People of God


The woman was wearing a sort of little bonnet, which made me think they belonged to some religious sect. Otherwise, they were dressed conservatively but normally. The man had on long pants and a shirt with a collar. In addition to her small bonnet (think Amish woman, not Ma Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie), the woman was wearing a nondescript blouse and a long, sedately floral skirt. Both of them had gray hair and were probably at least 70 years old.

The man didn’t have a bushy Amish style beard; he was clean cut, with no beard or mustache at all. Neither of them was wearing the style of clothing of the Amish or even the Old German Baptist Brethren. They were wearing colors. They were definitely not plain. But the bonnet was shouting Religion!

They had some question about the trail, which I answered to the best of my ability. I pointed them to the map of the trail posted at the front of the parking lot. I was helpful, but we didn’t have any great conversation. I felt no special connection to the couple.

When they returned from the trail, they had more questions. They actually drove their small pickup truck right to where I was standing and asked how to get to their next destination. The man showed me his atlas, which offered little detail of the area. I pulled out a tourist info guidebook (a freebie, filled with advertisements), which had a better map. I showed the man the best route to where they were headed, then offered him the guide book. He took it gratefully. Again, I’d been helpful, but felt no special connection to either of the people.

The man drove the truck back into the depths of the parking lot. (I suspect they were visiting the restrooms). After some time, the truck again approached the front of the parking lot. Before they got to the exit, the man again stopped the truck near me. bible, book, business

We’d like you to have this, the man said. He was holding a small, bright blue book with gold writing in the upper right corner. Oh no! It was a Bible—or at least a New Testament.

Is that weird? Is it weird to try to hand off the Word of God to a stranger? I guess it’s not weird to the religious people who do it. They believe they’re right, and they probably think they’re doing us heathens a favor. But being offered a Bible (or the New Testament or the Koran or the Book of Mormon or whatever) by people I’d only spoken to about maps and driving directions felt very weird to me.

I kept my cool. I smiled, shook my head and said, No thanks!

The people of God left.

After they left, I wondered if there’d been money in the little holy book. It seemed like a good trick: put money in the holy book, then laugh at the heathen when she turned it down. But that wouldn’t be a very Christian game to play. Besides, why give money to someone with a job, someone obviously tugging on her bootstraps? Maybe if they were handing the holy book to a panhandler or someone they perceived to be homeless, maybe then they’d tuck some dollars in there. But I probably hadn’t passed up anything more than holy scripture.

About Blaize Sun

My name is Blaize Sun. Maybe that's the name my family gave me; maybe it's not. In any case, that's the name I'm using here and now. I've been a rubber tramp for nearly a decade.I like to see places I've never seen before, and I like to visit the places I love again and again. For most of my years on the road, my primary residence was my van. For almost half of the time I was a van dweller, I was going it alone. Now I have a little travel trailer parked in a small RV park in a small desert town. I also have a minivan to travel in. When it gets too hot for me in my desert, I get in my minivan and move up in elevation to find cooler temperatures or I house sit in town in a place with air conditioning I was a work camper in a remote National Forest recreation area on a mountain for four seasons. I was a camp host and parking lot attendant for two seasons and wrote a book about my experiences called Confessions of a Work Camper: Tales from the Woods. During the last two seasons as a work camper on that mountain, I was a clerk in a campground store. I'm also a house and pet sitter, and I pick up odd jobs when I can. I'm primarily a writer, but I also create beautiful little collages; hand make hemp jewelry and warm, colorful winter hats; and use my creative and artistic skills to decorate my life and brighten the lives of others. My goal (for my writing and my life) is to be real. I don't like fake, and I don't want to share fake. I want to share my authentic thoughts and feelings. I want to give others space and permission to share their authentic selves. Sometimes I think the best way to support others is to leave them alone and allow them to be. I am more than just a rubber tramp artist. I'm fat. I'm funny. I'm flawed. I try to be kind. I'm often grouchy. I am awed by the stars in the dark desert night. I hope my writing moves people. If my writing makes someone laugh or cry or feel angry or happy or troubled or comforted, I have done my job. If my writing makes someone think and question and try a little harder, I've done my job. If my writing opens a door for someone, changes a life, I have done my job well. I hope you enjoy my blog posts, my word and pictures, the work I've done to express myself in a way others will understand. I hope you appreciate the time and energy I put into each post. I hope you will click the like button each time you like what you have read. I hope you will share posts with the people in your life. I hope you'll leave a comment and share your authentic self with me and this blog's other readers. Thank you for reading.  A writer without readers is very sad indeed.

3 Responses »

  1. “But that wouldn’t be a very Christian game to play.”

    Christians play a lot of games. So do the other religions. I have wondered for decades why religious people always want to force their religion on other people. And I’ve never found the answer.

    A man once said something like: Religion is for people who don’t want to answer the hard questions.

    I know what the questions are, and I know what the answers are. I may not like them, but I know what they are.

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