Lessons On A Country Road

Just when you think you are on time, something inevitably delays you.
Even when you give your self enough time, there are always unforeseen circumstances.
When that happens you have to be flexible.
When that happens you have to adjust.

It was on a country road in Amish country that just such a thing happened.
I was headed to a Mennonite thrift store to donate some clothes and other items.
It was a gorgeous day though a little too warm for October.
The Amish farmers were harvesting; pumpkins and gourds lined the roadside stands.

I was thinking about all the things I had to do.
I was thinking about the most efficient route I would take to get everything done.
It was then that I saw traffic up ahead.
Traffic is not a word you would ever associate with this road.

I slowed down and joined the line of cars.
An SUV pulling a horse trailer was in front of me.
I couldn’t see around it to determine what the problem was up ahead.
I saw people ahead of us turn around in driveways and country lanes.

The place I needed to go was literally less than two miles up the road.
I knew that I was not going to get there in the direction I was going.
The woman driving the SUV motioned to me that she was turning around.
Somehow, after multiple attempts, she turned her horse trailer and drove off.

As I sat there waiting for her to complete her turn, I saw numerous scooters.
Young Amish boys were speeding past the line of waiting cars using one foot to propel them.
They were able to get through where our cars could not.
I could see up ahead that many Amish people were on the scene, helping.

I turned around and drove back the way I came.
Even with my phone’s GPS, I knew I needed assistance.
I needed to make a large enough square to go around the accident that was ahead of me.
I saw a man in the front of a small shop and I asked him for directions.

He told me that someone had pulled out in front of a pickup truck.
The truck did not have time to fully brake and crashed into a tree on someone’s lawn.
No one was hurt, praise God.
However, a telephone poll was sheared and live wires were lying on the ground.

I thanked him and drove off.
The square he suggested I make got me to a street that was just above the accident.
There was the truck, there was the tree, and there were the live wires.
Yellow caution tape was placed around the treacherous area.

They had closed the road and a fireman was directing any traffic that was approaching.
He waved for me to turn left, which was the way I wanted to go.
One block later, I was where I needed to be.
Behind me, emergency personnel were problem solving.

In their midst were the Amish men who were assisting in any way they possibly could.
The people that tourists think are so quaint were actually quite impressive in their response.
They may not have been driving cars but their willingness and ability to help was amazing.
They keep to themselves but have a strong sense of community; they were there helping.

I dropped off the clothes at the thrift store and drove on.
There was a barn raising a few miles away.
There were so many Amish men on top of the roof frames.
I saw their black pants, and suspenders, and straw hats as they worked.

What takes a construction company weeks to complete, these men were doing in an afternoon.
No red tape, no government interference; just neighbor helping neighbor.
I imagined the wives of all the Amish men in the kitchen making a hot meal for the men.
I imagined the children all playing while their parents worked together.

It did seem like a walk back into time on some levels.
However, on other levels, they are more advance than we are.
They accomplish together what we are still brainstorming on a drafting table.
They work together knowing that this same group may be helping them in the future.

It is community at it finest.
It is a sense of togetherness.
It is being different from each other but sharing the same humanity.
It is doing everything for the Lord and that is enough.

I stopped in a small shoe repair shop tucked away on a country lane.
The shop was neat and clean with quite an impressive inventory of shoes and leather goods.
I saw a sign that asked for understanding while they take time with customers.
A man was ahead of me, trying to buy a new leather wallet.

The young Amish man behind the counter was courteous and helpful.
He took time to find just the right leather wallet in a catalog to match the man’s existing wallet.
There was no rush.
I knew that when I stepped up to the counter, that same expertise would be given to me as well.

I didn’t walk back in time as much as I walked into time as it should be.
The sense of community was palpable.
The idea that people come first was obvious.
The bottom line was secondary.

It was refreshing.
It was a model that I long to find elsewhere.
Differences were put aside.
Only the need of another was considered.

Refresh my heart in Christ. (Philemon 1:20)

Refreshment is sorely needed in our culture.
A sense of community is desperately lacking.
A willingness to help is overshadowed by our schedules.
We are a people that never seem to have enough time.

It took an accident, a barn raising and a shoe repair shop to illustrate that truth for me.
The people without modern conveniences were the first to respond.
What we with our modern conveniences talk about, they actually do.
While we are racing around like a chicken without a head, they are out strolling.

There are lessons to be learned here.
There is an example to follow.
Modernity was left in the dust.
The cars on that back country road are probably still waiting as the roof went on the barn.