With faith

As my triathlon training winds down and the race approaches, I think back to the many miles on the road while preparing. One day in particular crossed my mind recently. It was about 4 weeks ago, while stopping to refuel for my last 15 miles of a long hot bike ride, I stopped in Collinsville at a gas station, whereby I've stopped many times in my life. It's a gas station that is familiar to me, always has what I'm looking for, and most importantly, never seems to be busy. I've been stopping there since I lived in Plano, a number of years ago, while biking back and forth to Lake Texoma. We have a little place there at Lake Texoma, where David may golf, or maybe we go kayak in the cove, or jump in the pool. And as usual, always have an angus burger at the Club House. After all, it’s just off Hwy 377 which is one of my favorite biking routes. And this particular day I was using Hwy 377 as part of my route (although not going to Lake Texoma that day).
Heading out Hwy 377 on my bike is easy to get to, wonderful for high-mileage rides, and grants cyclists a plentiful shoulder,  and cars that tolerate bikes well. And off of 377 in Collinsville, is a gas station that provides me a refill on my water, and a Cliff bar - and sometimes fresh bananas. I normally place my bike in front of the store, leaning it up against a wooden bench, in front of the glass windows looking into the store. I go inside, say Hello, and grab what I'm needing. The lady tells me it's too hot to be biking. The man doing the inventory (he always has a clipboard in his hands) says Hello. I think it's a family thing, there. I always say, "I'm almost home", and she tells me to Be Careful! It's a dance we do, and it's always a comfortable and friendly exchange. On this particular visit, I notice a older gentleman looking at my bike out front of the store. He's just standing there looking down at it, inspecting every inch of it. I don't think much of it, and continue my transaction and make my way outside. He's still standing there, in the same position with the same expression on his face, soaking in something about my bike. I walk out and say Hello. Granted, there's only so many cars parked in front of the gas station. After all, it’s never really busy there. That day in particular, I only remember one car parked in front of the store: a older, weather-worn car, parked in the handicap space directly in front of my bike, in front of the store. That's the only car I remember seeing, and I assume it's this gentleman's. I thought he had stopped there, while making his way to his car just in front of my bike. Looking back, it did not all 'match up", as he's dressed in a pressed button-down western shirt, fancy leather suspenders, pressed western jeans with the crease ironed down the front. His teeth were perfectly pearly white and straight, and his white hair exactly in place. I assumed he must have stopped on his way home, and gotten something at the store? But there was nothing in his hands. But as I made my way to my bike, there he stood, to look at this bike randomly placed by a bench, in front of this gas station store that never seems busy.
This gentleman doesn’t move, but continues to stand in front of my bike staring, almost like he was in a trance. My “Hello” hardly causes him to budge. Still staring. I look at him, but he does not look at me. He's about 5'10" with a trim frame., as I inspect him as he inspects my bike. Maybe he bikes, I wonder? I can't figure out what he's thinking. I keep expecting him to turn and make his way into the weather-worn car, but it's like he's frozen in time. Finally, he speaks. "Where are you heading to?' he says. I tell him I'm almost back home to Gunter. As he speaks, he's staring at my bike. He asks me how I'll get back home, and I tell him I'll go just down 377 and turn in Tioga to head towards Gunter on FM 121. He nods. Another awkward silence. Then, as if someone just woke him up, he says he lives in Gunter, too. And, he wants to know why he hasn't seen me there, after all, he's lived there all his life. My guess would be about 72 years. I can't answer his question, and I don't think he believes me that I live in Gunter, so feel compelled to tell him approximately where I live and he nods. Approval granted. He does ask me my name, and he tells me his name is Charles.
I can't figure out why he has stopped at this gas station, and why he's in Collinsville. But I didn't ask either. I start preparing myself to move my bike, and get back on it and ride. He notices my ear phones and asks what I'm listening to. I explain that my primary choice is audio books. He's surprised. But fires right back with a question, "Christian Books?' Well, yes, some. (Actually I only had one Christian book in my audio library at that time) It just so happens I was listening to Present Over Perfect. He even asks me which Christian books, which authors? Okay. I got to go. Maybe he's a Pastor? Maybe he just went to church? All I know is I just want to finish up my ride. It's hotter than heck outside, and the sun is a ball of fire. I politely tell him maybe I'll see him around Gunter, and he finally takes a step back. I was never really uncomfortable in his presence. He was just in no hurry, and hypnotized by the bike. It's nothing fancy, mind you. Maybe he was curious.
I don't think too much more about it. Matter of fact, I forget about the exchange, because I'm tired, hot and ready to be home. And there I am, biking down FM 121, about 5 miles from my house. The road is quiet, as it's a Sunday and there's not much traffic on it. As I'm riding, I feel a car pull up beside me and slow down to my speed. I look to my left and guess who it is?! Smiling his big smile of shiny white teeth at me, is Charles. But he's not in that beater car. He's in a fancy Corvette, all clean and shiny like him. He even has driving gloves on. I swear I did not see that car at the gas station. He drives along side me, rolls down his window, and only for a moment he says Hello! I'm so surprised, that I'm speechless, and not sure how to have a conversation like this. But before I can make any decision on what to say, he's saying Bye and drives away as fast as he had pulled up beside me. And then he was gone. Fast fast. Gone.
What just happened? I'm still not able to put all those pieces of the puzzle together for that encounter. I meet a lot of people while out biking and running, but that was unusual. Nothing about it all made sense to me, because there was not order to it all. Looking back, maybe I was the one in a trance?
What's most interesting about it all was the outcome of this encounter. Not only did I finish the book Present Over Perfect, by Shauna Niequist, but I went on to listen to How's Your Soul, by Judah Smith and another book, Everybody Always, by Bob Goff. All Christian books - all themed similarly. How's Your Soul focuses on not asking other's 'How Are You?', but instead, 'How's Your Soul?' Shauna Niequist states in her book: What kills a soul? Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management. And what brings a soul back from the dead? Honesty, connection, and grace. Everybody Always is a bit more challenging of a book, as it calls us to love the "creepy people" who are hard to love, as God did. It's almost like Charles was placed in my path that fateful day, to shed light on the topic of Christian books. Granted, I listen primarily to non-fiction. Yet, after the "meeting of Charles", I was blessed with the gift of enlightenment to a genre I had not fully explored. I've dabbled in faith books, but now, I was drawn to them. I've listened to How's Your Soul twice, and plan on a third listen, too.
I'm still amazed at these types of "meetings" with random people in this world.
You know, I've never seen Charles again. And Gunter is a small town - I would recognize his car. I think Charles was dropped down into that gas station to tell me something. And he did. Lucky for me, I was able to hear his message, and appreciate that one sentence: "Do you listen to Christian books?"
Time and time again I have events whereby I meet people who I find fascinating, and then never see them again. That time in Collinsville was a God event. I'm convinced. And the drive-by in the Corvette? Maybe that was a message. Sometimes it takes time and thought to figure out God's messages.

With faith,
Cyndi