Saturday, September 18, 2021                                  (today’s lectionary)
A Rule of life
A sower went out to sow his seed.
We decided to take a trip north yesterday, not to Illinois or anything, but to Georgetown, Texas, where Rachel with her blond hair took care of us at the Monument Café. Two weeks ago her hair was green, but she got tired of washing it in cold water, which was necessary to avoid the green dye running out into the sink.
The low-slung café on Austin Street with its wide windows on every wall, is fast becoming one of our favorite destinations. Where else can you get gluten free onion rings and chicken fried steak? It’s 30 minutes away with good traffic; will we make it there for gluten free buckwheat pancakes one of these mornings?
Rachel has two teenage twins, and she is surrounded in Georgetown by her mom and dad, her sister and her boyfriend. She is a happy person. You can tell she loves her work at the Monument Café.
I charge you before God, who gives life to all things, and before Christ Jesus who gave testimony for the noble confession, to keep the commandment without stain or reproach.
Twenty-five years later, in 2002, I revisited the Havasupai Indian Reservation, this time with our son Marc. We tracked our way across the desert with the help of, I think, one sign. A herd of cattle blocked our way for a few minutes, and we took pictures. Just as in 1976, we got to the trailhead later than we planned, and it was past dark when we walked through the village of Supai toward the campground. Marc was exhausted, and I wasn’t, which surprised us both.
After three days of hiking into the village and down to the Colorado River, reading, taking an IQ test together, and mostly lounging in the blue-green water beneath the waterfalls, cool as cucumbers in the desert heat, we packed our gear at dawn and hiked back up the canyon. That fifteen miles was tough on me. A bit after noon, I finally stuck my sweaty, heated, nearly broken head over the top of the mesa, and Marc was waiting for me with a cold Coca-Cola he bought from a Native-American woman. He was a server, even way back then. I pressed the can to my forehead.
The Lord is good, and his kindness endures forever, his faithfulness to all generations.
Marc drove and we headed away from the desert toward our at least superficially civilized world, stopped at a sweet café Mr. D’z in Kingman, which is still in 2021 serving perfect burgers, grilled buns, crispy French fries and home made root beer.  Marc played his music on the jukebox. When we flew into Las Vegas we had each picked out a few CDs before we headed into the desert. That music lifted Marc (and me) when we needed lifting on that trip. It illuminated us when we needed a little deeper light.
Know that the Lord is God, and he made us. We are his people, the flock of his pasture. Come with joy into the presence of the Lord.
We found a place to clean up our exceptionally dusty car, took it back to Vegas, spent another night at the Hard Rock Hotel, and flew home.
Our Lord Jesus Christ, blessed and only ruler, King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone has immortality, who dwells in unapproachable light and whom no human being has seen or can see, TO HIM be honor and glory and eternal power.
I remembered all this yesterday, talking with Margaret and Rachel, who was born in Tucson and has made a better home here in Texas. Marc has been a server in several fine restaurants. Rachel and Marc both love talking to people. Neither of them settled for careers that offer only money. In restaurants, the people come and go, they serve them and share themselves, and their lives are rich.
A sower went out to sow his seed.
(1 Timothy 6, Psalm 100, Luke 8)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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