After reading this book, the reader gets deeper insights into why Chris McCandless chose to sever all ties with his family and wander into the wilderness of Alaska. You don’t have to survive a firefight in the jungles of Vietnam or the deserts of Iraq to suffer from trauma. You can experience trauma in your own family. Chris McCandless had had enough physical and emotional abuse for one lifetime, left family and friends behind and drifted. His life was short, but he lived life to the fullest. Chris McCandless had an undefeatable spirit.

Not all who wander are lost.

Hebrews 11: 37-38:  “. . . they wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented; (Of whom the world was not worthy:) they wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.”

[Several years ago I was hitchhiking in western South Dakota and this lady picked me. She told me that she and her boyfriend had picked up Chris McCandless while he was hitchhiking through South Dakota in the early 1990s. She said that he went by a different name.]

Amazon.com
The Boston Globe
Carine McCandless and the Hidden Story Behind “Into the Wild”

It’s a Small World   6 comments

ainsworth

Ainsworth, Nebraska

Hitchhiking on U.S. 20 in Nebraska.

[25 February 2010]

Yesterday I was walking east on U.S. 20 between Bassett and Stuart, Nebraska when this car pulled over to give me a ride. This guy’s name was Shawn and he was going to Atkinson on an errand. We got to talking and he just got back from a mission trip to Mexico. Shawn used to be a pastor at a few churches. He recently lived in the Star Valley area of western Wyoming. He now lived in Valentine, Nebraska with his wife Theresa.

After Atkinson, we drove to Ainsworth to pick up his wife. We stayed at their friends’ place for supper and then drove west of Ainsworth to this farm to see a couple that they knew. We walked to the house and the man motioned for us to come inside. I looked at the man and he looked familiar. His name was Greg and his wife was Marla.

We talked for a while and Shawn told Greg and Marla that he had picked me up on the road earlier that day. I think Shawn then asked Greg if he had ever picked up any hitchhikers. Greg said that he and his wife picked up this hitchhiker in Idaho four or five years ago and that the hitchhiker had written a book. They dropped the hitchhiker off in Missoula, Montana.

Greg then said that the hitchhiker sent him a copy of his book. He searched for a short while and then produced the book [typescript]. It was my book! (High Plains Drifter)

It was a photocopy that this lady in Lewiston, Idaho had sent to them. She picked me up hitchhiking in the fall of 2004 and told me to give me a floppy disk of my book and that she would make some photocopies and then send it to anyone I wanted. She owned a print shop in Lewiston.

I told Greg that he probably picked me up on U.S. 12 somewhere between Kooskia and Lolo Pass, Idaho in the fall of 2004. We talked about it some more and I believe he picked me up at a gas station at Lowell or Syringa, Idaho.

We stayed at Greg and Marla’s place for an hour or so and had some excellent fellowship.

It’s a small world.

[Published by Digihitch–July 26, 2011]

Nebraska
Author/Hitchhiker
A Ride in Nebraska, Blue Highways and William Least Heat-Moon

Hitchhiking in Ireland, Northern Ireland, England and Wales   6 comments

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Back in September or October of 1980, I took a train and left Carlow, County Carlow in Ireland and headed north towards Dublin.  I had been working on a farm near Carlow for the past two months for Jim Foley and his family.  I got to Dublin and took a bus across the city center to this train station on the north side.  From there I took a train to Dundalk and then caught a bus to Kingscourt, County Cavan.

I had been told by some relatives back in the States that there was a Fr. Mackin who lived in Kingscourt.  He was staying at the Mackin Hotel.  Fr. Mackin was the priest at my grandparents’ parish in Red Oak, Iowa.  After he retired, he moved back to Ireland.

I arrived in Kingscourt and walked to the Mackin Hotel.  I met Fr. Mackin and he was very happy to see me and glad to hear that I was related to Dan and Bertha Shey of Red Oak.  (Grandma Shey died in Pharr, Texas in 1977; Grandpa Shey died in Houston in 1978).  His nephew and wife owned the Mackin Hotel and Fr. Mackin said that it would be all right if I stayed the night.

Later that evening, Fr. Mackin showed me a photograph of my grandparents when they were living back in Iowa.  I thought that was a nice detail:  I had travelled all the way to Ireland and met someone who knew my grandparents—and he still had a photograph of them.  Fr. Mackin spoke highly of my grandparents.

(A little side note:  Dan Shey’s grandfather (O’Shea) came from County Kerry; Bertha (Cruise) Shey’s father came from County Roscommon.)

So I stayed the night, packed my backpack the next morning, said goodbye to Fr. Mackin and hit the road.

I walked a few miles and this guy picked me up.  He said that maybe I shouldn’t be hitchhiking so close to the border with Northern Ireland.  Just a week before, this IRA (Irish Republican Army) gunman hijacked a car and drove into Northern Ireland.

We drove several miles and we stopped at this place where a construction company had its office—there was some road construction in the area.  The guy told me that the managing director of the construction company was there and that he might give me a ride into Northern Ireland.  A few minutes later, the managing director walked outside.  I was introduced to him by the other guy and I now had a ride towards Belfast.

I don’t remember the managing director’s name, but we had an intense talk about a lot of things.  He was raised in Wales and went to college at Cambridge.  He told me that he had played a lot of rugby as a young man and had hitchhiked all over England and France playing rugby.

Driving through Northern Ireland, I saw this military helicopter land near this farmhouse and these armed soldiers jumped out of the helicopter and ran towards the farmhouse.  I had a surprised look on my face.  The guy told me that you see the British Army a lot in Northern Ireland.

He originally was going to drop me off on the outskirts of Belfast, but we had such a great talk, he said that he would drop me off at the docks in Larne instead.  I told him that my plan was to take a ferry across to Scotland and travel to Dundee and look up the relatives of the Jim Foley family of Carlow.

He dropped me off in Larne and I got on a ferry to Stranraer, Scotland.

When I got to Stranraer, I met this guy from France.  He asked me, “Do you speak French?”

I shook my head and  said, “No.”

Then he asked, “London?”

I replied, “South.”  Then I pointed south.

The Frenchman walked to the highway and began to hitchhike.  I walked to the bus station and sat there for a while.  I walked outside an hour later and the Frenchman was gone—he had gotten a ride.  I went back inside the bus station and slept there that night.

The next day I got a bus to Glasgow.  From there I got on a bus to Stirling, Perth and then to Dundee.  I stayed at a motel that night in Dundee.  I then phoned the relatives of the Jim Foley family.  They said it would be all right to stay with them for a short while.  I stayed there a week and then got on a bus from Dundee to London.

I arrived at Victoria Station in London and then got on another bus to Southampton.  In Southampton, I walked around near the docks and visited four shipping companies.  I asked them if I could work for my passage to South Africa.  I wanted to eventually end up in Tanzania where a friend of my family, a Catholic priest, worked at a mission.  All four shipping companies turned me down; they said that they didn’t let people work for their passage anymore.

By that time, it was getting dark and I didn’t know where to go.  I went to this St. James Shelter for homeless men, but they didn’t let me in because I told them that I had some money on me (they only allowed men who were penniless).

I walked and walked all over downtown Southampton.  It started to rain and I was getting cold and wet.  I started to get down in the dumps.  I then walked to the police station and asked a policeman there if I could stay in the jail overnight.  He said absolutely not; the jail was for criminals only.  Then I really became dejected.  The jailer later told me that I could go to the Salvation Army and they would put me up for the night for five pounds.  I thanked him and walked to the Salvation Army where I had a warm bed to sleep in that night.

The next day after breakfast, I walked to the edge of this highway on the west side of Southampton.  I waited an hour and got a ride.  We drove through Salisbury and stopped at this pub where the guy bought me a pint of beer.  He told me that he had been to America before and thought that the beer in America tasted terrible.

We then drove through Bath, past Bristol and into Wales.  He dropped me off and then I got a ride with this guy and we went through Abergavenny, Llandovery, Llandeilo and Carmarthen.  I got another ride to Haverfordwest and then got dropped off around fifteen miles from Fishguard.

It was raining and past sundown and I sat at this bus stop for awhile and tried to sleep, but couldn’t.  I saw this little shed behind the bus stop, so I walked to the shed, found some hay and covered myself up with the hay and slept there that night.

The next day I walked to Fishguard and then to the docks.

I had a little money on me, but not enough to take the ferry across to Ireland.  At the docks, I met this Englishman and this Irishman.  The Englishman asked me if I could help the Irishman.  The Irishman hitchhiked from London to Dover thinking that he wanted to go to France.  He changed his mind and then hitchhiked to Fishguard.  He had no money on him.  Well, to make a long story short, the Englishman, the Irishman and myself put our heads together, put our money together and we all three were able to get on the ferry to Ireland.

The ferry took us from Fishguard to Rosslare Harbor in County Wexford.  The Irishman thanked me and thanked me and thanked me for helping him out.  He said that I could stay with his family in Wexford for the night, but I declined the offer.  We shook hands and I began walking down the highway.

I walked several miles and it was way past sundown.  I saw this shed in a pasture, so I jumped over the fence and slept in the hay bales of that shed that night.

The next day I hitchhiked back up to Carlow and phoned the Foley family.  I stayed there with the Foley family and helped with the sugar beet harvest.  I then flew back to the States around the 1st of November.

May 1981:  Northern Ireland and Bob Jamieson of NBC News
Setting Sail:  Irish Immigration During the Potato Famine
Born Fighting:  How the Scots-Irish Shaped America
Athy, County Kildare, Ireland
Revival in Ireland?
Hitchhiking Stories from Digihitch

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County Carlow

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Ireland

Posted September 22, 2014 by Tim Shey in Uncategorized

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An Email from Joke and Hans Grutter   Leave a comment

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This morning I received a nice email from Joke (pronounced “yoka”) and Hans Grutter:
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Dear Tim,
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Last week we received your book the High Plains Drifter. It was very interesting to read. I read through it in “one breath” as we call it. When I read all the places you have been, it brings up memories because we visited some of the places (cities) too.
I now also know why your email address  is “sawman”.
We hope and pray that you are doing fine and that the Holy Spirit keeps sending you where HE wants you to go and that you may be a blessing to the people you meet.
We are doing fine, and if we ever do a trip again like this year, we will inform you where we will be travelling so maybe we can meet somewhere along that trip.
We will pray for you.

Love and greetings,

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Joke & Hans Grutter, The Netherlands
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Getting a Ride with Hans and Joke Grutter
A Book Review for High Plains Drifter
Hitchhiking in Nebraska

 

Walls of Jericho Revisited   2 comments

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The Israelites marching around the walls of Jericho

Joshua 6: 20:  “So the people shouted when they blew with the trumpets:  and it came to pass, when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, and the people shouted with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat, so that the people went up into the city, every man straight before him, and they took the city.”

Hebrews 11: 30:  “By faith the walls of Jericho fell down, after they were compassed about seven days.”

Physical warfare in the Old Testament is a foreshadowing of spiritual warfare in the New Testament.

I am sure that there are manifold reasons why the Lord has had me hitchhike the United States for most of the past seventeen years.  One of the reasons is that my hitchhiking is fasting and prayer.  Most people think of fasting as fasting from physical food.  The lifestyle of fasting that I am talking about is fasting from the world system, lukewarm churches and the traditions of men that make void the Word of God.

In my experience, whenever I obey the Lord, I am delivered of a demon or maybe several demons.  I have been delivered of maybe hundreds of demons in my hitchhiking travels and many curses have been broken in my body and soul (I don’t believe that a demon can oppress or possess the spirit of a man—just the soul and the body).

Obedience, in our Christian walk of faith, is the great catalyst or the great mover and shaker of the spiritual realm.  Most Christians are justified by faith and that is about it for their walk with God.  The few Christians that are living in the Kingdom or New Jerusalem on this earth, are walking the narrow walk of obedience to the Father.  The Kingdom is obedience, obedience is the Kingdom (“thy will be done, thy Kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven”).  Time and time again I have told the Lord that all of this hitchhiking seems crazy and when do I get to die and go back home to heaven because this world is so strange to me and I really don’t fit in the world or even the church system.  But, of course, I am on this earth to please my Father and not myself.  All of this obedience (hitchhiking) glorifies my Father and it has delivered me of many deep-rooted demonic strongholds.

The city of Jericho back in Joshua’s day was a physical, demonic stronghold.  The generational curses and other curses in my body is/were a spiritual, demonic stronghold—and we defeat this stronghold through obedience to the Lord.  And it takes many years to be set free (“work out your salvation with fear and trembling”, “take up your cross and follow me”).  As you can see, I am not into this instantsalvationspeak:  justification by faith is instant, salvation is not.

The more the Christian believer is freed up from demonic bondage in the body and soul, the more the believer can affect powerful change in the heavenlies:  destroying Satan’s work and hindering principalities and powers of darkness.

The life is the sermon, the life is the witness:  when you see me, you see the Father.

Jericho (A Dream)
New Testament Circumcision
The Spiritual Man
Walls of Jericho
Obedience:  The Bondage Breaker
Strongholds
spiritualwarzone

Getting a Ride with Hans and Joke Grutter   10 comments

tim and hans

Tim and Hans

tim and joke

Tim and Joke

Yesterday I got a ride from Lolo, Montana to Kooskia, Idaho with Hans and Joke (pronounced “yoka”) Grutter.  They are a Christian couple from Holland.  We stopped for a while to see these guys in three boats go down the Clearwater River on U.S. 12.  Hans and Joke dropped me off in Kooskia and took the two pictures above.  Their plans were to drive to Seattle and then fly back to Holland.