Tales From the Summer Book Tour--Crossing Pennsylvania

By David Hobbs

From my folk’s home in Eastern Ohio I had to travel to Eastern Pennsylvania to the town of Westchester to minister in Jerry Schwartz’ church, Living Faith World Outreach Centre [there’s your plug, Jerry!], 385 miles away.

Now I expect spiritual warfare leading up to times of ministry, but this was especially intense. I awoke about 4 in the morning to hear the sound of light rain falling outside our house. When I left home a few hours later, it was still raining lightly, which continued for the 60 miles to the Pennsylvania border. In Pennsyl-vania it quit raining briefly and it looked like all was going to be well. But once on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the skies opened. Soon it was pouring buckets. They were doing extensive construction on the turnpike, and had placed cement barriers on both sides of the lanes, leaving the cars and trucks a 2 lane tunnel to shoot through for miles and miles. But in spite of the downpour and the narrowed driving room, the traffic didn’t slow down a bit. We were all flying along at 65 mph through the torrential downpour with cement barriers to our right and left, and traffic in front and behind.

Once in this condition, it was like somebody turned off the clock and I was stuck in a time warp that went on and on. I was frozen in place, not daring take my eyes off the road or relax my hands’ death-grip on the steering wheel. I kept expecting to drive out in front of the storm, but either it was everywhere, or it was traveling at 65 mph too.

The heavy rain greatly reduced the visibility. The only way I could tell where the traffic was ahead of me was by the moving clouds of white mist. The bigger clouds hid trucks and the smaller ones concealed cars.

“This must have been what happened to me on that fateful drive from Redding to Yreka in my book,” I thought, “where I drove on and on through the thunderstorm that wouldn’t quit.” But there was no thunder in this storm, and I kept moving full speed, pushed by the surrounding traffic.

After 100 miles or so the construction was finally over and we had more breathing room, but the rain continued unabated until I had almost reached Westchester. Then I did just get out in front of the storm and found the church. I was sitting comfortably in Pastor Jerry’s office as the storm barreled through overhead. At the hotel that evening the Lord treated me to a beautiful sunset, He even moved on the desk clerk to upgrade my room to give me a better view of it.

Fast forward from Friday evening to Sunday afternoon. It had been a bang-up 2 days: speaking to the men on Saturday, the whole church on Sunday, powerful times in the prayer room, tours of the fire station, hours spent talking with Pastor Jerry about every possible subject. But now it was Sunday afternoon and I wanted to head for home and save the $100.00 that another night at the local hotel would cost. But after all the excitement, the drive home would be an emotional letdown. I thought if I left right away, I could almost get home before dark,which wouldn't be so bad. But sure enough Jerry asked me out for lunch one more time and I didn’t want to refuse--our times together had been so rich! We had another great time fellowshipping, which meant I wasn’t ready to leave till 4 in the afternoon. Now I wouldn’t get home till close to midnight.

By the end of the first hour on the turnpike I was falling asleep and jerking awake as I drove. Not good! The adrenaline was all gone and I couldn’t stay awake. I pulled into a service plaza for a break. If I was falling asleep now after only an hour while the sun was still shining, what would I do for the rest of the trip? Hmm. That’s a problem. I prayed and asked God for help. No immediate answer came and so I started back towards the turnpike. As I was driving down the onramp, I remembered a CD I had brought along on the tour but had never listened to. It was an instrumental rendition of old hymns like “The Old Rugged Cross.” What the heck? I put it on and started listening. Soon I was caught up and began singing along. As I sang I relived the excitement of the last few days and all the good things God had allowed me to experience. Then the anointing came. Soon I was belting out the songs at the top of my lungs with all my heart—who was there to hear and disapprove out on the open road? Tiredness was banished and the power of God filled me again. After the CD ran through all the songs it simply started over again and I was on my second hour. Afternoon turned into evening which turned into night. From time to time I stopped to use the restroom or get a bite to eat. But as soon as I was back in the car, the music started up again and I was back in the groove. By the time the third round was over, I was approaching Ohio and the glory of God had filled the car and remained for the rest of the trip.

The next morning at breakfast I was telling my mom about all that had happened at the meetings and the church. “Why do you sound so hoarse” she wondered? “Hmm. Must be from too much singing!”