How I Learned Faith

  
    It's finally time to tell the story of how I learned to live by faith.  I have waited over 3 years to share it, never quite knowing how to put it into words.  I still don't really know how I'm going to do that, but that's kind of  the point of the whole story.  We don't always know how we are going to accomplish something, but the Lord will lead us there if we simply follow His direction. 

   In 2009, I was still a teacher.  I had finally got smart about doing continuing education and learned to look for workshops that were not only interesting, and applicable to my work, but that also had additional incentives for completion, like PAY.  In November of that year, I scoured the offerings from the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) because at that time, they had many week-long institutes for teachers that offered a stipend to cover travel expenses.

     I love the Appalachian Mountains.  Just love them, but I don't know why.  As I was cruising the internet looking for potential professional development opportunities,  I stumbled upon an institute offered by NEH in Boone, North Carolina that was about the Blue Ridge Parkway.  It was a week long in July 2010.  I applied in late 2009 and waited anxiously until spring 2010, when those who were accepted would be notified. 

     Since there was nothing else to do during this time, except for teaching and holidays and such, I started playing around on Ancestry.com.  I stumbled upon some interesting information about my paternal grandfather that I never knew.  I learned he was from Meat Camp, North Carolina in Watauga County.  Yep, there really is a place called "Meat Camp."  Anyway, it turns out Boone is also in Watauga County, just a stone's throw away from Meat Camp.  This made the possibility of attending the NEH Blue Ridge Parkway workshop even more exciting.

    While I was waiting over the winter, a very good friend said she would like to go along to camp with me.  I was already planning on taking my son, just to hang out while I wasn't in class.  This trip was shaping up nicely. 

     Sometime in the spring, I received a notice that I was on a waiting list if any of the class attendees should cancel their plans.  In other words, the program was full and I did not make the first cut.  I was disappointed, but didn't give it much more thought.  I figured it was over with. 

     Two days later, I received a phone call from the program director.  One of the potential attendees had to decline and I would be able to attend if I was still interested.  Of course I would not pass up this opportunity!  I accepted and proceeded to finish my school year, anxiously awaiting summer.

     As luck would have it, money was tight in the month prior to the trip.  My vehicle needed a lot of work.  I could pay to have the vehicle repaired, but then would not be able to make the trip.  I decided not to attend.    I had a strong feeling that I was not supposed to give up, yet I didn't know what else to do.  I announced my decision to my husband, but I would need to wait until morning to notify the program director.

     Later that evening, my husband suggested I use his truck for the trip rather than my vehicle.  This sounds like a logical solution to most people, but I would never have even considered using his truck.  I just don't like to drive it because if something goes wrong with it, I don't want to be the one responsible.  He's not weird about it, but I am.  I just don't like to feel like mishaps are my fault. 
But since he offered, and I was really, really feeling like I was supposed to attend this particular workshop for some unknown reason, I accepted and reversed my decision to bail out. 

     Time to attend the workshop came.  Money was still tight.  I still could have bailed out, but something was driving me to go anyway.  My parents each gave me some money to make the trip (the pay from the program wasn't going to be awarded until after the trip).  The money was enough for me to make the drive and pay for my campsite for the week.  My son and I pulled out of our driveway early on a Saturday morning with all of our gear, except for one thing:  We would need to buy a tent somewhere on the way.  And it needed to be cheap yet big enough for us to live in for a week. 

     I had no idea how we were going to buy food or fuel once we got to Boone.  I just knew I had to get there and figure it out day by day.  I should have been scared, but I wasn't.  By this time, I knew I was supposed to be there and that there was a bigger purpose for this trip than simply professional development.

     We got to the campground where we would be spending the week, set up, got dinner and went to bed.  The next day we explored a little and then I had to attend the first class meeting that evening.  When I returned to camp, my friend had arrived and she brought a friend along and a very special travel companion, a dog named "Jenna."

     Money wise, we ended up being ok for Sunday, Monday, & Tuesday. But every night I prayed and prayed.  In my head, going to sleep, I would sing "God Will Take Care of You."  It comforted me and kept me from worrying.  In the back of my mind, though,  I knew Tuesday evening, my husband's truck was going to need fuel.   I still had no idea how I was going to get it.  My 16-year-old son was not as calm as I was about it, but I knew somehow, some way it would be ok.  Still, neither of us talked about it in the presence of our friends.  We just enjoyed each other's company and told stories in the evenings after I returned from class. 

      One of the friends who had joined us randomly gave me money to pay for her part of the camping.  I had no expectation of this.  I was totally just glad to have her join me for this adventure and did not even think about having anyone else pay anything.  But being in the position I was, I accepted and was tremendously thankful, and I had enough money to buy gas for the truck and a few food items for one more day.

    Later that evening,  my son found a $25 gift card for Applebee's in the glove box of the truck.  Apparently,it was from the PTO of the school where I worked at the time.  I know I must have received it for teacher appreciation week at some point in my career, but I honestly only vaguely remembered receiving it a year or two earlier and I certainly had no idea how  it turned up in my husband's truck.  I figured if worst came to worst, we could use that for a meal at some point during the week.  I knew that God was looking out for me by now.  There was no other explanation.

     The next day, the other friend wanted to pay for her part of the camping for the week.  Now, this was really too much.  I certainly didn't expect that either.  But again, I reluctantly accepted and was thankful to have enough gas and groceries to get through the next day, which was Thursday.

     Friday was the last day of class as it turned out.  Originally, the schedule said it was Saturday, but what I didn't realize that the Saturday was just for people staying in the dorms to have a chance to get themselves together and be provided with a shuttle to the nearest major airport in Charlotte. 

     So, we made it to Friday!!!  We had class as normal on Friday.  That evening a final dinner was given for the participants and it was a pretty fancy deal.  I did not realize that our stipend checks would be given at the dinner.  But they were and I was one relieved chick!  Now I had more than enough money to get home and even take a little side trip to Townsend, TN. 

     This is where the story gets really good.

     By now, I was pretty amazed at all the blessings God had bestowed upon me to make this trip happen:  First, I wasn't accepted and then I was.  I had no trip-worthy vehicle, and then I did.  I had enough money to start the week, but not enough to get through the whole thing.  I made the trip on faith and God provided.  This was the only time in my life I had set out knowing fully that I did not have enough resources, yet went anyway and trusted that it would be provided.  And God did not fail me.

     Saturday morning, my son and I packed up and headed for Townsend, TN.  It wouldn't have been that long of a trip, but my son suggested taking the "scenic" route and traveling the Blue Ridge Parkway, stopping off to see Mt. Mitchell and then going through Asheville to get to Interstate 40.  Sounded like a grand plan to me. 

     We drove along.  As we neared Mount Mitchell (which is the highest point in the United States east of the Mississippi), I noticed the truck was not gaining speed or climbing hills well no matter how hard I pushed on the accelerator.  I wanted to panic, but tried to convince myself it was my imagination.  After the third try and losing speed, I had to admit to myself that we had a problem.
  
     I considered myself lucky to find a pull-off on this particularly winding part of the parkway.  I pulled off, my son told me I'm just not driving it right.  LOL.  He got out, checked under the hood, but of course found no problems.  He decided HE would drive and everything would be ok.  I sarcastically thought to myself "Good, glad I have an expert pickup truck driver with me.  All is well."  So we got back out on the road.  Everything seemed fine for the first mile or so.  Then, we came to more hill-climbing.  At this point, we also reached the entrance to Mount Mitchell State Park.  As soon as we turned onto the road leading to the mountain that is the highest point east of the Mississippi, we had no choice but to pull onto a very narrow patch of grass.  Now my son, the expert pickup truck driver had to admit there is a problem.  He was quietly freaking out. 

     As soon as he realized there was not much cell phone signal, he decided to be a little more verbal with his panic.   He tells me to call his dad.  I'm like "What good is that gonna do?  He's over 400 miles away??"  But I attempt to call anyway.  I was able to tell my husband what was going on and then the call was dropped and the signal did not return long enough to call him back.  We were on our own.

     The boy is continuing to panic.  I had to get mean and tell him "You can't freak out right now because I can't deal with that and the truck problem too, so suck it up!"  At the same time, I thought to myself  "The nearest tow truck is probably 60 miles away, no way they're gonna come up here to get us even if I do manage to get a call out.  No way.  I have no idea what we're gonna do." 

      Suddenly, my son's precious 16-year-old face lit up and he said "I KNOW WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT AND WE HAVE THE PART IN HERE TO FIX IT!!!!"  He said it with such conviction that I wanted really, really badly to believe him.  But seriously, who has spare parts in their vehicle?  And if we did have a spare part, what are the chances that it would be exactly the one that we needed?

      My son proclaimed "It's the fuel filter, I'm telling you.  And we have an extra one in here!"  We looked at each other silently for a few seconds, and then simultaneously jumped out of the truck, trying to avoid oncoming traffic.  We started unpacking ALL of our camping stuff from the backseat, piling it in the grass by the side of the road, trying to not let any of it tumble down the side of the hill.  Finally, at the bottom of the stuff and behind the back seat, my son pulled out the extra fuel filter that he said was there. 

     To make a long story short, he climbed under the truck, took off the old filter, put on the new filter, and the truck started and ran like a champ for the rest of our trip.  It was nothing short of miraculous. 

     The neatest thing about all of this was the location. The photograph at the beginning of this post shows the actual roadway where the big truck breakdown took place.  We couldn't have been any closer to "the heavens" in our part of the country.  We were in a very remote location.  We had the right part.  One of us knew how to replace the part, and it wasn't me.  All of these factors, and probably a few more details I'm forgetting, left me no doubt as to who had taken care of us. 

     And that's the story of how I learned what it is to have real faith.  Personally, I don't believe you really can have faith unless you have been through a situation where there is absolutely nothing else upon which to rely.  Having this experience has given me such a peace through every situation since.  I know that God truly can do everything.  I know that He sees things that I cannot.  I am thankful every day that He allowed me to experience such an incredible test of faith and that He gave me the peace to endure it and  to hold myself together and truly trust that He would provide.