Biking Across America (22 page)
An email arrived in January. Would I be willing to come to the Mayo Correctional Institution in Mayo, Florida, to speak to the fourteen students receiving their GED degree? The prison has a
voluntary program for prisoners wanting to further their education, and the school instructor had sent the email. This was an invitation I couldn't refuse.
On my drive from Ohio to Florida, I recalled the day I had pedaled my bicycle up to the prison gates and faced those walls covered with razor wire. What was it like behind those walls? I was about to find out.
The instructor met me and we cleared security. (Apparently my speeding tickets had not been too grave a blot on my record.) Seated in the chaplain's office, we went over the program for the graduation ceremony. I had built my presentation around the things that the Appalachian Trail hike had taught me about life. Fourteen students were graduating, but I was told that other prisoners would also be attending. My book had been making the rounds among the inmates; many had either read or heard about my hike and preferred listening to me rather than sitting in their jail cell.
Almost one hundred inmates crowded into the chapel. My nervous system took emergency measures and my heartbeat quickened as I faced this gathering of humanity representing many races and religions. Murderers, thieves, and rapists sat waiting for my words. I've spoken to many groups, but this was by far the most unique group of men yet. It was also the most captive audience I've had.
God, give me the right words
, I prayed.
Whenever I'm confronted with stressful situations, I resort to my own brand of humor. Laughter just has a way of releasing pressure and stress. I thanked the men for inviting me into their gated community. It seemed like a decent place to live; security was good. Whew! They enjoyed the humor.
Speaking to these men was one of the most humbling opportunities I've ever been given. I compared the heavy pack I carried on the Appalachian Trail to the burden of sin and guilt we carry. I compared the sign at the summit of Mount Katahdin to the cross
where I dropped my heavy burden. “With Jesus in your hearts,” I told them, “you can be totally free behind these prison walls. Many folks are going about their lives outside prison walls, but are locked up in their own cells of unbelief.”
Following the graduation ceremony, I also spoke to a group of men attending classes to prepare for release from prison and reentry into society. Later, I asked the prison chaplain in charge of that class if he could detect which prisoners were likely to return to prison.
“I certainly can,” he replied.
“What's the key? What is the common characteristic in prisoners that causes them to go back to old ways?” I asked. His answer surprised me.
“Pride,” he said. “A person filled with pride believes he can do anything he wants to do and get away with it. He thinks he's at the top of the food chain and does not have to answer to anyone.”
That is a characteristic of many prisoners, including those who walk freely in society. Many are captives of their pride. Satan had heaven, until he gave in to his pride. That evil, the mindset of “I am, I will,” can imprison us quickly and completely if we are not on guard against it.
Unfortunately, I never met the inmate to whom I'd first sent my book, the man who had written a critique of my story and claimed not to believe in God. At the time of my visit, he was in solitary confinement for an infraction and was not permitted to attend. I found it interesting that a person who denies God had been so greatly used by God. Either you believe in coincidence after coincidence, or you believe God loves that young man so much that he won't give up on him. God will either continue to send agitators like me to prick his pride, or his stubborn pride will doom him. His soul is in the balance, and a decision waits.
That young man's decision is really not much different from the decision confronting all of us. What time is it in your life? Is
it time to make some changes? It is probably later than you think; but if you're reading this, there is just enough time to finish right.
On my flight back to Ohio after my bike ride was finished, I had glanced out the window and noticed thousands of tiny white clouds beneath the aircraft. A veritable cotton field floated in the sky. I thought about the cotton fields of Alabama, the flat plains of Kansas, and the moist forests of Oregon. Now I watched the panorama unfold below as, in only minutes, we flew over some of the countryside through which I had so laboriously pedaled a week ago.
A vantage point of twenty-five-thousand feet in altitude gave me a new perspective on the landscape I had previously observed from a bicycle seat. Distance will do that. At times, we do well to step back, review where we have been, and consider the direction in which we're headed.
Over four years had passed since my wife had moved to a new life. Then, I was gripped by the grief of my loss, and nothing made sense. Now, looking back over the past four years, I could see a picture starting to come into focus. It was clear to me that God called Mary home precisely on time. God had a message for me and a message he wanted me to pass on to you. The message of hope is that God is in control and is returning soon to take his children home. And God also wants folks to prepare for an unending life hereafter.
God dislodged me from my comfortable existence at home and work so that I would pay attention to these messages and deliver them to anyone who will listen. My subsequent hiking and bikingâwhat might look like simply walking and pedalingâwere actually huge jumps, leaps of faith into unknown and unmarked territory. The decisions to set forth on these journeys were more
difficult than you might imagine. Remember, I like routine and safety. But my choice to believe what God says has led me down a path of incredible adventures.
My hope is that you will also choose this narrow way that will lead you to an eternal home.
I await the call from Jesus: “Come home, son. It's time!” Someday the summons will be made for you too. How exciting that will be to reunite with loved ones who have gone before us, to have all our tears wiped away, and to know we will never again have to say good-bye or farewell.
Forever will have begun.
T
hanks to all the wonderful folks I met on my journey across America. I never imagined the amazing encounters I would have as I crossed this great country of ours. The heart of America is not in our capitol buildings, in our headlines, or in Hollywood. It's in the friendly neighborhoods, diners, factories, truck stops, churches, ice cream spots, small businesses, and farms all across our land.
Thanks to Ivan and Fran Miller for their friendship through years of restaurant management and during Mary's illness and death. Thanks also for hauling me around the Kansas landscape and picking me up in Key West, Florida.
Thank you also to my cousin Marvin Miller for joining me on my ride and for a lifetime of memories.
Thank you to Elaine Starner for again assisting me with this project. Elaine understood this was more than just a bicycle ride, and she knows the importance of the message God gave me.
A special thanks to my editor, Vicki Crumpton, and the team at Revell for their dedication to publishing this book.
Finally, thanks to you, my readers, for your support and words of encouragement. If not for your interest and purchase of my work, I would need to find an actual job.
Folks have asked what my next project will be. All sorts of interesting suggestions have been made. I will await God's leading. In the meantime, I've started work on a book of fiction tentatively entitled
The Wanderers
. It is about two . . . well, I think I'll just let you wonder.
Hiking Through: One Man's Journey to Peace and Freedom
