Pains, Trains, and Automobiles

I'm In Philly!

It's almost disappointing to write that knowing that it may be the end of my blogging career.

But all the same; I arrived in Philly yesterday afternoon and I'm currently staying with the Simple way with my choice of couches to crash on.

This neighborhood is such a different world than I have ever been exposed to. I have nothing to do but try and take it all in for what it is and try to discern if I have a place in a town like this.

My greatest hope as I encountered the city lights, was that they would somehow direct some epiphany with a beautiful soundtrack of choral music and a light from heaven that would tell me the next step. Unfortunately, I am just as confused as before.

In a conversation with a new friend here, we discussed God's direction and the form it takes. Sometimes, it is very clear and we know beyond a doubt what is to be done; for instance, my walk. And other times it's more like the choose your own adventure books of childhood; where the options are before you, and it's your choice which page you will turn to. Though I never had much luck with those and inevitably chose the one that led to an untimely death; hmm, I may have to think on that for a while....

But I digress. For those of you who have been following, I just want to give you the reminder that I consistently hold onto; I left with nothing. I have made it half way across the country in just under four months time and was provided for every step of the way. I am alive only by God's hand. He deserves all the credit.

If you are interested in the details of the last three days of my trek (and the reason for the title) you may just have to wait for the...... book? (we'll see about that).

But in the meantime, I just want to thank all of you for entering into this with me. Those of you who were with me in prayer and support, I can't thank you enough for taking the time to be with me in spirit.

I love you all and truly hope to see you all soon, wherever you are.

christopher andrew.
signing off (for now)

Southern Comfort

Okay, you'll never guess where I am.

Go ahead, try.

Come on, it'll be fun.

Give up?

I'm in Gettysburg!

Getting a little redundant isn't it.

Though both fortunately, and unfortunately, this will not be the extended stay that it was last time.

I leave tomorrow.


Time flew by so quickly on my little south detour. I had the most amazing time of simply relaxing. And as I lounged in the pool, ate grilled salmon, and sipped Pinot Grigio on the veranda, I thought, 'Yeah, this is the life of a vagabond!'

The highlight of my time however, was not the luxury, it was family. I can't describe how absolutely reassuring it was simply to be around old friends. A little non-alcoholic southern comfort you might say.

Well not long after arriving in Round Hill, I discovered that there aren't many routes to Philly from that locale, and the best of those options just happened to take me right back to Emmaus. And even this now feels like home!

I had planned on getting a ride from here all the way to Lancaster, which is a good portion of the remaining trip. But it has been a while since I have stepped out into that unknown without knowing where my feet will land at night, and I think it's about time.

So tomorrow morning, I will leave, not by car, but by foot and see where I end up.

For those of you following, you may be thinking that I must be quite well off given my employment in Gettysburg and very few expenses to drain my funds. But except for the eleven dollars left in my pocket when I hitched out of here last week, everything else had been given away. I say this not for my own glory, but so that you may know the full measure of God's provision on the last leg of my journey.

That's all I have time for right now... But I will keep you 'posted'.


christopher andrew.

On Minor Detours and the Rule of Thumbin'

I forgot to mention the change of course in my last post, so it may come as a surprise to most of you that I have crossed two more state lines and am writing this blog from Round Hill, Virginia.

In God's amazing provision, he has even taken into account my homesickness. And, whereas I'm not exactly back on the shores of Ruth Lake, I am staying with the nearest thing to family this side of the midwest; my second cousin - once removed - by marriage.

Oddly enough, this is not the first time that God has used this wonderful young family in the same capacity.

I had never known of their existance until my second residence in California. When I moved to Yorba Linda, my family suddenly realized that I was living not far from this extended relative. So I looked them up.

They soon became somewhat of a surrogate family for me during my stay in California.. That is, until they moved.

I had lost all contact with them for two years but reconnected just two weeks ago to realize that they were too close to pass up.

Goodbyes were hard at Emmaus. There were a few tears and long drawn out sighs, but the heaviest part of this farewell was not just the leaving, but not knowing when, if at all, we would ever see each other again. But I have a sneaking suspicion that a reunion will come sooner than we think.

Given that my southbound sidetrack was not in the original route, I felt more liberty to explore alternate forms of vagabonding.

I left at nearly 10:30 and planned to walk as far as Thurmont, Maryland without seeking assistance. My feet were already upset by the time I saw the city and I stopped to eat and rest at the Shamrock lounge.

I talked with a young man who had just finished boot camp for a branch of the military. He was awaiting his placement, that was to be decided by the powers that be, and mused about the peace in a situation where he has no control over those major decisions. I related well on that topic.

From Thurmont, I had nearly 75 miles yet to go before I would enter Leesburg (the nearest town to Round Hill). And here's where I grew a thumb.

Though the act of hitchhiking is not dissimilar from my current traveling style, it comes with different expectations. On most of my walking days, rides are just a blessing and a needed distraction from long days on the road. But while walking backwards holding my thumb out in the air, rides are my goal.

I did not get picked up as quickly as I'd hoped, and there was still a good deal of walking to come, but soon enough I was in the passenger seat of a contract landscapers pickup.

A little rough around the edges but a christian with a kind heart nonetheless, he began to tell me the story of the summer after his junior year.

He and his friend had left home each holding $100 to their name. Their goal was Florida and a season of freedom. I could tell as he reminiced that he often looks back on that summer and sees nothing but freedom.

My second ride came just south of Fredrick Maryland and has the face of a 19 year old on his way to worship band practice. I struggled to fit my pack in the back of his minivan trying to fit it around the bike that laid over the seats. When I asked if he was an avid biker, he said "only when the van breaks down."

The van ran like a champ and brought me within 20 miles of my goal where I was soon picked up by two South American mechanics. I walked up to their moving van style truck and heard the passengers beautiful accent as he said "We'll have to share the seat." And crammed inside this tiny cabin, we talked of God and homes and the spanish word for hitchhiker (which I've already forgoten).

After a quick stop by the farmers market to stock up on watermelon we soon found ourselves saying goodbyes in Leesburg.

From there I called my long lost family and sat in a coffeehouse to await the shirttail reunion.

We reconnected with hugs and exclamations and they brought me to rest in their beautiful ranch style home in the lazy sticks of Virgina and at the base of the Blue Ridge Mountains. This is the stuff of the South.

The people that I will be connecting with in Philladelphia are leaving town for a short trip untill the 19th. So I can't very well arrive before then. I will stay here several days but soon I must begin to plan my route back to lovely Pennsylvania.

Lovin' and missin' you all!

Christopher Andrew.

Dissonant Chords Strike Deep

Warning: This post is entirely, and overtly, over dramatic. True to events but hindsight sees it's un-foundedness. Things always look more frightening in the thick of the woods.



Two days after my last post, I panicked.

My heart seized and tensed in preparation for the only response I could muster; flight.

I called my boss immediately that morning, in what felt like a breakdown, and begged him to fire me; to release me from the only contract that bound me to this city.

He would not.

But this place was suddenly too much to bear.

Whereas it is very true that on the the road one faces a brand new set of demons; those dark quiet leviathans of the mind that hide away in everyday noise; it is also true that community offers it's own pervasive trials.

Namely...... integrity, or lack thereof.

Integrity is not a thing forced on the traveling man. When everyday is a new city, a blank slate that I introduce myself to only for the night; there is no one who knows my yesterdays.

In all honesty, I could remake myself every day of the week. Put on a new person, try out a new name, make up a list of grand accomplishment, or hint at a sordid past. And whatever town it happened to be, would not know me, but truly believe in the existence of that other man, the man of my invention.

I don't employ such deliberate deceit as to speak in different accents or say 'hi I'm Rufus' but there is a more subtle deceit that happens when there are no checks and balances, the lie that I'm bigger than my own skin.

Community, then, is the checkpoint. The station at which all of these transparent self-portraits are held against the light, one on top of the other, to reveal what registers, and what doesn't. Am I who I say I am, or do I just spin a lofty tale.

I have been as transparent as I know how in my current post at Emmaus. I had told them my life, my struggles, my shortcomings. They know I am imperfect. But still there was a great panic fearing something more; fearing, maybe, that they would believe it.

And I was stuck under the weight of what felt like the immanent rendering of my true colors.

I was immobile, paralyzed, buried up to my neck in Civil War souvenirs with a face covered in honey waiting for the ants to swarm and pick little pieces of these smiles and poses to reveal what the camera can't see, the one behind the curtain. All my personal propaganda, defenestrated.

Some lines from my journal written moments after my plea for freedom:

"The perfection of ideal shows the convection of the real
boiled down to wicked paste, good for nothing but the
taste, for greed, and glory,
and my own d##m story"

So I took on a fast, not out of reverence, but defiance. I was in the mind to starve myself until God showed his face. I was seething at a Savior who hadn't 'saved' me enough. Almost two full days and I was bitter and sullen, sulking around in corners.

That is, until the picnic.

An entire afternoon surrounded by all of my new friends, set in the park on the most beautiful of days. All afternoon, I did not touch the luscious foods or partake in the games of frisbee and childlike tag, I laid quiet and shaded just outside the picture. But as the sun began to set, my frustrations seemed to dissolve. And I could no longer remember what had gotten me so angry in the first place.

There was so much enjoyment to be had that afternoon; and seeing my friends running about smiling, shouting 'Chris, come play!' there was peace.

God did show up.

God had been there all along.

After all every good and perfect gift comes from Him, and I seem to be in the middle of an endless Christmas.

So were those feelings and fears founded? Of course not. No one had pulled me aside and revealed that I was more wicked than I pretend to be. Though they felt no less real.

There is always a sharpening and revealing when one is in community and it is often hard, but it is nothing to fear or run from. It is only the shaping of who we're meant to be.

But is this not just an example, albeit an extreme one, of that strange relational paranoia that we all feel from time to time; those senses that paint ourselves darkly in light of our friends, enemies, and especially those we admire?

The heart is deceitful above all things.



I'll be leaving Gettysburg soon; Monday morning to be exact. But not in fear with a desire to escape, I leave with peace, and a hope of returning.



Thanks to all of you who are with me in this. I love you!



Christopher Andrew

A Rock Venue and a Hard Place

Who Am I

The fair maiden and fiance to the prince was in a deeply troubled posture as she asked a question that could very well confirm her deepest longing,

"Who are you?" she posed in quiet conviction.

To this, her masked rescuer, turned villainous tormentor, known to her only as 'the man in black' replied,

"No one of consequence."

It's not important.

If you have not seen the movie "The Princess Bride" then stop reading, rent it, watch it, and fall in love. It's probably funnier and more beautiful than anything I'm writing anyways.

The beauty of the scene I just described is that his statement is true. All the while, the audience knows that behind that mask is the man whom our fair maiden 'Buttercup' had given her heart and devotion to years ago. Inside that 'man in black' is Wesley, the one that she has desperately missed and longed for even for years after his rumored death.

But the man in front of Buttercup is not Wesley; it is another man whose only purpose is to reunite the man inside him and the woman he loves.

The 'man in black' is of no consequence; and neither am I.

I am just a villainous creature in whom Christ dwells as he cries out to the world, and often to me, to be reunited in a love that we know even deeper than our understanding. A love that goes deeper than our sins.

But too often, I try to steal His Glory for my own. I want to be remembered. I want to prove myself to God; show Him how cool I am.

I was challenged as I read the story of the returning of the 72 disciples.

These men had just traveled the country side preaching in towns as they healed the sick, cast out demons, raised the dead, and any other miraculous thing you can imagine. And they are excited. These men come running up to Jesus saying 'look at this!' 'look at all of these cool things we did in your name!'

And my heart echos in an eight year old voice, 'God, look what I can do. Am I special now?"

Jesus' response? 'Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.'

(I already love you.)

His love is not dependent on the cool things we do. Whether I am a spiritual mogul or just a bumbling vagrant still chasing apocalyptic candy, God's promises do not change, His love does not waver.

My walk can't save me, Jesus already has.


Only God knows why I am on this journey.

I am no one special.

Most days, I would challenge Paul to an arm wrestling contest over the title, 'the worst of all sinners.'

But

here

I

am.


Christopher Andrew.

Alarmed and Dangerous

Okay, so I'm not exactly dangerous, but I do find myself suddenly victim to the world of alarms or time in general. And it's a feeling that will take some getting used to.

I am still in Gettysburg much to my surprise. But the community that I've found here has been so generous as to let me stay as long as I would like. And as of three days ago, I am locked into this town for longer than I thought. And here comes the alarms.

I turned in an application, more by fluke than anything, to a little ice cream parlor in a very tourist oriented area of town. Three days later, the owner called to request an interview. Even after I explained the fact that I was only to be in Gettysburg for a month at the most, he still offered me a position but not at the ice cream parlor.

He also owns several tourist shops in the same area including a book store centered on Civil War History, a Civil War gun and sword replica shop, and I currently work at the Battlefield Souvenirs. Like any souvenir shop, it has all of the necessary cheap and poorly made anything with Gettysburg on the front. With the express purpose of giving tourists a cheap thoughtless gift to make their friends back home believe that they were thinking of them. In a desire not to be partial these Chinese imports support both the blue and the gray.

I tossed the idea around for a night but finally realized the rarity of a vagrant getting a job at all, so I took the position. And now I find myself utterly paranoid about time. I have no watch or cell phone and the batteries are dead on my sun dial, so I am constantly searching for a clock to make sure that I will be on time and it's such a strange sensation. I have been free and untethered by those ticking hands, and now they've come and slapped me upside the head. They don't like to be ignored.

It's an incredibly simple job that leaves me begging to read books all day but that would be against store policy. In the first day of training, I was left alone for a couple hours to work the register and explore the store. All was going well and I'm pretty sure that I could run the place through an REM cycle, but in one moment, I was nearly brought to tears.

I picked up a shot glass, a staple at any tourist trap, that described in detail how 'yellow bellied yanks' couldn't hold their liquor. As I looked up from that two dollar joke, I realized how everything in this store represents a war. Every figurine was someone real, someone's son, brother, and most likely someone's murderer. These toys meant for kids 'ages three and up' wouldn't exist if not for the deaths of thousands of people.

For the rest of the day, and even still now, it is hard to look at the dolls, toy guns, even American flags without seeing a bloodstained field. No matter how innocent they look. I am suddenly amazed at how cold and calloused we must be to capitalize on such tragedy.

And I am working there all the same.

However, I have some time off this weekend for a trip to the fabulous destination of Philadelphia, PA. That's right! I get a sneak peak of what's to come.

The group I'm staying with has invited me along on their three day trip to work with Circle of Hope Ministries in Philly. I am really very excited to see the city for the first time and make some connections But yes, I will be coming back to finish out my tour in the cruel war memorial store and spend some more time with the folks here.

I really do enjoy this town. I'm not sure if I could live here, but that is not a decision I have to make quite yet.

I will certainly be here through the end of August and hopefully I will still have some interesting things to write about. If not, I may have to make up some authentic Gettysburg Ghost Storied (another interesting industry here) to post so you don't think my life is bland.

Thanks all for reading! I'll post again after Sunday to let you know my first response to Philadelphia.

Love you all!

P.S. Jeremy, if you're following all of this, there are several Irish brigade flags hanging up in the store and I never go a day without thinking of you!


Christopher Andrew

I've Been Patronized!!

I have always commented that I simply want someone to patronize my life; to simply pay for my existance that I may be free to pursue whatever creative endeavor that blew through my spirit. I would complete all of the art I ever wanted to do through my blue period, yellow period, and a minor venture into magenta. I would be free to join Circ Du Soleil, write a symphony, or the great Canadian novel (why not). I didn't figure that was too much to ask.

Well this last week was a taste of just that, though I didn't actually do any art. The retired proffessor who took me in was entirely too kind (if that's possible.) His hospitality was above and beyond anything I expected almost to the point of decadence. For an entire week I was spoiled with great meals, great conversation, a couple nights at the movies, and a trip to Washington D.C. where we toured the National Gallery and I took in Degas, Monet, Manet, and a host of modern favorites. I sat for twenty minutes in front of an image that I never thought I'd see in person. A painting by my hero, Mr. Mark Rothko. Check out the image for yourself, but keep in mind that it is 9-10 feet tall!

http://www.hohpe.com/Gregor/Travel/2002/DC/rothko.jpg

I am still here in Gettysburg though no longer staying with the proffessor. Last Wednesday I stopped by a place called Emmaus to take in a concert that I'd heard about. It is a great venue located downtown in the former Elks building, complete with a full kitchen, coffee bar facilities, and of course a two lane bowling alley in the basement. But through the course of the evening, I found that it was much more.

One floor above the concert venue in this grand old building were several apartments occupied by Christians who ran the shows as well as a thrift store on the third floor. These Christians call themselves an "intentional community." They desire to know and experience what it truly means to be a community and to be a positive part of the greater community around them.

Naturally I was intrigued and after a couple conversations, I was invited to stay with them for a time. So I packed my things yesterday and moved in (temporarily.) But before that, there was Sunday; and what an interesting experience that was.

I went to three different services in the course of this Sunday. But the second one was certainly a thing to remember.

I had met some young guys who attend a small church that they are very involved in and being that I've missed about 6 Sunday services on this trip, I was ready to catch up. The service that afternoon was not that exceptional or remarkable except to find out that this small church very strongly believes in a predestination of God's elect. What this means is that God has already chosen those who will see Heaven and those condemned to Hell, thus (they believe) Christ did not die for the sins of all mankind. but only of those whom God had already chosen. And this is very far from the truth.

The exceptional thing was how it came to be that everyone there treated me cautiously as if I were insane. And if I were in there shoes, I might have done the same.

Part way through the service, God decided to use my mouth for His purpose. I don't know how to describe the experience entirely except to say that I could feel the words rising within me. As they did, I tried as best I could to ignore them and especially ignore what I knew God was asking me to do with them. But the more I pressed them away, the more God intended to make it clear. My body began to shake outside of my control, and my heart began to pound at incredible rates increasing to a point that I nearly felt that I would go into cardiac arrest or lose the ability to breathe if I did not speak out. I can finally understand what the prophet meant when he said the words are burning within him. God was not going to let me out of this one. So just as they were beginning a communion service, I shouted the words God had burned in my heart;

"Why have you forgotten my spirit? Your hearts are full of pride! Your hearts are full of pride!"

Immediately, a man grabbed my shoulders and silenced me. And as I stayed there on my knees still shaking and very much in the presence of the Holy Spirit, the man sat next to me, one hand pressed on my shoulder to quell any other potential outbursts.

I have never spoken prophetically before and to be honest, I am still a little shaken from the whole experience. On one hand I am so excited that God would use me in that way, and in incredible awe at the whole experience. On the other hand, I would have wished for kinder words to speak.

I really like to have people like me, and this proclamation warred with my flesh on that very battleground. But I have been truly desiring a heart that seeks God's glory before my own and if there was any glory to be had in that moment, it was certainly not mine.

Later, I was given a stern talking to as I was told of my pride that required repentance. I was told strongly that the Gospel I believed was false, as was my Jesus, and the words that I spoke. Altogether, I didn't make any friends.

But let it be known, that Jesus, my savior, died for all men, that all may come to know Him, and that all who believe will find salvation!!!


I am staying in Gettysburg for a while, despite the awquard prospect of meeting my new non-friends around town. I am very glad to have stumbled into this community, and I want to be able to experience all that they are about.

Please feel free to e-mail me as I will have a consistent internet connection for the time that I am here, and I would LOVE to hear from you all.

And that is all for tonight.

Much Love!

Christopher Andrew.

30 Days in One Long Evening

Surprise! Much to the relief of all you die hard fans out there, I'm back to posting much sooner than expected. If there are any of you who took bets on how long I would truly last in the wilderness, the sceptics who put money on one night are now much richer than before.

Just for a moment, I am going to open up the pages of my journal of private postings so that you can experience the great theological ramblings and discoveries made during my time in the Appalachians.

Take a moment to prepare yourselves for the depths of thought to be achieved.

Sunday July 22nd

"This sucks! Holy Crap this sucks! Time is moving slower than anything and I have nothing to pass the time with! And everything is amplified by the fact that I haven't smoked, I have no smokes and I really want to smoke!!

I've told God that I don't think I can handle this; and I don't. And asked him to give me a clear sign tonight or I am out tomorrow morning. I already planned an escape route.

AHHHHHHH!

I set up camp around 3 o'clock and by 6 o'clock I was considering packing up and leaving as I still am right now, but it is too late already; maybe it's 7 o'clock. I have hours left of daylight and I can hear the bass music of some bar and it's driving me nuts!

How do people honestly do this!? I hate being alone unless I'm in a crowd of people.

My biggest hope right now is that He will not give me a sign tonight and I will be able to leave."

END JOURNAL ENTRY.

Not exactly what I was hoping for.

But what was I seeking? What did I truly want out of my time on the trail? To sit with Jesus around a campfire and sing Kum bah yah with Him (that would be ironic,) or have some great revelation of wisdom that I could share as a blessing to others? Those may be part of my intentions.

But as I reflect, I can tell you that the greatest desire that inspired the 30 day time frame was birthed out of pride and vanity; not so pure hearted as I hoped.

I wanted to be 'that guy.' You know, the cowboy, the mountain man, a Sasquatch. Whatever 'he' is, I wanted to be it. I had an image of a man who is completely secure in who he is wandering the wilderness with his scruffy beard and branch torn jeans completely at peace with nature and his inner something or other. And that was the greater impetus, to add that character to my image.

I am positive that God lead me into the trail. There was something that he wanted me to experience. I had prayed early on that God would break my pride. And continue to keep me in check as my heart would rather make this trip more and more about me. And as I write this post, I am humbled.

You'll note from the date that I have put off writing this for a few days and honestly considered holding off for the remaining 27 then subsequently postdating all of my later posts accordingly. But here I am, admitting to you all; I am no Sasquatch or great revelatory prophet. I am just a sinner, bumbling around the country trying to figure out how to walk.

Since my escape from the wilderness, I have been staying in Gettysburg, where I was immediately taken in by a very kind retired professor. He has been more than hospitable, and as he says, glad for the adventure of hosting me.

I have met so many people here and really had a wonderful time; and yes brother, I did see the battlefields, and even the museum. God willing, I will stay a couple more days before moving on to the rest of my journey as I come nearer and nearer the goal.

I love you all!!

Christopher Andrew.

It's Your Turn

Well friends, this is the beginning of the second phase in this grand experience. I am writing this post from Chanbersburg, a short distance from the Appalachian Trail. I will stay one more night here as I camp on the lawn of a local business owner, and tomorrow will find me in the mountains.

God has led me not to walk the trail, but merely hike in for a day and set up a camp that will be my home for thirty days. I am truly excited and mortified at the prospect of seclusion. I would like to think that I will experience a time like that in Dances with Wolves, yet I know myself when I am alone and I am scared to face it.

I have high hopes that I will be able to send letters through passing hikers so as to keep you all invoved in my experience, but I am not sure how probable that is. So as of now, I have a challenge for all of you in this time.

I am sure that some of you have felt a tugging on your hearts, a challenge or conviction either in these recent months or the last few years. God is most definately moving in this time in very exciting ways and He is looking for a people who say "Here I am Lord. Send me." For some the challenge may be an entire lifestyle change, for others it may be simply befriending a neighbor; and both big and small adventures like these are just as important in the Kingdom of God. And the time is now.

Now I leave the posting up to you. I want you all to post your stories of whatever God is leading in your life in the comments section of this post, not only for me, but for all of the others following this site. Encourage each other with your stories of faith and ways that God is moving in our midst. Every story is important and can encourage in so many ways. I hope that in some small way God has increased all of your faith as He has increased mine through His guidance and provision on my journey thus far. He is sufficient and will be with you in whatever he is calling you to.

If I am not able to post, remember that this journey is not over, and God-wiling, I will be back online in 31 days. But please continue to check this site for the stories of your brothers and sisters which I very much look forward to reading when I can.

I love you all! Remember that God is bigger than our wildest dreams! And with that I leave you for a time.

Christopher Andrew.

My Ligonier Brutha

Not long after the last post, I was sitting on the porch of the bed and breakfast simply because I had exhausted all of the options in town before noon. So I laid in the sun for a spell before I sought out the shade of the porch to spend some time in prayer.

During this short respite I began to feel God's leading that I should go into town to meet someone. I sat with this for a moment before I asked Him, "Where?" When I got no response, I simply made a list of places in my head and told God that I would go down the list and if the place is closed I will move on.

It didn't take me long to realize that these small town businesses have a 5 o'clock curfew, and I was 30 minutes late. So I wandered through town passing the library many times, and each time I noticed the young man sitting on the bench outside.

After my fourth pass, I decided to sit down and was immediately drawn into conversation. This young man had a peace about him, like a stillness that I could barely describe. It didn't take me long to realize that at his ripe young age of 26, he had experienced much of life.

After talking a while and expressing my lack of, well, anything to occupy my time, he offered to take me to the state park for a hike. And since hiking is something I do so rarely (sarcasm) I was glad to go.

The scene was incredible! Lush forests surrounding a clear stream were framed with high rolling hills. We found a swimming hole, and after gauging the temperature and weighing it against carpe diem, we dove right in.

He offered a place to stay for a second night in Ligonier and gave me something else to look forward to.

I stayed true to the lawn of the B&B and spent a lovely night in my tent, all the while anticipating what deliciousness would be waiting for me in the morning. And it was all that I imagined.

I especially loved her heart as she made the meal. While I, being a good mid-westerner, asked if there was anything I could do to help, she immediately told me to sit down and relax and all would be ready shortly.

I spent the rest of the day much like the one before, doing very little. Though I did walk to the grociery store to pick up some 'on the road' delicacies (peanut butter and bagels). And conveniently, I ran into my new friend there.

We had an amazing time at his secluded little cabin. After a great meal, a bonfire, and a firfly light show, he even humored me with a tune on his banjo. All this time was accompanied by such great conversation where everything was purposeful and laden with meaning. As he would say, "The time was magical."

I was floored by the simplicity of his existance (literally, I slept on the floor.) A table was the only funiture he had. And on that table there were painting supplies to add to the ongoing mural of his bathroom walls; which I did.

I was sad to part ways this morning, but to you my new friend, "Wow Brutha, it was wild".

Today, I found the mountains. Three miles into my hike today, I suddnely began going uphill quite rapidly then continued to do so for nearly two hours. I had stumbled upon a six mile hill, on which my ears popped twice from the change in elevation. I was amazed and completely out of breath when I reached the sign that said "Summit, Elevation: 2,684 ft.

I stepped into a bar to regain my center of balance and eat a peanut butter bagel, when the owner offered a meal on the house. And when funds are low, those are welcome words. I proceeded to eat a 9 inch tall bacon cheesburger with the paramedics on speed-dial (that's a bit exaggerated, but it was huge!). And the man next to me offered to drive me down the mountain.

After my ride and some historical lessons along the way, I had a ten mile jaunt into Bedford.

Finding Church doors locked, I walked into a Christian coffee house with the name HeBrews. Clever huh? Anyways, I talked with the lovely barista for a while and asked if she had any suggestions. She sweetly told me that they currently have three houseguests but she would check with her husbad to add one more.

I love the graciousness of this household.

Well that's a long enough post.... Being concise was never a strongpoint.

Christopher Andrew.

A Taste of the Wild.

Well the concert in Pittsburgh was the highlight of my time there. The venue, an abandoned Catholic church that had been renovated into a bar, made for a great concert space. Aside from the odd moral dilemma of drinking and dancing taking place in a building that once frowned upon that behavior, I was very impressed.

In the morning, the young man that I had stayed with took me to the edge of town and back to my faithful route 30. Though the intersection of his route with the highway that was so clearly marked on the map, neglected to say that the road we were on crossed nearly 40 feet beneath the highway that I needed.

Seeing another intersection marked, I kept on walking hoping that the two would cross on the same elevation. My hopes were dashed as I came to a tunnel with my desired route still 30 feet up an incredibly steep incline. With no other option in sight, I trudged up the thorn covered hill and nearly spent all of my energy for the day.

One short break later, catching my breath and looking for all the scratches left by some mean foliage, and I was on the way.

I passed through several small towns with very little break in between and had very little thoughts of anyone picking me up. My experiences with the traffic in PA thus far has been borderline hostile. I wonder what inspires young men to roll down their windows and scream just as they pass. I'm sure it gets a good laugh to see me nearly jump out of my skin, but when walking that close to traffic, autonomic behaviors such as the knee-jerk reaction are not entirely welcome.

But many miles down the road, a young man shouted from stopped traffic at an intersection and I had a ride.

I was especially glad for this blessing being that 30 turned into a freeway (i.e. no pedestrians allowed) with no alternate route for several miles. So this young upstart real estate agent brought me passed all that deciding several times to keep going beyond where he planned to drop me off.

Soon after we were passed Greensburg, He remembered a place from his young life in this area that would be perfect for the night. There is a point where 30 splits into two one-way roads and down the center runs a beautiful quiet stream. One of the crossing points had always been a favorite with locals for hosting bonfires and wading in the stream with beer in hand (which I did, sans beer). And nestled here in between the highway and some majestic wooded foothills was a campsite.

The locals had simply built up this small patch of land very naturally over the years. There was a bench and fire ring made out of flat river stones and a clearing surrounded by the tallest maples I've ever seen. I can only imaging that this is just a glimmer of what the Appalachians will be.

My new real estate friend left me there but not for long. Only an hour or so later, he returned with his fiancee and a couple friends to join me at my quiet little fire. I was so glad for the company in this wilderness location as spending nights alone is still one of my biggest struggles.

They left me just after dark and I took some quiet time by the fire as I listened to the stream nearby to journal a while before bed.

This morning I woke up to one of the most amazing sites. Just looking down the river and seeing fog roll up and over the hills with the sun barely burning through and that was the view I had for quite some time as I headed down the road.

I only walked five or six miles today through some of the most incredible scenery thus far. The road was still very close to the stream and the hills all around were more lush than I could've imagined. The first town that I came to was Ligonier.

The people here were immediately friendly and several greeted me even before I said hello! That's actually very rare. Part way through town, a woman seated on the porch of her bed and breakfast shouted good morning and immediately I felt as though I were a friend. We talked a while and she pointed me to a great breakfast joint.

Not long after I sat down, the waitress called me by name, but the funny thing is that I hadn't told her my name. She told me that the woman from the bed and breakfast had called to put my meal on her tab! And I hadn't even told her of my lack of resources!

So I had a hearty breakfast and a great chat and semi-devotional with my waitress. When all was over, I went back to the B&B with thanks and an offering of half of a great pastry (that she had paid for).

She is on the list of one of the most intentionally kind people I have met so far, and tonight I will be camping on the lawn behind her quaint cottage B&B.

So far, I absolutely love this town. It is obviously a tourist location but they have maintained the feel of a small town community even though many people are just passing through.

When I leave here, the walking will be slightly more labor intensive as here is where foothills become mountainous, but I welcome the change in scenery as much as this kind locale.

Much love,

Christopher Andrew.

From Buckeye to Steeler

I made a few calls before one of my new Beaver Falls friends drove me to the big city. I tried to connect with a ministry or a church to find a place to stay in Pittsburgh so I wasn't left in the lurch (no idea what that actually means.) I was looking forward to this city and I didn't simply want to pass through in search of a friendly lawn.

The calls I made were fruitless, none of those that I connected with were able to put me up. So into the city we go.

We arrived at around 10:30 am, giving me confidence that I had time to get out of Pittsburgh if I needed to. I wandered a pretty cool district of town trying to meet the locals. After coffee and a short conversation, I headed towards downtown seeking a bed. I talked with a few people who were involved with Christian organizations and the consensus every time was to point me to the homeless shelter.

For the record, I am not above staying in a homeless shelter, but I considered it a last resort.

I stopped into a church where the receptionist directed me to someone else, who directed me to another who was out for lunch. It was a lively game of pass the vagrant. I waited for my next contact but I had a sense of the coldness in this building and as I was tossed around like a hot potato, I was loosing confidence in their hospitality.

When we finally met, I explained my situation along with the premise and some stories from my trip. I asked her if there was anyone who would be willing to take me in or let me camp on a lawn and this is how the conversation went.

Her: "We don't have anything set up for that."

My Inner Monologue: "What needs to be set up?"

Me: "I'm not looking for a program that you've set up, just wondering if anyone you know could put me up for the night."

Her: "Yeah, I'm sorry, there are some shelters for addicts, but we really don't have anything set up for that."

My Inner Monologue: "Who is this 'we' you keep talking about? I'm talking to you, you know, sister in Christ?"

Me: "I don't need a program, I just need some lawn space or a futon. Do you know anyone with a couch?"

Her: "No"

Inner Monologue: "Liar." And Or, "What kind of strange couchless world have I stepped into!?"

I proceeded to quote a section of Matthew 25, "I was hungry and YOU fed me, I was naked and YOU clothed me; I was a stranger and YOU TOOK ME IN." (though slightly more congienially than the capitol letters imply).

There was the impass; and I left.

I wandered downtown looking for another church with open doors, and to be honest, I was a little riled up from my last encounter, and looking for a fight.

The next open door had locked offices, but downstairs was a hot dog shop and cafe. I walked in and asked if there was any church staff in the building only to find out later that this cafe was barely affiliated with the gorgeous old world church above them, but connected with another ministry entirely.

After talking with the young owner, she started making phone calls to her friends to find a place for me to crash. And soon a young man came in that was more than willing to let me sleep on his floor. Soon enough, he and I were touring around town as he showed me the local sites and dropped into some great coffee houses.

I absolutely love this city! Asthetically, I have been amazed by every bit of old world architecture from the grand cathedrals to ivory covered abandoned factories and some boarded up homes, not to mention the Andy Warhol Museum with a Kieth Harring exhibit! So often I have wished for a camera or sufficient painting supplies to capture it in one fashion or another.

The communities and neighborhoods are all very vibrant and full of life as locals crowd sidewalks and shout greetings across the streets. And there is something that I can't quite put my finger on, but feels like an air of change or simply just a great potential, but for what I don't know.

We joined a party that was a collection of Grove City Graduates (Oh yeah, Harmony, I'm thinking of you,) most of whom are members of a local band that is performing tonight; and how could I turn down a concert?

We'll be headed out soon for the show and as far as I know, I will be leaving tomorrow with such thankfulness to these 'city folk' who have taken me in.

I will post more when I can, but for now, I have to get ready for a show!!

I LOVE YOU ALL! And to all a good night!?

Christopher Andrew

Sweet Home Pennsylvania

I have just crossed my fifth and final state border! I half expected a welcome party with a dancing color guard and a band playing fanfare in front of all the citizens of PA clapping as I passed. Kind of like the Saturn dealership, but way cooler. Okay, I didn't really imagine that but I thought that passing by the welcome sign would have at least inspired me to dance a jig, but I was tired, and it's really hard to do high kicks with a forty pound pack.

I left Salem and my free hotel room early yesterday morning to go into town for coffee. When I checked out of my hotel, there was a pound of fresh roasted coffee grounds waiting for me with an invitation to come by before I left. The owners had heard that I was sad to find their doors closed at 4:30 pm and were eager to make it up to me.

I returned the grounds knowing that there was no way that I could brew it, and left after my free drink and muffin.

Just as I left town and entered into the beginnings of some majestic foothills, it began to rain. I quickly threw on rain gear and covered anything in my pack that needed it then pressed on down the road.

The only major problem with walking in the rain is not getting wet from the outside, but the buildup of moisture inside my 'breathable' rain gear. Within 30 minutes, even I could tell that I reeked to high heaven, and I had just had such a nice shower.

Not far out of town, I walked into a local breakfast joint for some french toast. The locals were very friendly and immediately started to ask questions. Some other adventurers dining there started telling stories of their travels and the kindnesses that they had found on the road. All the while the waitress was trying to grasp the concept of a God who speaks... I love those moments.

The gentleman put some cash together to pay for my meal then offered me a five mile ride to the next town. I was hesitant given my hygienic state, but obliged all the same.

The rain wasn't eager to let up and some thunderstorms rolled nearby, but by late afternoon (and many, many miles of wet) the sky cleared up to a beautiful blue. And just in time for me to cross the line.

My welcome into PA was quiet and a little deserted being that there was no town for another 4 miles. My body was starting to give way and needed rest fairly often. Soon I found a small restaurant where I was glad to enjoy a bacon cheeseburger and stay off of my feet for a time. The patrons were quiet and kept to themselves; a stark difference from my breakfast experience but to be expected on most occasions.

The waitress pointed out that the next town (though it's not on the map) was Chippewa and only a few miles farther. So I put on my tourist cap (metaphorical) and went to check it out.

It was a small and quiet town with much more corporate businesses than I expected. I searched for a locals hangout with little luck. Just as I began to think that I should walk outside of town, I saw a church with cars in the parking lot.

Once inside, I was directed (by the barbershop quartet) to head outside to the field in search of the youth pastor. I went outside and looked for a large congregation of children and soon found the one in charge. The youth pastor quickly offered me a place to stay and some food from their little cafe of sorts. Once all of the details of my trip were sorted out, he asked a favor of me.

After the band had played two songs, this young pastor introduced me and handed over the microphone. I was so glad to share the details of my journey and tell these young ones how great our God is; not to mention, I absolutely love speaking!

God's timing is so fun.

Then there was volleyball madness.

The band members decided to give me a free tee-shirt which looks 'bad' (that means good) on me, and more than that, it was clean! So I wore it proudly after all was over as we went to meet those that I would be staying with.

We drove to Beaver Falls, the home of Geneva College. The young woman I was about to meet (ironically from southern MN) had attended Geneva and been upset by the disconnection between the community and these private school students. As her best resolution, she and a friend bought a house in the community with enough room to house several Geneva students and introduce them to the community of Beaver Falls. They have intentionally become friends with their neighbors and play games in the yard with the community kids. There is no real planning or organizing behind it, that's just part of who they are.

I was glad to stay the night, and will stay one more just to get to know a few people here before moving on toward the big city of Pittsburgh. I am both excited and scared about that prospect, but hopefully I will have a contact even before I arrive. That way I can see the city without the pressure of finding a spot to stay while I'm at it.

Thank you all so much for your comments! I love to hear from you and I hope that some day soon it will be in person!

Christopher Andrew

Do I look Like a Cop?

Hello from Salem OH!

I'm writing now from the public library in downtown Salem only a couple blocks from my free hotel room!

I left Mansfield early Monday morning and started out again on the familiar route 30. About 6 miles out of town, a minivan stopped and offered a ride. He was a bricklayer and headed to pick up his crew before going to their job site in Akron. Now Akron is a good distance north of my plotted route, but still east of where I was. So I took the ride.

We picked up his crew, 6 men in all, making for a very packed minivan experience. The only thing these men said to me was "do you 'smoke'?" (implying a different substance than tobacco.) I said no, and they passed a joint around the van.

I wandered through downtown Akron and found a coffee house to relax at. I had met someone in Madison Wi, a young hippie college student, who lived a short distance from Akron. She had told me to call if I was close so that I could stay at their cabin in South Benton. I was very much looking forward to a cabin on a lake and a very relaxing day until I called; then called again, and again; finding that her cell phone was turned off.

So here I was in a very large city with no place to stay and a flaky contact. What else could I do but head out of town.

I wandered down city streets eventually finding a route out of the city and toward a state park (camping sounded nice). Eleven miles later, I find that there is no campground. It's amazing how much longer a day seems when you're frustrated.

So I wandered a bit more finding none willing to stop, until I pulled off for water. I stopped in a small community to hydrate and the man whose driveway I walked in, jumped in his car and offered a ride instead. He told me that he had seen me earlier and really felt like he was supposed to pick me up but ignored the sensation. Though when I pulled in his driveway, he could see the obvious providence. I told him my story and we had a great conversation about the bigness of our God.

After the five mile ride, I was in Atwater Center, home of two restaurants, a gas station, and a beautiful little church. I sat at the diner for a while to rest my feet, and as I started to walk out of town, I heard the church bell and saw cars in the parking lot. So I sauntered over to take a look.

The pastor offered the church lawn as my post for the night and I was very glad to take it, regardless of it's proximity to the cemetery. I set up camp and took a shower from their hose.

After their meeting, they brought me snacks and another gentleman offered me 20$. I was very glad to accept them. I love seeing God's people taking care of the needy (i.e. me:)

Just after sunset, I went to one of the restaurants for a little snack. The kitchen was closed but the waitress offered to serve me anyways, and extended the same offer to three young men at the counter. The guys joined me at my table and as they started to ask questions, one of them was particularly fascinated. They offered a futon for the night, and although my tent was already set up, I could not turn them down. so I joined them and the rest of the party at their house.

The oddest thing about this experience was that some of them were strangely suspicious of me. At one point, I was almost driven back to my tent because some of them were uncomfortable thinking that I was an undercover cop (there was some 'smoking' there as well.) After the 'Paranoid Petes' left the house, I was allowed to resume my spot on the futon.

This morning, my ride back to the tent didn't wake up until noon; so I had a bit of a late start.

I walked most of the way today, finding that this road is not a great one for rides nor for walking; tiny shoulders all over again. But about five miles from Salem, a repair van pulled over. Oddly enough, he was the same man that I had asked a question of in Akron the day before. He was on his way home and offered a ride into town.

On the way in, he made a couple calls to find out where I could stay. He perked up after a short conversation with his pastor, and I relaxed a bit knowing that it was taken care of. Apparently, all of the church's here sponsor a program through the local police department to put up anyone walking through town. The officers gave me a voucher and I was directed to my own hotel room!

It feels so strange to be alone and not in a tent. And it's great to have my own bathroom and shower! I'd love to stay around another day, but the voucher is only good for one night.

This has been a particularily difficult couple of days. I am not worried about provision or God's mighty hand of direction, but there is an entirely different aspect my relationship with Him that I still feel like I'm missing. He has most definitely proven His power and grand authority in his orchestrating of my travels, and I have been amazed by that; however, on another level, I need to know that He is close; that he is intimate. Currently it almost feels as if God has been my corporate sponsor, planning my trip from his corner office far far away. And lately I have really desired to know what his friendship is like. To be honest, if I had to chose, I would opt for one moment of true intimacy with Him than all the free meals in the world. I know it's there, and I know that He wants it too.

This may be the reason that he is leading the second phase of this journey. I have told you that I am looking forward to the Appalachian Trail, and I truly feel like God is leading me to experience it; but not to walk, just to sit. I don't know how much time I will have before winter once I reach the trail, but I plan on taking all the time that I can to be with him in the mountains.

This will be a challenge given my very extroverted nature, and I know that I will have to wrestle with myself more than I would like, but what better time than now. I want to walk freely, and if I have to face all the darkness in my head to do that, Bring It On!

I Love Free Meals

Well folks, a couple days later and a few more miles down the road and I'm in Mansfield Oh; halfway across this lovely state. I am so excited as I start to see the scenery change from the endless miles of corn and more corn to a few rolling hills just hinting at the Appalatians to come.

My new family back in Van Wert brought me down the road to the town of Bluffton Oh, which consists of a truck stop and a, well, another truck stop. I headed down new Highway 30, and finding it to be a very busy 4 lane highway, I realized that it was a very slim chance that anyone would stop for me (realization: the faster we're going the less likely we'll stop.) I had a late start and after nearly 5 days off of my feet, I only made it 7 miles before stopping into a church with loud music blaring.

The youth pastor and his merry band were practicing for their upcoming high school retreat. I asked if he knew of a place that I could stay and after a couple failed concepts, he brought me to his grandfather-in-law's farm.

It was nearly dark already so I simply set up camp and went to sleep.

In the morning, I started out again on Hwy. 30 but this was the old 30. All the traffic from the busy four lane was diverted onto this 2 lane death trap for construction purposes. The 2 foot shoulder was hardly enough of a buffer between me and the thousands of semi trucks that dominated the road. And naturally, no one stopped.

About 14-15 miles later, I found the only business/restaraunt/anything around and I rested over lunch through the heat of the day only to set out again with 13 miles to the next town.

I got a short ride from another kind officer just several miles out of Upper Sandusky and welcomed the back seat of a squad car once again.

Once downtown, within minutes, I was offered a free meal at A.J.'s Heavenly Pizza. The owner made sure that I had my fill then tried to find a place for me to stay. With little luck on that front, I headed to the Library to check a couple things before they shut the doors. And who would have guessed it; those librarians found me a spot for the night.

I camped in the backyard of a retired couple who are helping out a family member and staying in her home because of her health. Normally this very vibrant couple is out on the road in the RV that is their home and has been for many years.

We went out for malts and had great stories to swap and being that conversation is one of my most desired commodoties, I was so very blessed.

I set camp on their lawn and eagerly awaited the breakfast they had offered in the morning.

After breakfast (fabulous pancakes) and a short sit at the coffee house, I was out again and looking for old 30. I followed all the signs and everything seemed to make sense untill I ended up on another 4 lane madhouse. I wasn't about to backtrack so I just kept pressing on down the new 30 again.

I had just read in Matthew where Jesus says to his diciples that if they had the slightest faith and did not doubt, they would receive anything they ask for in prayer. Experiment time: I asked God for a ride, knowing the slim chance on this type of road, then did the best I could not to doubt it. I even made up a song about how my ride was-a-comin. Four minutes later, I was picked up by a kindly woman and her daughter headed to a baby shower here in Mansfield.

Before the night was over, they had brought me to McDonnald's, found me a place to stay, (with the couple having the baby) treated me and the couple to pizza, and rented a movie that we could all watch together.

It's fascinating how normal this is all beginning to feel. It's almost hard for me to remember all the exciting things that God has done because it's beginning to seem common. Now, somehow, I never want to loose the excitement to see God provide, and the joy at it's happenning, but I am rather glad that moments like that have lost the element of surprise. I have come to simply expect God to do exactly what He said He would, and that is to be expected. I know that it will take different shapes every day and sometimes it's later than I would like, but His provision will be there. And even if there is a night where I have to wander the streets till sunrise, I know that He has a plan in it all (though I'm sure that I wouldn't be all that happy about it.)

Response to inquisitive poster:

Someone posted a question (somehow under my own name) asking how I introduce myself to people. Well, most the time it sounds like "Hi, I'm Chris." Very rarely does the conversation end there in light of the huge backpack that is permanently attatched to me. When they ask where I'm headed, I tell them exactly that. For the most part, I have held off mentioning the fact that I left without money, food, or cell phone, unless the topic comes up or they ask for for stories from my trip.
Why would I hold that back? Simply because I don't want to feel like I am manipulating anyone into providing. If I did that, it would be entirely to easy for me to rationalize this entire experience and say that my charm (or lack there of) saved me instead of God.

Right now, I am staying another night here in Mansfield, though I am getting increasingly excited about getting to the Appalation Trail. My qualms about taking rides has fallen by the wayside, and I'm looking forward to getting to the mountains as fast as I can. So I will soon be off again, and headed toward Canton to stay the night with someone that I met while passing through Madison what feels like ages ago.

Thank you all for your prayers and posts. I hope to see everyone soon!

Christopher Andrew.

Loosing Ground and Loving It

So I'm back in Van Wert......

When I left this town, I had the hardest time walking away from this new community that I'd found. The family that I had stayed with told me that if I wasn't too far away by Wednesday, that I could give them a call and they would pick me up for their 4th of July party. My prayer on the road was to find a place to camp in the next town of Delfos (only 15 miles down the road) so that I could make it back for the party, and if that was not the case, that I would be able to see these people again soon.

I made it into Delphos at 11 am to wander the town looking for some lunch. The first place to open up was a bar called Johnny A's. I started talking with Stacy, the owner/bartender. She was a very sweet woman with a personality well suited for leadership. She reminded me a little of Reba McIntire, accent and all.

Stacy was so excited to hear all the details of my trip and brought her young daughter over to hear my tale as well. She assured me that I would have a place to camp on her boyfriend's lawn and refused to let me pay for my meal.

At the suggestion of another waitress (Thoma (sp?)), she called the editor of the Delphos Herald and within the hour, I was interviewing for a story in the local paper. I will post the link for the story as soon as I get it.

I spent the day with Stacy and Kieth seeing all that Delphos had to offer. There was a celebration in the park with a band playing my favorite covers, rides, and carnival games. Later, we went to a party hosted by a friend of theirs.

I was already tired by this point, and felt a little out of place among all of these old friends, so before the party moved on to Johnny A's, I went to my tent to turn in. It was a rather lonely night, but I was confident that I would see my friends in Van Wert the next day.

In the morning, I was up and packed before Kieth made an appearance, so I took off to find breakfast.

I found a place named Jim's, a quaint Midwestern breakfast joint with a German theme. After sitting for an hour or so, I packed up to leave. As I picked up my pack, the owner asked where I was headed. When I told her my destination, she immediately picked up the tab. Two free meals in Delphos.

I called my friends in Van Wert right after and waited at the gas station for a ride. I was so glad to come back to this place and to see all of my new friends (and my new adopted Ohioan family).

I had a great time at the party. Great food, hours of volleyball, and a great 'legal' fireworks display. Everyone was glad to see me again and several are convinced that I'll never be able to leave. Part of me agrees. But I will be off again today and on down the road towards Lima.

I am looking forward to the rest of the trip, though it will be hard walking away from Van Wert a second time. Though this already feels like the last leg of my journey and I'm not ready for it to be over yet. But I can rest in that I still have two states left and they're the longest ones yet; not to mention that I hope do take some time on the Appalachian Trail.

There is so much left to experience, and I still don't know what to expect except to be confident that provision will be there.

Thanks Sooo much Van Wert!! I hope to see you all again soon!!

Christopher Andrew.

Patriot for Now

From the Library in Decatur In, I decided to walk on a little ways and see where the road brought me. The next town was Van Wert Ohio at over thirty miles away, but I figured that I could walk for a few more hours before camping for the night.

With so many hours of daylight, I walked several miles before getting a short ride that brought me 6 miles outside of Van Wert. So I headed for town.

Four miles outside of town, an old fifteen passenger van pulled over and offered a lift. His occupation: chauffeur to the Amish. This young man brought me into town and dropped me off at a church that his father-in-law would be attending for a recovery program in less than an hour all the while assuring me that he would offer me a place to stay.

I wandered in to town a while thinking the recovery group may not be the best bet for a camping spot. After dinner, and attending a party in the park talking to everyone I could, I left discouraged with no offers on the table and headed back to the church for help. I attended the group and was immediately welcomed; I was amazed by the kindness and openness of these people. They were not hesitant at the site of a vagrant and were quick to make me feel like part of the family.

After group, one of the leaders offered a place to stay; not on his lawn, but in his house with his family. Turns out that this man is the father in law of my Amish employed friend from before.

I have been here three nights.

I was planning on leaving the next morning but there church bible study had an event that I just couldn't pass up.

"Chicken Pickin"

Midwest Experience #2 (the first being the lactating goat)

Chicken pickin is the process from live chicken to frozen meat; oh yea, the whole process. This includes the chase, the makeshift guillotine, boiling, plucking, cleaning, and butchering, and with forty chickens to be 'taken care of' I was able to experience every bit of the process. Now, for someone who has been vegetarian for a year up until this trip, I must stay, I handled it like a champ. At least that's what I let everyone believe, (no one could tell that I was holding down a breakfast I didn't even eat.)

I stuck around for church yesterday; both morning and night service. And by this point, everyone in the church knows my name or at least that I'm "that walking guy" and I'm so blessed to be a part of their fellowship for even this short while.

After night service was a mad dash to a town called Defiance (it's actually called defiance, and so is it's college) for an amazing fireworks display, the whole family in tow. The crowd was full of oo's and aw's and bursting with patriotism. I have always loved to see entire communities gathering for this occasion. This is the one time every year that strangers, friends, neighbors, and bitter enemies celebrate one common theme together. No other holiday can claim that.

I am not a patriot.

Not that I'm anti-American, in fact I am very proud of the ideals that this country was founded on, "give me your tired, you hungry, your oppressed, etc." But in the midst of trying to kick out immigrants and the presence of our own tired, hungry, and oppressed, I just don't see it anymore. Not to mention my lack of enthusiasm about a war being pawned off as God's justice instead of our own greed. I'm just not about to sing the praises of this country or pledge myself as anything but Christian. I'm not a crazy extremist liberal or anything, it just doesn't make sense to me. One thing is true though, if all American experience was like this weekend, I would be the loudest of patriots.

I have been completely amazed at how very welcoming this family has been to me. Not only was I invited to spend the night, but encouraged to stay several days. Regardless of their busy household (their collegiate son and teenaged brother along with three grandchildren) they have certainly made me feel right at home. It's almost a strange thought to leave them tomorrow as it seems I've been here for much longer. They have truly blessed me.

I will be back on the road tomorrow morning looking forward to the next point of God's providence. It's all up to Him.

Christopher Andrew.

Wisdom of a Child

I am writing this post from a library in Decatur Indiana. I arrived here early this afternoon after spending the night with another set of my parents college friends in Huntington. The weather is absolutely beautiful and a welcome change given the rains of the past couple days.

I found a coffee house and have been relaxing there for a little over an hour deciding whether to stay here or press on before I lay down for the night.

There is a moment that keeps coming back into my mind and it's a story from two nights ago. In my last post, I mentioned that I was staying at a home with four very vibrant children. Soon after I arrived and was welcomed by this energetic bunch, their 8 year old son was so excited about my journey and God's provision that he went searching for a gift for me. After several minutes he appeared in the living room with a handfull of change. I couldn't imagine a child giving me the contents of his change jar and genuinely said, "You don't need to give me anything, God will provide." To which he replied "maybe God is using me to provide for you." And there I sat, silenced by the wisdom in an eight year old boy. All I could do was hold out my hand and fill my pocket with his precious gift.

I have been amazed at how stubborn my heart is. I, who left with nothing, saw God provide for everything in gifts of food and money. Yet, when the money that I have starts to diminish, I still have this stubborn fear that without money, I can't go on. How can I, who has been so blessed, even begin to doubt. With this in mind, God pressed it on my heart how much he has blessed me and will continue to do so; so I do not need to fear blessing others with the gifts He has given. There is still part of me that is very afraid to give out of the little that I have, but I am praying to meet people who have a very specific need that I can meet.

My promise to God this morning was that I would bless the first person to introduce themselves to me today. That person was the owner of the coffee house who is the self procalaimed sole liberal in this town. After talking with him, I could not tell if he had any specific need that I could meet, but I had made a promise and could not walk away without leaving a sizeable tip.

Often I wonder if there are times when God is simply aksing me to trust, to step out in faith, just to see if I will. Like Abraham who was aksed to sacrifice his only son (but much less dramatic). Without knowing the reason, Abraham obeyed God and would have done the deed had God not stayed his hand. God's question in all of that was, will you trust me? I love what is often said about Abraham in the scriptures, "He believed God and it was credited to him as rightousness."

God has proven Himself and even though I have little, God provides out of the riches of His kingdom and I will not worry.

Is not life more important than food.

Christopher Andrew

I Milked a What?!

I MILKED A GOAT!

I wish that I could end the blog right there. Because I am sure that all the other phrases that I come up with to describe yesterday could not compare with the sentance, "I milked a goat."

I had a few miles in before the first kind offer for a ride, and in trying to figure out whether I should be accepting them or not, I kindly refused. A few more miles and I waved on another driver. Right after the second driver left, I began thinking about the great opportunity that I had to show them God in action. And we're back to the dilema. Here's the decision that I've come to:

I have no idea what I'm doing.

The third gentleman who stopped was a Christian fellow, and I love it when Christians stop. What a great way to show the love of Christ by picking up a stranger in need. I am sure that Jesus today, if he wasn't a vagrant himself, would drive a fifteen passenger van (running on vegetable oil of course) simply to have room to pick up any hitchhikers or silly little vagrants like me. So all that to say, I took the ride.

He dropped me off 15 miles down the road and I started walking straight into a storm. Well not four or five miles more, I was praying for God to just hold off the rain untill I reached a restauraunt that a bilboard kept promising. Just before the first drop fell, that same Christian driver came back around. I never expect to see people a second time. So I hopped in the truck and we took off for Plymouth.

Some friends of the family had found me a place to stay in Plymouth that I was very much looking forward to. Though being that I came into town a little early I spent most of the afternoon sipping ab endless cup of coffee at a ribs joint called Bob Evans. I'd never heard of it before, but apparently they're like the plague around here. My Plymouth friend came to pick me up and brought me back to spend a night with his family, on their beautiful family farm.

I never spent much time on a farm but I always admired the work and dedication that they required. So I thought I'd dive right in. There wasn't all that much to do last night, but we put up several fence posts and then, oh yeah, I milked a goat. I fell in love with their farm house and their family. The parents and their three kids live without a television or the internet. They read, play cards, ride horse, and take care of the farm resposibilities. They find plenty to do, and seem to have a beautiful intimacy and now that I think of it, an amazing contentment about their lives. See folks, it can be done!

Anyways... I left early this morning and before long had a ride to Warsaw. The Farm family had contacted a friend here to find another bed for the night. The car ride was a divine appointment and a pleasure to talk with, but then I found myself in Warsaw with nothing to do for many hours. Alas, there was a coffee house and the hours flew by.

I'm now in Warsaw with another sweet family; complete with four kids and a lot of energy. I'm so glad to be indoors as the sky looks quite thunderous right now. My stomach is full, my heart is happy, and my patience has been tested with this dial-up connection. It's time for bed.

Goodnight all!

Christopher Andrew

Summer Nights in Suburbia

Well, I've had a lovely rest here in St. John Indiana, though not all of it was rest. The couple that I'm staying with was looking forward to my arrival to help out around the house. They are expecting a brand new baby girl in a week and had yet to paint the new addition's room. The project turned from just painting the walls a solid pink to decorative vines and flowers. Then, not to have their son left out, I was asked to paint a small mural of a train across his wall. The projects were right up my alley and a great way to pass the time.

The joy of it is that one of the neighbors had been wanting to do a similar project and she was more than willing to take advantage of my presence in their community. So today, I painted flowers in thier young daughter's room to my hearts content. But the most exciting part of this bit of providence is that these were all paying gigs. I'm almost regretting my departure tomorrow knowing that there are other neighbors who would be more than happy to pay for my services. Though painting decorative roses and choo-choo trains has never been on my list of things to do with my gifting; I may have to reconsider seeing what a market there is.

I have not seen much of the town of St. John, and what I have seen has not been of note. But this community has a very special charm about it that seems ripped from a simpler time. This is a brand new development and all the residents have only been here for several months. Mostly young families with children all around, they take full advantage of the adjacent backyards (and the one home with a swing set). Tonight we sat on the driveway in lawnchairs for what seemed like several hours. Neighbors came by and we talked through the sunset when all the children started chasing fireflies.

I have often lamented the loss of that neighborly connection that promised bunt cakes and brownies for the newcomers and babeques and lemonade all summer long. There is a treasure in a world like this where home is not just our four walls, but our block. And our family is more that just the ones you're required to feed but all those walking thier dogs and sitting on thier porches down the street. There is safety here and a genuine care for one another. What once was such a common sight has been lost to picket fences and brinks home security systems.

What else have we lost in our fear?

Tomorrow I must leave before my feet get soft and the blister phase returns. I am looking forward to heading out again, and trying to change my perspective on the time I have. I am currently over a month ahead of schedule, so there is no need to rush. But my mind is so engrained to set linear goals like 20 miles a day so that I can track my progress and feel okay about myself. Maybe things aren't always achieved in a linear, goal oriented. progress monitoring fasion; whoah, did you feel that paridigm shift?

I love you all, and congrats Ryan on your grad party! I heard it was quite the event!

Is the Treasure Worth the Cost?

Well, the city that frightened me most was a breeze thanks to the Metra Rail Line. I am through Chicago and currnelty hunkered down in St. John Indiana. I have been here for two days already and feeling quite rested. For those of you who were on the edge of your seat, I apologize for posting so late.

I admit that I was anxious and frightened at the prospect of walking through Chicago's many miles. I have seen the pension for people in large cities to ignore me competely and offer little help or consolation when I am in a bind. So naturally, my fear grew as I came to the largest city yet knowing full well that I would have no country to escape to for many days. So after finding the train into the city, I stayed the night and quickly found another rail to take me out.

The morning that I found myself in downtown unfamiliarity; I was suprised at how very small I felt. Everything was literally and metaphorically towering over me; with obvious applications such as the Sears Tower, but more subtle ones were insecurity and fear. Everything was dark in daylight and colored sinister in my head. Once I had a place to stay and my heart relaxed a little, I found that Downtown Chicago is incredibly beautiful, and from what everyone says; one of the safest areas in town. There was a free dinner that night at the hostel provided by the girlscouts (who knew they made more than cookies) where I met three Australians all traveling alone and looking for something to do. Well we had a grand night. We had a couple drinks at the sports bar (Pepsi for me) then picked up some coffee and headed for some deep conversation by the Grant Park Fountain. That's when I felt at home.

I would have loved to stay a couple days just to explore but I had dwindling funds and already knew that I would need money for a train in the morning. But this brings me back to the dilema.

I know that God would have done amazing things to provide for me in Chicago, finding me places to stay and kind families with free dinners. But my fear got the best of me. So now I sit in Indiana wondering what I missed and whether the train was God's provision or simply me running away. I feel like God is giving me that choice where ever I go. The easy way is bumming rides and finding beds with family friends; I would get to Philidelphia much sooner than expected but wouldn't find that intimacy with God that I truly desire. The harder choice is walking and trusting taking my time with him and facing the darkness in my head. I know which option involves more growth and personal change, but I also know that I really want the best of both worlds and if I have to settle, easy has priority.

So I apologize to all of you for all the stories that I was too scared to experience. My prayer for so long has been "God give me stories" and I feel like I just missed a few chapters that would have been amazing to share. Though God is sufficient and I have many miles yet to go. I am sure that I won't be short of some tall (but true) tales for all of you when I've reached my destination, and I almost tremble as I ask God for many more volumes after that.

I will stay in Indiana for several days spending time with old friends and helping with projects around the house. I am so relaxed here right now that I am very borderline lazy. I hope that I don't get too comfortable.

Point of Prayer.

If you have not heard already, the community that I plan on connecting with in Philly, suffered a terrible disaster. After a fire began in a factory down the street, it soon became out of control and burned eight homes including that of The Simple Way. From what I know, no one was injured, but there was a considerable loss in damage all around. Please keep these families and The Simple Way in prayer as they will need provision and guidance in the coming weeks and months.

For more information on the fire and how to donate to the families in need, check out www.thesimpleway.org.

christopher andrew.

Red Sky in the Morning

So I actually just wrote this incredible posting for this heading, unfortunately, I am on a timed computer in a youth hostel, and as I was rushing to sign my name and save the post, my 20 minutes was up. So I get to write it again. YAY.

And so the testing begins.

It's so easy to say that I'll trust the Lord in any circumstance that He will provide and protect. But it's a whole different animal when I walk into a city that could care less about the stange vagrants coming through down. Its interesting that the more people there are in a city, the more deffensive, the more lonely, the less real, they seem. I wonder who all of us are when we meet strangers.

Well I'm writing this post from a youth hostel in downtown Chicago, and to be honest, I'm still shaking a little at the prospect of this huge city. I am glad to have a place to call base and I'll probably stay for a few nights, but I am still a stranger amongst thousands in a place that feels wild.

I arrived here on a train that looked entirely too appealing after getting a very late notice place to stay last night. After leaving my campsite on a quiet farm in the wake of a very lonely night, I headed out under a beautiful red sky. But we all know what that means. I was resting outside a liqour store just after crossing the border into Illinois. It was late, and I was headed straight into a storm that folks on the news claimed was the worst they had ever seen. The man who found me invited me into his home which was an apartment on the back of a garage without bed or bedroom. His girlfriend welcomed me as we swapped stories and they kept repeating, "we've been there." I was so glad to have a place as I am now in this hostel; but I'll admit that I was afraid. For those people who have praised my trust in God, please know that my I am no better than any. Like I said. It's so much easier to talk than to believe in frightening places.

But God has protected and provided. I know that He will take care of me, even as things get more difficult though I'm sure my hands will get shakey from time to time.

Thanks so much for all your prayers, I love you and miss you all!

Christopher Andrew.

The Fast Track

This morning, the couple I was staying with brought me nearly thirty miles down the road for coffee and a lovely send off. I was so excited to get back on the road for this next leg of the journey across Wisconsin and into Madison just under 100 miles away. I had estimated at least seven days trek across the state, assuming that I walked the whole way, and I was looking forward to the adventure of it.

Tonight, I am writing this blog from Madison.

Obviously I didn't walk the whole way and I was blessed with several rides. I was picked up by a range of people; from the road biker who had been stranded with a flat tire the week before when no one stopped to help and had vowed to pick up the next person he saw, to the fresh high school grad that has picked up the 'picking up' habit from his dad. I even had a short ride on a horse drawn carriage in the middle of their ride for a cure for some major incurable.

There are two parts of me battling right now; the one is so glad to have a ride and elated at the idea of walking into Philly a month early; the other is afraid that I am missing out on what God wants me to see by flying by it at 60 mph.

When I had started this trip, I partly imagined myself fasting for long periods of time when nothing was provided, and scrounging for places to stay. The image in my head was that of a road weary traveler in torn up clothes, tangled beard, and skin toughened to leather by the sun. Apparently my romantic imagination is rather bleak. So I can't help but wonder; 'am I cheating?' or 'am I taking the easy way out?'

At the core of me, I really want to experience all that God has for me on this journey. And I'm sure that I will wrestle with questions like this not only for the rest of this trip, but even my life. I simply have to trust that His guidance will correct me when He needs to and keep me in the plan He has.

One thing that I am finding is that some will assume (christians and otherwise) that I am simply in the seeking 'phase' of my life. And partly that is true. I only wince at the idea that there will be a time that I stop seeking. I am convinced that there is always more to be found and if I stop and rest convinced that I have all the answers, then what great treasures will I miss? God's promise to us is if we seek then we will find. There is no shelf life on that promise and no end to the knowledge, experience, or life that He has to offer. So let us always seek that we may always find.

There is more; there is more; there is more.....

I am now staying with family friends here in Madison who just gave me a beautiful tour of the city. I absolutely love university towns. From the quaint coffee houses to the music scene, everything seems so full of life and possibility! We walked the streets downtown amid time tested architecture from an age when ornate was the norm, down to the campus and the lake with a patio full of people awaiting the live music selection for the evening. I am not sure yet whether I am a country boy or a city kid, but I do love this place.

I plan to stay a day or two to explore and get reacquainted with these friends that I haven't seen in 14 years (we have a bit to catch up on) before moving on to my next leg in which I have to cross two state lines before I find another bed.

Blessing on all of you, I love you and miss you; unless I don't know you, but I'm sure I would if I did.

Christopher Andrew.

Catching the Bug

Well folks, I made it to La Crosse. Only God knows how I'm here already. I really didn't think it possible. Especially as I was walking at 7:30 pm just trying to make it to the 'booming' town of Centerville still 24 miles away.

Regardless, I made it here last night and I'm staying with some family friends who have been more than welcoming. This will be the fourth night in a row that I will sleep in a bed. I had no idea what to expect on this trip, but I couldn't have imagined that it would be as comfortable as some of these beds.

I don't know if I'm catching the bug for this walking thing, but right now, I am really excited to get back on the road tomorrow. Not so much for the long day in the sun, but just the anticipation of how the Lord will provide tomorrow night and the night after that. He has proven that He will take care of my needs, so rather than worry, I am starting to look forward to it.

God is so supremely good.

Christopher Andrew.

Pepin! (just like the musical, minus all the music)

I've never actually seen Pippen and don't know what it's like. But regardless, if there was a town that deserved its own singing, dancing, commemorative production, it would be this town of Pipen Wisconsin.

Yesterday, I bagan my walk from the wayside rest where my mad dash from Bay City ended. All along the road, historical markers and scenic outlooks became the perfect rest stops. I met bikers, learned the history of Maiden Rock Wi, and found a place to stay for the night all during these stops; but the latter is the greater story.
Resting beneath the historical marker sign nearly 4 miles befor Pepin, I was savoring some reprieve from the sun. Two young women stopped by on their road bikes to ask where I was headed. When I told them my geographical finale, one gal asked if I was headed to the Simple Way!? Well, color me dumbfounded that she had even heard of it!

As it would be, a friend of hers had spent some time there and still works with them on other projects.

They invited me to lunch where they worked in Pepin and promised to pick up the tab. By this point I could nearly run to Pepin out of my excitement! I was thrilled to have somewhere to look forward to and a couple names to go with it.

Just before the town I'd stopped at another rest to find a vacationing retired couple and talked with them a while. They offered me a ride into town and to the restauraunt called the Harbor View.

The view was spectacular! The Harbor View was down by the docks that serviced Lake Pepin. The couple who drove me down decided to stay for dinner with me, so I greeted the young women I'd met earlier and we all sat down to browse the menu.

I had no idea the type of meal that I would be getting. Turns out that the Harbor View has been voted the best area dining by Twin Cities publications and it's not even in the same state!

I talked with the lovely retirees over my marlin, coffee, and later some chocolate torte. My meal couldn't have been less than forty dollars. And as I sat by the docks watching the sunset after dinner I knew that I didn't deserve any of this, and to God be all the thanks.

One of the young women, who was also our waitress, had invited me to stay with her and her husband that night. So after close, she and her husband, met me outside then drove me to their place in Stockholm.

I am continually amazed that I met this young couple here in smalltown Wisconsin. These young christians have such a similar heart to mine in so many different ways (they even have a little tree-hugger in them). Artists, adventurer's, idealists, and more.

They live in a majestic old colonial home (not theirs, though they are currently the only residents) while another friend lives in a refurbished barn in the back yard. This morning after an awesome breakfast, I asked to stay another day. I immediately felt that these were good friends, and they were glad to have me a while longer.

We spent the morning tubing down the Rush river, though do not be deceived, there is no rush in this river. We floated and talked as if we knew each other well, as our arms were sunburnt and our hands froze in the 'chilly' waters. This one or two mile stretch of the river took two hours to meander down in our tubes; getting stuck in the shallows, and tipped in the quasi-rapids.

I am incredibly relaxed and at peace as I write this from their home computer and I am so excited that I have met them.

God has blessed this trip in so many ways, and I know that none of it is my doing. So thank you God! I don't always understand you, but I love you!

Christopher Andrew

Tale of Two Cities

I'm in Wisconsin!

I haven't been able to post for a few days, so I will try and catch you up in the next two entries.

My Granparents so graciously brought me to lunch the day that I left. And as we came to their favorite restauraunt in Stillwater, Mn, it was closed for the season. So dang, we had to drive farther south to the town of Afton (nearly three days walk from where we started). After a beautiful walk along reclining pastures, I crossed over the St. Croix River into the Dairyland.

Just as I turned the corner into Prescott, I met the sweetest woman who was hostessing for a bar downtown. She wanted to know everything about my journey then insisted on helping in any way she could. After directing me to a cafe and talking the owner into buying me a drink, she then brought some muscle relaxing ointment, a bible verse, nutritional supplements, then even found me a place to stay.

When she had handed me her phone number repeating 'If there is anything you need,' I went to find the patch of grass that would be home for the night. There were four young men at the house doing normal small town things (launching tennis balls into the street). The five of us set up a bonfire and they brought out pizzas and other great health foods. I just relished the time sitting around the fire getting to know them and talking about God and life. God bless you guys! I'll write you when I get a chance.

The town of Prescott was picturesque. I kept imagining 15 years down the road, when somehow I had come back to Prescott, bought a little brick house, and moved in with my wife and a baby on the way (all imaginary of course).

But the next morning, I left at dawn towards the second city of this story.

This section of road has the most incredible scenery thus far. And I was enjoying the views all day long. During a stop for water, I was invited into a couples home for a lunch of fried chicken, pasta, and whatever leftovers they had. They filled what little space I had left in my pack with treats then decided to drive me a few miles down the road. And I was so very grateful.

Only 3 miles of walking later, I was in Bay City; which I thought would be my night's destination. God orchestrated things beautifully and soon I had a place to stay (even in a bed!) a meal, and a chance to do laundry.

When the women who owned the home went into town, I relaxed while watching a movie on their couch until I bagan to feel very uneasy. I wish I could describe it better, but it was almost as if everything around me became suddenly unnatural. The town the people, the home I was in, soon felt as if they weren't real. Like they existed, but wouldn't be found on a map or in any phone book; and if I left, I would never be able to find the place again. And I was the only one who didn't belong.

Around 8:30 pm I could feel God's leading saying "get out of this town and fast." I still don't understand why but I began to pack as fast as I could before common sense talked me out of it. I quickly scrawled a note of thanks and headed out the door.

I explained as best I could to the next door neighbor and, thank God, he drove me out of town. Wether he understood, or simply thought it best to get this lunatic out of the city limits, I'm not sure. I spent the night in a wayside rest while my head wrestled for answers until sleep beat me down.

Then on to the most beautiful place and people on my journey thus far; but you'll have to wait until tomorrow for that.

Christopher Andrew.