Last Updated on August 27, 2024 by Chris and Lindsay
Hello Again!
If you read the last dispatch, you may remember how check engine lights and a freak hail storm in Nebraska made us doubt everything about our decision to leave Florida in late June to return to what has become our seasonal stop in the Black Hills of South Dakota.
I promised a story of a lovely miracle, so I will waste no time in returning to that chapter in life I call “humility.”
Note: Lindsay and I are unapologetically Christian. But we’re not in-your-face “Bible-beating” Christians. We see the world through the lens of our faith, and thus, it is impossible to share our updates with you without leaning into this faith. We hope our perspective and insights encourage you, regardless of your spiritual beliefs, and provide a genuine but gentle view of what we hope we present as a genuine Christian lifestyle – albeit one far from convention!
Although the tires of our motorhome fell into place in the same indentations in the campsite, we dug out for them two years ago, and Everest and Huckleberry took to rolling in the grass and chasing each other beneath the Ponderosa Pines that towered above us, our return to Custer State Park felt different.
It felt different because it was different.
Not only had I changed in the few months leading up to our decision to return here, but I had to confront spiritual and emotional issues that prevented me from fully trusting God in all of our circumstances. But also, my role in our return had changed.
Because we could not commit to returning until June, my boss-friend (as I like to call her) was forced to hire an Assistant General Manager (AGM) in my place. She warned me that he was not as organized as I was and did things quite a bit differently.
But I told her that I was different this year. I was in a season of humility. I just wanted to be a server in the restaurant, not a manager. I wanted to learn to follow someone else’s lead without challenging their authority or trying to change the situation.
Lindsay didn’t have much of a job either, which was strange because she had managed the lodge’s front desk one year and the gift shop the next. This year, she would work only part-time, driving the “Chuck Wagon” a few nights each week.
If I returned to Custer State Park in this fashion, I would immediately have to confront two things I have always struggled with: trying to control situations and anxiety over our finances.
We arrived on Saturday evening. The next morning, we watched church online and spent the day reacquainting ourselves with the backroads and dirt roads that made us fall so deeply in love with this part of the world.
On Monday morning, I wore my work clothes and clocked in as a server. This was particularly difficult because several of my colleagues were servers who had worked beneath my leadership the previous two years. Now, we rubbed shoulders together, trying to pretend it wasn’t awkward that I wasn’t the one making the schedule, posting weekly notes on our whiteboard, and otherwise helping them be the best servers that they could be.
Instead, I laughed about how I could now break all of the “rules” I used to have in place. Things like checking my cell phone or pretending like I was busy cleaning server trays or whatnot was fun again, in a way.
But I made very little money in my first few shifts. My interactions with my direct supervisor, who had taken some of the systems and processes I had built over the years but ditched most of them, were infrequent. It was like he was avoiding me. Or maybe I was avoiding him.
Still, I was committed to Lindsay and my decision to return, even though we had doubted whether we were supposed to be here this season.
By the fourth shift, I was distraught. In my downtime, I ran a few calculations to determine that it was virtually impossible for us not to have to dip into savings at the rate that I was coming up short on the dining room floor. The restaurant was not nearly as busy as it should be in July. And we had twice as many servers on the schedule than we needed.
At the end of that shift, I asked Lindsay if she thought we should leave and either return to Florida or go anywhere else where we might have a chance to keep our heads above water.
She said no. She said we needed to stay.
And when Lindsay speaks like this, I listen.
During my fifth and last shift as a lodge server, the seed of the lovely miracle was planted. I was seated at a patio table with four guests who were incredibly kind toward me. When I brought out their meal, they locked hands with each other, looked up at me, and asked me what they could pray for in my life.
I had heard stories of people like them. People who make other people feel uncomfortable by asking strangers what they can pray for in their lives.
But in nearly 25 years of serving food in restaurants off and on, not once had I ever been asked this question. And certainly not at a time when I desperately needed someone to pray for me.
I was caught off guard, which is when I think we are most honest in life. The only thing I could think of was the uncertainty of our financial situation and the thought in the back of my mind that Lindsay and I had made the wrong decision to return to South Dakota.
So I told them I would appreciate prayer for God’s provision, particularly financial blessings, in our lives. I shared the story of the dash lights, the devastating hail storm, and the ensuing doubt. As I stood there, hat in hand, each of the four strangers prayed for peace over me in this request.
Before I describe the miracle, I must say that I do not want you to think that I believe in any way that God is a genie in a bottle. I also do not subscribe to the “Prosperity Gospel,” which, in short, states that God blesses those people He chooses to bless because of something they do and withholds His blessings from those who do not do or believe a certain thing.
So whatever you think of God, I hope you only think of Love and of a father who loves His children and wants the best for them, regardless of how they feel toward Him.
I am not a father. For two years, I got to play one in a foster home with 24 children who looked up to me as much as they could as a father.
But if you are a father or a mother, you likely understand your unconditional love for your children, a love that knows no bounds and withholds nothing.
This is how I know my God, the way Jesus teaches us through his three years of documented ministry on earth. I know my God as one of Love, who takes an active interest in me even though I have (for over 30 years of my life) looked elsewhere for the things only He could provide.
Back to the lovely miracle…
As I walked the dogs through the forest the next morning I prayed for peace I once knew in passing, that I hoped would somehow be lasting. In these moments, I listen to the world around me, full of bird calls and chipmunk chirps, the wind in the pine trees, and the subtle lapping of the creek. I pay attention to my steps and the grinding sound of small rocks beneath my feet.
This is my peace.
Something in me told me to take my phone out of my pocket to say good morning to my boss-friend. It was strange; in the past two years, we had grown so close because we worked so closely together and shared life together. But this year, there was a separation between us. I knew I had to respect that I was not her right-hand man this time. So I had to limit how much I reached out in times like these, not to subvert the relationship she had with her new AGM.
But I missed my friend then, not thinking of her as my boss. As I took my phone out of my pocket, I was pleasantly surprised to see that she had texted me not one minute earlier.
“Think you’re ready to be my AGM again,” the note read.
I thought she was joking, but in the following minutes, I discovered that the “new me” had left unexpectedly in the middle of the night. Whether it was because I was there or because he did not have the same commitment and relationship to her that I did, I will never know.
But I knew that my prayer had been answered overnight—rather, the prayer of four strangers interceding on my behalf had been answered. All I had to do was accept the blessing that awaited me: the opportunity to step back into my management role and lead the staff that I knew could use me out in front rather than by their side.
After checking with Lindsay about what every husband should do under the circumstances, I gladly accepted the position. That same day, two other servers left, and suddenly, I was back in a familiar situation where my leadership had been forged in fire over the two previous seasons.
Accepting her offer was one of my best conversations with my boss-friend. It started with a hug and the promise that I was in it with her for whatever challenges we would face throughout the season.
I am not saying that a genie-God granted a wish. But a loving Father-God knew I was better suited to lead than follow in this situation. He knew that He had been conditioning me for years to step in when there was nobody else to do a job I was uniquely trained to do.
And for that recognition, there is no greater peace in life—to know beyond any doubt that despite what you might have gone through to get there, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
These last few weeks have not been without challenges. However, what I learned about my serving staff when I worked in the trenches with them enabled me to have a rapport with them as their supervisor. I am not the greatest leader in the world. I’m still learning so many things about making tough decisions and stepping up to responsibilities that are more easily pushed aside.
But I sense that, though it was just five days, God knew that I would come out of that time better prepared to step into this position where I could have a greater impact on the lives of my staff, our guests, and so many other people I would interact with as the Assistant General Manager of the lodge.
What happened to the dash lights and the hail storm dents in the CRV? I’ll tell you about those later.
For now, I want to leave you with the answer to the questions I posed in the previous update:
What is God’s will for our lives? And how do we know if we’re living it out?
I believe that God’s will for our lives is to seek Him in every circumstance and to learn to trust that He will fulfill every promise He has made. While circumstances will sometimes conspire against us, He is a loving Father-God who wants only the best for His children, those He has called in love from the beginning of time.
And we only know that we are living out this will when we find peace in every circumstance because we seek Him first, not as a last resort. Jesus always retreated into the wilderness after healing or teaching because He needed the connection with our Father-God, the same connection we are called into.
So, I hope that this note finds you at a time in life when you are willing to ask the most difficult questions that have the most simple answers. What is it that you have been called to do? Seek first His kingdom, and all these things will be added to you.
May you find encouragement now in knowing that our Father-God loves you the same as He loves me and has called you toward Him in one way or another.
As those four strangers prayed over me for the thing that most bothered my spirit and kept me from peace, I now pray you find peace in your circumstance and see the face of your Father-God on the other side of whatever is troubling your soul.
The dash lights still turn on, and my CRV is still dented. But what comes of these will also be a part of a greater story being told in and through me.
What lovely miracle are you patiently praying for now? On the other side of difficulty, Love collides with your circumstances and triumphs.
May your day be filled with peace.
Many thanks for continuing to be a part of our wander.
With love,
Chris & Lindsay + Everest + Huckleberry!
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